#damn right you'll never be a memory....

[ashinaisshin]

– 思い出の中で、じっとしていてくれ。 – 私は、思い出にはならないさ。

[into-the-milgramverse]

Fuuta crash out when

(don't mind the tags, i'm talking to fuuta)

[roosterforme]

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

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You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

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

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

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

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

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

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

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

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[animasola86]

🐺 A FILLING EXPERIENCE

knotting!dildo x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 9.8k

You were a little drunk and very horny when you browsed the website looking for a new sex toy. When your order arrives, however, you feel like you did something very wrong. Or did you? Maybe it'll grow on you? (Not sure that's a good thing, though.) Prepare for a wild ride.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Sex toys! Possessed sex toys. Masturbation. Knotting. Referenced werewolves. Referenced A/B/O dynamics. Possession. Vaginal sex. Breeding. Memory loss. (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: The prompt was "knotting, masturbation, sex toys". The pairing is what it is. For a reference picture of the star of the show (aka the dildo) check it on AO3! (Also, very surprisingly, but this is not an ad for Bad Dragon, I swear.)

You spend a whole minute staring at the item you just pulled out of the unassuming box. The sheer size of it both makes your head spin and mouth very, very dry (at the same time, you feel a growing wetness somewhere much lower). Wow. Just wow. What is that thing? You're absolutely sure you ordered it in a different size, the smallest to be exact, so this can't be right.

Licking your lips, you blink, focusing back on the packaging. There isn't anything on the box, but you find a little sheet of paper next to the satin bag it came with. The dimensions listed make you frown. Putting the hefty item back on your desk, you fumble for the ruler you keep in one of the drawers. Then you start measuring the damn thing.

It's almost nine inches long, if you dismiss the large base that holds it steady to any surface. The head is the smallest part, two inches wide and tapered, the shaft flares out then, you measure two and a half inches in width, sloping into a soft curve lined with ridges and little nubs, before the main attraction protrudes in a rather menacing way: the knot, two bulbous bumps, and they even added thick veins to the design. Your hand is shaking when you put the ruler next to it. Three point five six inches wide.

That's a lot. Way too much. This will never fit inside you. Ever.

And still you are intrigued. Of course you are, you ordered that dildo for a reason, even if it came in the wrong size. (You could return it, you know that, but it's been a thrill to order it in the first place, so sending it back seems like too much of a hassle.) But just seeing it now, sitting heavy on your desk, with your small hand resting beside it, with its intricate and strangely realistic textures, it looks too intimidating.

You've read these werewolf stories where some fair maiden stumbles through the forest and ends up getting relentlessly knotted by the monster (or the more modern versions of some alpha male knotting his omega mate to help them through their heat, which always fascinated you a little more because it seemed not as fantastical). The idea to have something big inside you, filling you, stretching you out, and then something even bigger holding you in place, making it impossible to move, gives you chills, in the good way.

You may have been a little drunk and very horny when you ordered this fantasy dildo, but seeing it now, in the “flesh”, makes you very anxious. This was a stupid purchase. It won't be the same anyway. It's just the disembodied dick of a creature that doesn't exist in the first place. You'll be stuffed, sure, but you'll miss the warmth and the strength of whoever this would be attached to.

You sigh. Well, nothing you can do about it. You neither have a boyfriend to test this out with nor do you possess any magical abilities to make that fantasy come true, and as of right now, you don't see yourself using the damn thing anyway. It's too large (your other dildos look downright puny in comparison), and you are too small.

Despite it all, it is mesmerizing you. You chose a deep midnight blue as the color, that blends from a lighter blue at the tip into an almost black at the base, which makes it look slightly slimmer than it is. Slowly you move your hand up and close it around the curved shaft, well, you try, your fingers are too short to reach all the way around. You still slide your palm along the ridges and bumps, feeling the firm smooth silicone. It gives way in some places, you can bend it just a little bit, but when your hand reaches the knot, those bulbs feel almost a little too rigid.

You squeeze them, watching your knuckles blanching, knowing you will never have the same grip with your pussy. Warmth rushes into your cheeks at the thought. Biting your lip, you keep stroking the strange toy, getting a feel for it, trying to imagine how it would fit inside you. With how hefty the base is, you would have to put it on the ground and lower yourself onto it, which sounds like a workout you're not so sure you'd like.

But maybe the base comes off and you can use it like a regular dildo, snuggled into bed, hidden under your blanket? You lift the thing up and try to twist the base, but nothing happens. Hmm. At least it's sturdy. You find a little hole at the bottom, and you remember you ordered it with a... what did they call it, cumtube? Sounds weird, but it's just a long tube you can fill with cum-like lube that shoots out at some point? You're not too clear on the workings of that. But the idea to be filled by something warm and sticky makes your stomach tense up in anticipation.

Shifting on your chair, you inhale sharply and pull your hand away from the dark blue item. Well, this is not going to happen, not now. Maybe never. The idea is nice, but you don't see it being too pleasurable in reality. So you pack it up into its unassuming black satin bag along with the bottle of lube and the long tube it came with, and store it in the lowest drawer of your desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

Or so you hope.

When you go to bed that night, you see the large dildo in your mind's eye, and you recall these smutty stories, you imagine the grunts of the werewolf as he fucks the poor woman beneath him, rutting into her like the feral creature he is. And how she screams when he bottoms out, pressing all those inches into her, forcing his knot to stretch her entrance, how her pussy lips grip around it and pull it further inside. You have your hand between your legs as you try to imagine what it must feel like to be this full, to be bred and filled, with nowhere to go, stuck on those bulging bulbs.

A moan escapes you as your body shudders. You could try it. You have the hardware. It's right there. You just have to get up and get it... But you're too cozy in bed, under your warm blanket, with your fingers rubbing hard circles around your clit. You end up coming to the idea of it, and that's enough for you. Content with your heart racing, you exhale loudly, wiping your wet fingers on your thigh before you snuggle into the bedding and close your eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep.

Maybe not as dreamless as you've hoped. You wake up the next morning with a dry throat and sticky thighs, your mind swimming with images of cocks plunging into squelching holes, of being held down and ravaged, and you shudder at the memory. Blinking your eyes into focus, you sit up – and freeze.

There, on top of your desk, sits the large dark blue dildo, shining in the sunlight filtering through your window. No way. You've put it into the drawer, into its bag, far away, and even though you thought about using it last night, you didn't. And even if, you wouldn't put it back on the desk like that, right? But it's there, almost mocking you. Slowly you stand up and walk towards your desk, reaching out a hand to touch the smooth surface.

It's sticky, almost warm to the touch. What the hell? But you haven't used it, you're sure, you'd certainly remember it, wouldn't you? Shaking your head, you dismiss it for the moment and start your morning routine as if nothing happened.

Before you leave for the day, you grab the dildo and the toy cleaner you keep in your bedside table and give it a good scrub. Then you hide it away again, shutting the drawer with a firm thud. You are tempted to put a lock on it, but that's just silly.

Later that evening, you sit in bed and scroll through the stories on your phone, mindlessly skimming through your preferred genres. Somehow you end up on another knotting story. What are the odds. This one is set in the omegaverse, depicting an alpha bodyguard taking care of the omega girl in his care... by knotting her senseless. Just your kind of story. You end up with your fingers in your cunt, rubbing and poking desperately as you read.

You're close, your thighs twitching with every brush against your sensitive clit, stomach tense, feet curling into the sheets as you pump your hips. Your breaths are frantic, heart thundering inside your chest. Soundless, strangled gasps escape you (you're always mindful of your noises, these walls are thin and you don't want to alarm or entertain your neighbors) and you squirm and writhe, your phone falling out of your hand when you have to clutch at the edge of the bed.

“Fuck,” you croak out quietly while you roll onto your side and press your thighs together, trapping your hand, fingers stilling inside your clenching pussy as your body convulses under the mind-numbing throes of your orgasm.

You lie there for a moment, taking deep gulps of air into your burning lungs, slowly calming down again. Through the dark room you look towards your desk. And you can see it, your new toy, hidden away, waiting, and before you know it, you stumble off the bed and rip the drawer open and the large dildo out of its bag. You don't even care about the lube at this point.

With your back pressed into the bed, you rub the tapered tip between your wet folds, gathering your slick. You need both hands to guide the big thing back and forth, it's quite heavy. With your heart racing and your stomach fluttering, you angle your hips, feet pressed into the bed, and then you push. The head parts your lips and sinks into your entrance, and it's already a stretch that makes you inhale sharply.

But you keep going, your arms shaking under the exertion of forcing the toy deeper. You feel its protruding ridges and nubs rubbing against your soft walls as you start moving it in and out slowly. There's still so much of it in your hands, but the curve of the thing already presses between your tight muscles. You turn it slightly, figuring out which way feels best, and in doing so drill it even further.

You stop before your pussy lips brush against the bulbous knot, and you hold it tightly when you let the thing just rest inside you for a moment, feeling its girth and length and weight, its textures and shape. Clenching around the toy, you try to relax on the bed, grinding your hips slowly against your hands. It feels amazing, those ridges and nubs seem to hit all the right spots. Little moans slip from your parted lips, mouth hanging open as you squeeze your eyes shut.

The base is heavy between your fingers, and you feel them cramping slightly as you continue to move the large dildo in and out, considering using it like it's intended to be used: standing upright on the ground as you impale yourself on it. But it's a daunting thought, and your legs are already shaking badly. You doubt you have enough strength left to do squats on it now.

So you keep pumping half of it into your tight cunt, both hands closed around the hefty base, hips meeting your thrusts, the wet squelching sounds echoing through your room, adding to the growing arousal inside you. Your wrists hurt under the strain, but you're desperate now, hectic whines escaping you as you double your efforts, pushing and pulling, ramming that damn thing into you as fast as you can.

Arching your back and lifting your hips off the bed, you lean into the impending release, so close, a few more nudges, come on – when a sudden cold breeze over your sweaty face alerts you to something you cannot stop. It's as if an unseen force pushes the dildo with you, stronger than your own hands, an assist you didn't ask for.

But you're too far gone, gasping with your mouth wide open, head pressed into your pillow, thighs twitching, the tension ready to explode, and then it does, and at the same time as your orgasm crashes over you, a strange jerk goes through your body, and your usually voiceless cry becomes a real one, an almost scream as you feel your clenching cunt being stretched. Your hands fall away from the toy in an attempt to let it pop out and relish in the empty feeling as your contractions shake your body, but there's no empty feeling, because you're not empty.

You're stuffed. Somehow the knot has made it into your tight channel and your pussy lips grip the shaft beneath it, and as much as you push and clench, it doesn't budge. Cold panic rips you from your post-orgasmic bliss. Your hands claw at the base sticking out of you as you gyrate your hips, feeling every ridge and nub and bump pressing hard into your fluttering walls, but the toy is lodged within you. How did that happen?

Breathing harder, both from the exertion and the anxiety of having a sex toy stuck in your cunt, you wail quietly, rolling onto your side, lifting your leg, pulling on the damn thing. No chance. It's in there now. Knot and all, and the more you squirm, the more you feel the tapered tip pressing into depths nothing has ever pressed into before. It's a strange pain, sharp and piercing, a jolt of electricity with every movement of your body.

You lie on your back now, legs still angled, thighs twitching, trying to calm yourself down. You need to relax your muscles to get it out, you know that, but it's hard, as hard as the toy inside you. And somehow you feel it... expanding? No, that must be your imagination. It's not one of those inflatable things, you made sure of that. But the stretch is there, and it hurts.

Your hands are back between your legs, gripping the hefty base, but in your attempt to rip it out somehow, you suddenly feel it loosening and with another surprised/pained gasp, you realize you're holding the base of the toy – but without the toy.

��No!” you wail louder, staring at the dark piece of silicone between your fingers. It came right off, not as sturdy as initially suspected after all. You throw it aside and finger at the now-base of the fake shaft. It's barely sticking out now, your cunt eager to swallow it whole it seems. Whining in panic, you try to hook a finger between your tightly stretched skin and the dildo, but there's no way you can grip it like this.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as your anxiety grows. Chill. Calm down, it'll pop out on its own, they always do, don't worry, you try to soothe yourself. Not the first time you accidentally pushed a toy in too deep, but those were smooth ones, half as long and half as thick, with no ridges or knots, of course they'd slip out again. But this thing? It's a fucking knot, designed, by nature, to keep itself lodged inside any unsuspecting hole.

You think back to those stories you read about the topic. Those were fictional though, and every author handled it slightly differently. In some of them, the knot would just deflate when the man (or werewolf) was done dumping his potent load into his victim or mate, in others it stayed bulbous and inflated for a long time, locking the two people together, which, in a way, is a romantic thing and something you'd like to experience once in your life as well, but there's nobody attached to the dildo in your cunt, no one to hold you, to calm you, to rub your back and ease you through the pain of stretching and being filled.

The thought makes you sad, and in your frustration you buck your hips, only to gasp when the motion causes the toy to rub against these very sensitive spots that make your toes curl. You move your pelvis again, ripping a quiet moan from your throat, and then you fall into a slow rhythm of undulating into the bed, one hand back on your mound, feeling the tight fit of the toy before you start rubbing your swollen clit gently.

Before you know it, you work yourself to yet another orgasm, and the dildo seems to work with you. You even nudge its base a little, pushing it deeper, right against that sweet spot in the far back, and you groan at the sensation of pleasure/pain as you thrash your head into the pillow. Rolling onto your side, you keep grinding against the heavy thing inside you, panting under the exertion, your body curled up tightly, just like the coil in your tense stomach.

You're teetering on the edge, head empty except for that delicious cotton that makes you forget everything. It feels so good. The stretch, the pressure, the snug fit, those ridges and nubs and those seemingly pulsing bulbs pressing right against your g-spot. Mewls and wails fall from your trembling lips, and in your haze, you end up on your stomach where you lift your hips up and start humping your mattress feverishly.

The additional stimulation to your clit makes you cry out loudly, and you can only muffle your noises by pressing your face into the pillow. Your hard nipples rub against the fabric of your shirt with every gyrating motion with how you scrape your chest over the bed, and it doesn't take long before you stumble right over the edge, your muscles clenching hard around the toy, squeezing with all they have, as a million bright lights explode around you.

You're too far gone to think at that point, but if you would have been able to, you'd wonder why the toy doesn't come shooting out of your convulsing channel like most other toys would. It's not just the knot holding it in place, there's a strange force keeping your hips up and the dildo inside you. But you notice none of it, not the stiff position of your body as you tremble and quake, hands clawing at the sheets, knuckles white, fingers hurting, you just keep riding the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

You do, however, feel a familiar warmth gathering deep inside you, and you assume it's your own release waiting to gush past the item if it weren't for the knot plugging you up like a cork. Though it feels a little different, not something your body produced due to high stimulation, but something being added...

You groan deeply when your body makes a forward jerk as you feel the toy moving within you. Which shouldn't be possible. It's almost as if it's pulsing, throbbing, twitching, and with those motions something hot pushes into you, filling you up, seeping into every nook and cranny left by the large toy invading your already tight space. You shudder deeply, wondering in your fucked-out state what's going on, before you feel a strange stretch, a pressure building up inside you, and then, like an airlock being lifted, a strange squelching sound appears and you feel something hot and sticky trickling down your leg.

Remaining in your bent-over position, you move a hand between your legs and feel for whatever is leaking out of you. It's thick, thicker than your own juices, and much stickier. You bring it to your eyes, and whatever liquid it is, it pulls into thin strands as you part your fingers. Feels like cum. You blink at the sight and feel of it, and in your stupor, you roll onto your side, feeling more of it gathering between your legs.

When you're on your back again, you lift your hips, your sticky hand rubbing over your bare stomach, trying to ignore how tense and full it feels, down to your mound, teasing at the stretched opening. You feel the silicone against your fingertips, and it's no longer an intruder you want to get out immediately, it's become a strangely comforting feeling, despite the out of nowhere appearing cum-like substance. Maybe you filled it up before you used it? You can't remember, honestly. Does it matter? Not really.

You enjoy the feeling of fullness, the stretch and pressure, how with every slight movement the toy's ridges dig into your soft walls. The curve of it fits perfectly inside you, and the bulbous knot makes it sit so snug, as if it was made specifically for your cunt. You almost laugh at your initial apprehension and how you thought that huge thing would never fit into your tiny body, but look at you now, stuffed and happy.

With one hand on your mound, now eager to keep the toy in, as you rub your swollen labia gently, you roll onto your side and snuggle into your bed, your other hand pulling the sheets over your sweat-slick, sticky body. You don't care about washing up, you just want to sleep, softly riding out the blissful tremors of what this amazing toy has made you feel.

Closing your eyes, you imagine lying next to your alpha mate, or even a fluffy werewolf, as he holds you tightly pressed to his warm body, cock stuck inside your clenching cunt, knotting you to your (and his) heart's content.

But despite feeling exhausted, you can't stop grinding your hips against your hand, breathing harder when the warmth and tension builds up all over again as the dildo presses into all the right places. Soft moans slip from your dry lips, a shudder crashing through you at the feel of the tight knot stretching your sensitive skin. That last orgasm before you actually fall asleep is a mild one, a soothing thing washing over you, a warm embrace from something that isn't there.

You wake up with a sigh, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to start the new day. There is a strange soreness between your legs, as well as a very sticky sensation on your skin, but you don't care much for it – before you sit up and yelp when a sudden pain crashes through you. You stand up so fast your head is spinning, and as you press a hand to your mound, you can feel that the dildo is still lodged snugly inside you.

Yet you don't even have time to panic as the room grows dark all of a sudden. Then it all happens very fast. Somehow you are being turned and bent over the foot of the bed, chest pressed into the mattress by a force you can't explain. Your hands grip for the sheets as you struggle against whatever is holding you down. Are you still dreaming? You can't be sure. It feels too real.

And the pain when something pulls at the dildo in your cunt, when the knot stretches your pussy lips as it forces its way past them, is very, very real and makes you wail into the bedding. After the first stretch, the rest of the toy slips out easily, and with it comes a flood of something warm and sticky, spraying against your inner thighs, dripping down your legs, pooling around your bare feet on the floor. You gasp at the sudden emptiness.

All that wasted seed, you think as if someone has planted the thought into your head. Better put in a new load. Before you can properly wonder about where those words came from, you feel something nudging against your stretched entrance. You stand on shaking legs, ass in the air, torso pushed down into the bed, and you struggle, or try to, but you can't move. It's as if you're frozen in time and place, held down by an invisible force.

It's too dark to see anything, not that you could anyway with how your face is buried in the sheets. All you can do is take it, and even that you're not sure you can. It feels like something is standing behind you, something cold that lets goosebumps ripple over your exposed skin, and at the same time there's something very hot sinking into your fluttering cunt. You know it's the silicone toy warmed by your own body, but it feels different somehow. It feels... real.

You grunt with every sharp stab it gives you, parting your folds, plunging deep, but not as deep, teasing you with those ridges and nubs that scrape over your gummy walls, and the swell of that knot nudges against your entrance, never breaching it. Not yet anyway. The pace is brutal, a feral rutting, pistoning in and out fast and hard, and you can barely contain your noises anymore. They're muffled but still loud in your ears. Maybe because they're the only thing you hear, aside from the wet squelching of your cunt.

Whatever is pushing that dildo into you, whatever took over for you, doesn't make a sound, but you can feel it, you know it's there, holding you down and restrained. Whatever it is.

As sure as you are about the invisible force fucking you on your own bed, you are about the impending orgasm creeping closer with every hard thrust. The constant in and out of the rigid toy makes your head spin, your stomach tense, your thighs tremble. You're moaning and mewling, desperate for release as the warmth gathers in your core, ready to burst free. You even manage to press your hips back and meet the motions of the toy pounding into you.

And then you come, wailing loudly, barely restrained, lights exploding behind your eyelids as your body shudders and convulses, and you feel something wet splattering on the wooden floor, adding to the mess pooling around your feet. You've never squirted before, but you just know that's what happened, if you could analyze the moment, which you can't because your head is deliciously empty as you let bliss take over your thinking apparatus.

You barely register how the toy keeps plunging into your wet cunt, those squelching noises obscene if you would care about them, and as you still float on that amazing high, you feel its thrusts getting slower, slightly deeper, more deliberate, those bulging bulbs nudging firmer against your pussy lips, and suddenly the pressure grows stronger, making you gasp and your legs shake badly, and you fight it, stiffen, muscles tensing up, making it all the worse, but whatever controls the large dildo doesn't care as it pushes it further into your protesting cunt.

You let out a deep groan when it finally breaches the tight squeeze, stretching your sensitive skin, slipping into you, and that motion, the getting swallowed by your own body, turns your wails of distress into cries of pure pleasure as you come again around the invading object, your walls fluttering around the knot. You almost lose your footing, but the force that's penetrating you is still holding you up, no matter how badly your body spasms against the bed.

The dildo is back inside of you, all of it, from the tapered tip that teases at your cervix to the swollen protrusions to the bit of shaft after that. Your cunt clenches around all of it, holding it in place, hugging it to its contracting walls, letting it rub against all those special spots. And you keep shaking, so sensitive by now the slightest motion causes you to gasp and shudder. You'd be content like this, having it inside you, just resting, as heavy and large as it is, but whatever decided to take over, doesn't see it that way.

While you couldn't possibly push the thing deeper the last time it was wedged into you, you now feel it moving, nudging further, the hard tip pressing into your depths, stretching you in a way you've never been stretched before. It hurts, but it also feels good. And it's good that you think so, as you don't have a choice in the matter anyway.

The toy is pushed and pulled in slow fluid motions, and you feel the knot pressing hard against your entrance, stretching but never leaving your cunt. That doesn't stop the force behind you, though. The shallow thrusts continue until they turn into a desperate rutting, quick short stabs that make you howl as they bully both your deepest spot and the tight muscles of your hole. It's painful in the best way possible, and you feel your legs trembling, your stomach tensing, that warmth filling you up before it all explodes, catapulting you over the edge all over again.

You scream as you come, luckily muffled by how your face is still pressed into the bedding, but the sensation isn't any less extreme. Your orgasm crashes over you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced, not that you have seen any of those before, but it sure feels like it hits you straight in the chest and drags you along, throwing you around, unrelenting, merciless, as you're being pushed and pulled and gasping for air.

Your walls clench hard around the still pistoning intruder, the curve, the ridges, the nubs, that fucking knot, all playing vital roles in keeping you afloat (or drowning), prolonging the gloriously mind-blowing experience. You feel dizzy, your heart thundering in your chest, lungs burning, body arching and spasming, as you are being hurdled from one orgasm to the next, or so it feels, and it never ends, not even when the toy suddenly stills, pushed as deep as possible, and then it throbs.

Even though you're barely able to feel anything anymore, you can feel its vibrations, the thrum from deep within it, and it shouldn't do that, it's not a vibrating toy, you tell yourself, it's also not an inflating one, but it still seems to swell, or the knot is, and it's pulsing against your tense muscles, stretching them, working inside you, and then... it unloads.

The warmth it fills you with is scorching, so filling you feel it bulging your stomach, which shouldn't be possible, and you may even taste it on your tongue as you gulp for air. It's all around you, but mostly inside you, and there it stays because the knot keeps it from spilling out. You are plugged shut, and it keeps pumping, giving you more, and it feels both oddly comforting and terrifyingly too much. You feel like bursting, so full, way too full, but all you can do is groan quietly.

With your mind still reeling, you are suddenly moved, lifted up by invisible hands (or paws?), cradled against something strangely warm as you're being put onto your side on the bed, your stomach fluttering and bulging, tensing badly under the onslaught of whatever liquid is pumped into your depths. The knotting dildo remains deep inside you, stuck and locked in, and you become drowsy, exhausted from whatever just happened. The darkness is still all around you, but you feel warm and content and taken good care of.

A smile grazes your dry lips as you imagine lying in the embrace of a mate, a lover, holding you after the strenuous ordeal of being knotted and bred, as their cock keeps pumping cum into you, as you remain tied together. And it feels so real...

Your eyes flutter close, and you inhale deeply, shifting slightly with your precious cargo inside you. As you drift into unconsciousness, the room grows brighter again, letting in the warm sunlight of a day already reaching its halfway point. Of course, you notice none of that, gone as you are.

When you stir awake, the darkness is back, this one real, lying like a heavy blanket all around you, while you lie on your side, shivering because you seemed to have kicked off your own blanket. Once you come to fully, you feel a little strange. Your mind is fuzzy, laden with images that couldn't have happened. Did you dream all that? Surely. It would be too weird if not.

But then why do you feel full when at the same time you are blatantly empty? Rolling onto your back, you grind your hips, assessing if you were indeed knotted and bred, but there's nothing. Your stomach rumbles, and when you touch it, it's normal, not bulged and tense but soft, and that's probably where the emptiness comes from. You're hungry, but that hunger also feels like an air pocket inside you, too big to ignore, giving you the feeling of being full? It's a strange sensation, to say the least.

And then there's another kind of emptiness. The one sitting invisibly in your aching little cunt disguised as nothingness. The toy is gone. You recall vividly how deep it's been in you, how stuck and immobile and heavy it sat between your clenching walls, but now they are fluttering around nothing. Where did it go?

You sit up, rubbing your naked arms, realizing you are indeed completely naked. Strange, didn't you go to bed with your sleep shirt? And why is it dark? It's been morning before, what happened to the rest of the day? You lean over to the lamp on your bedside table and the dark room is suddenly bathed in a warm yellow light, causing your eyes to wander straight towards your desk.

And there it is, sitting on its hefty base, the dark blue knotting dildo, in all its glory, with its curve, those ridges and nubs, and the formidable two bulbs making up the knot of the thing. You blink at the sight, confusion washing over you like a cold shiver. Slowly you stand up, groaning as you do, feeling your limbs shaking. Why are you so weak? Rubbing your stomach, you take a few steps before you almost slip on the floor.

Something wet coats the soles of your feet, and when you look down there's a big puddle of something shiny all over the wooden boards. Some of it is clear, but there's also a white shimmer to it, and you feel your heart accelerating as you remember how that came to be (even if the memory is faint, but seeing the evidence makes it all the more real and that frighteningly so). The feeling of being filled to the brim and leaking with the rest of it, the sensation of coming so hard you squirted all over the floor, while a strange force pounded your new toy into your willing body. Has it really happened? Apparently. But how is that possible?

Your heart beats faster as you keep walking until you reach the large dildo, standing proud and tall and girthy. You reach out with a shaking hand, carefully sliding your fingers over the textured shaft, tracing the thick veins on it. It feels warm and sticky, and it makes your blood run cold. It feels real, and it shouldn't. You know that. You're not crazy.

But there are too many things you just can't explain. How did it get back on the desk, back on the base you seemingly broke off last time? How was it possible that the toy fucked you on its own, in that bent-over position, and why weren't you able to move as it happened?

You feel chills all over your naked body. In that moment your rational mind just gives up. Normally you don't believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but how else could you explain any of this? Is the toy haunted? Possessed?

It's a silicone thing, man-made, fabricated to cater to certain people's needs, a fantasy product, but it feels real, it pumped seemingly real cum into you (or so you think, it could still have been loaded with that artificial stuff without your knowledge and by squeezing it too hard you made it come out?), it fucked you as if attached to the real deal (whatever the real deal was).

Staring at the item, you lick your lips, eyes scanning every inch of its ridged surface. As creepy as this whole situation is, you still can't deny how good it felt also. How full and happy you were, how many times you came as it rammed into you, how those little nubs felt against your tense walls. They clench just remembering it. And somehow, from the darkest corner of your mind, comes the need to put it back in, feel it again, let the knot lock you up...

A shaky sigh escapes you, and you force yourself to look away from its tantalizing appeal. No. You can't. It'll all happen again, a mind-blowing fuckfest, and you'll waste another day in bed or wherever this thing wants to fuck you, or you it, it's still unclear how that happened, and maybe it was just your extremely horny mind who made up the idea of it being controlled by somebody else, maybe it has been you all along, driven crazy by sheer lust as you rammed that knot into your own cunt.

Shaking your head to clear it, you step away and into the bathroom. You spend a long time in there, inspecting and washing and handling your sore body, and when you emerge again, wrapped in a towel with your wet hair falling over your shoulders, the toy is still sitting on your desk. You watch it, but don't approach it. Instead you leave the room and venture into the kitchen to satiate the human need of eating, and after you sat at the counter and shoveled a bowl of cereal into your achingly empty stomach, you return to your bedroom.

The sight of that thing haunts you. You feel antsy just looking at it. In the end, you pick it up and put it down on the wooden desk chair, something you feel like doing, as if something put that thought into your head, a not too unfamiliar sensation. Then you pull the chair back, drop your towel and move to sit down on it. Again, you're barely thinking about it, it's like a need, an urge, a thing that feels right.

So you squat down on the toy, feeling the tapered tip pressing between your folds, and as soon as it breaches your entrance, pushing against your sore muscles, you gasp, hands curled around the edge of the desk to ground yourself as you let gravity do the rest. Or most of it. You feel the curve sinking into your tight depths, carving a way into your gummy walls, but when the knot presses against your pussy lips, you pause, breathing harder.

It feels too big, but you know it can fit inside you, it's happened before. Inhaling deeply, you try to relax, gyrating your hips to ease it into you, but your hole's too tight, unwilling to part further. You're in that weird half-squat, hovering over the chair, arms propped on the desk in front of you, and instead of giving up, you start moving up and down, fucking yourself slowly on the curved shaft, feeling those ridges and nubs and the tip poking at those delicious spots.

You're panting from the exertion, thighs burning under the strain, but you keep going even when sweat drops down your brows. You feel as if your muscles are opening up, and before your legs give in, you slam your hips down. A shrill shriek escapes you as you feel the knot stretching you open, your sensitive skin and muscles giving way, allowing it inside before they close back around it, swallowing it and the whole thing inside of you. You moan when you feel it filling you out.

Sinking a few inches further, you feel your rear pressing against the base of the toy before you sit down fully, ass cheeks on the chair, the entirety of the dildo wedged between your tight walls. A trembling exhale escapes you as you try to relax on it, your arms shaking before you bring your hands to your lap, your chest rising and falling faster, your stomach fluttering. For a few minutes you just sit there, trying to calm your frantic breaths and your rapid heartbeat, adjusting to the filling sensation.

And then, as if you haven't just impaled yourself on a knotting dildo, you reach a hand out, turn the lamp on your desk on and pull the laptop closer that you keep at the edge of it. You've missed an entire day it seems, so you're hellbent on making up for it. As your fingers fly over the keyboard, you occasionally grind your hips into the chair, relishing in the sudden jolts of pleasure/pain as the toy nudges your insides.

You sit there and work until you've edged yourself so badly, you can barely think anymore. Leaning back in your chair with your hands flat on your desk, you inhale sharply, tilting your head back as you undulate against the toy wedged between your thighs. You're so sensitive, every single motion causes you to shiver deeply. Even the hefty base of the toy rubs delightfully against your mound, adding pressure where you didn't know you needed it. A moan escapes you, and you move your hands to your rear and pull your cheeks apart until you can grind against it better.

It feels so good. To be stuffed, to be teased like this, to feel all those little details on that firm silicone shaft. You want to congratulate whoever came up with this design. It's perfect.

In an attempt to feel more of it, you lift yourself up slightly, really wanting to ride that thing now, but of course the knot prevents you from doing so, plugging you up tightly. You can still nudge the curved dildo a little deeper, so you end up humping your chair with small shallow snaps of your hips, your thighs trembling after only a few minutes, your panting breaths loud in the quiet room.

With a little whine you stand up properly, but instead of forcing the toy out from between your clenching walls, you lift up the entire thing, base and all, as it's firmly stuck inside of you. Its weight is heavy between your legs, but you still manage to stumble towards the bed with it where you throw yourself onto your back, spread your legs, lift your hips and start pushing your hands against the base, working yourself up even more.

Once your wrists cramp up under the strain, you focus on stimulating your clit, and the first touch has you already writhing on the bed. Gasping quietly, you buck your hips against your own fingers as you keep rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves until your thighs spasm wildly. You feel the tension building, the warmth gathering inside you, and then you come with a soundless half-scream, mouth wide open, legs clamping shut around your hands as you ride out the waves of pleasure, the toy practically vibrating inside you with how your walls are fluttering around it.

Your limbs go limp then, hands falling away, legs falling open, as you try to catch your breath. Eyes closed, a stupid smile on your lips, you lie there like a stranded beetle, stomach convulsing, chest heaving. You don't notice how the darkness creeps back in, dimming out the warm light of the desk and bedside table lamp. You don't feel the cold wafting in the air around you, but you do feel the dildo moving, tiny movements, little nudges against your tight muscles until it pops out with an obscenely wet squelching sound, coaxing a deep sigh out of you.

You feel utterly relieved and satisfied and content, ready to fall asleep like that, with your legs wide open, presented on the bed like a strange little offering, and whatever lurks in the shadows around you, seems to take the bait.

It feels like your bed is moving, the mattress denting on either side of your hips, and then you're being lifted a little, and it's cold and warm at the same time as your legs are pushed up and against your chest, and as if you want this to happen, your hands move to grab your thighs, holding your legs like this. In this position you are wide open, a cool breeze on your swollen clit, your cunt clenching around nothing – but not for long.

The tapered tip pushes between your folds, eagerly sinking into your slightly stretched hole, scraping along your soft walls. The curved shaft follows, digging into you, its nubs and ridges rubbing against those sensitive spots that make you mewl softly. You are in a trance, held by lust even as exhaustion wants to pull you under. You don't question anything at this point, you just savor the sensations.

And you feel everything. The shaft moves then, in and out, shallow little stabs, carving its way deeper until you feel the bulbous knot pressing against your entrance. But it doesn't go in yet, it keeps slamming against your puffy lips, the wet squelching sounds a telltale sign of how aroused you still are. There's a strange weight to the thrusts, as if there would be more than just the toy being pushed into you, it feels as if it was attached to something much bigger, a presence you can't see (not even if you would open your eyes), but can sense in a way that feeds your longing.

The pounding continues, and that warmth builds up again, all around the thick shaft that moves between your tight walls with ease and power, in and out, fast and hard, and in an angle that makes you wail, bullying all the right spots until you can't hold it in you anymore. You come with a croaked cry as your body tenses up before it explodes into nothing but bliss, tiny lights dancing behind your eyelids, that soft warmth turning into a burning that devours all of you at once.

Through your orgasm the fake cock (or so you think) keeps pumping into you, those wet squelches are obscenely loud, and you moan and whine, hips bucking to meet the thrusts as your fingers dig into your own thighs, holding your legs squished against your breasts, your feet jumping above your head with every plunge.

And then it happens, your fluttering cunt gives way to the knot, but instead of plugging you up, it pops out, then plunges into you once more, and out again and in again, and you wail under the stretch and strange sensation of being stretched repeatedly. There's pain, but there's also blinding pleasure whenever it forces itself into you, and you keep coming from that motion alone, gasping and writhing, barely able to breathe or think or do anything but let it happen.

Now the whole length of the thing pushes into you, as deep as it'll go, bullying your cervix with its tapered tip, knot fully swallowed by your walls, then it's pulled back almost entirely before doing it all over again, driving you to the edge and over it and back and over in rapid succession. It's all a blur, but it feels so good, you could die on the spot just feeling it breaching your tight space over and over again.

Luckily, you don't die, you are just pushed from orgasm to orgasm, until every single nerve ending is buzzing and tingling, and you come to the point where you don't want to come any more. Not that the thing fucking you seems to mind that very much. It keeps going, in and out, your cunt giving off a lewd wet popping sound every time the knot is forced out and another wet slurping sound every time it's pushed in and swallowed by your walls. Along with your breathless whines and the squeaking of the bed, it's a cacophony of sounds driving you to the edge of sanity, and pleasure, and pain, and all of the above.

You feel yourself fading, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but just as you think you'll drift off now, the thing in your cunt plunges particularly deep, a final thrust full of power and strength, a heavy weight pressing you down as it prods painfully against your already battered cervix. You cry out, your body too confused, so it makes you convulse all over again as another orgasm crashes through you. The curved shaft stills inside you, ridges and nubs and its knot settling against your fluttering walls, and you feel as if it's throbbing and twitching, and the bulbs seem to grow, stretching you further, really plugging you up now.

A groan slips from your dry lips as it starts pumping something warm and filling into your cramped depths. Spurt after spurt, more and more, until you can feel your stomach bulging, tensing under the growing load, and your head is spinning as your body comes down from that strenuous but still utterly pleasurable experience. You feel a little drunk almost, dizzy and disorientated, wondering why you are still holding your legs up. But you stay like this, submitting to whatever leans over you, holding you down with their cock.

The last bit of your rational mind tells you you're just dreaming. Of course you are. And what a nice dream it is, hm? But then your eyes flutter open, and you blink at the darkness around you. It feels impenetrable, too dark. Even at night, you can usually make out the shape of your furniture, the outline of your windows, the streetlamps trying to push their light past your curtains. But you can see absolutely nothing. Did you even open your eyes?

You blink. Yeah, you did. There's something eerie in the way you're staring into the black void in front of you, it gives you chills, makes your body shudder, and as you jerk a little, you feel the weight and the pressure inside of you. The toy. It's still in there, buried deep, and it keeps throbbing, spewing liquid warmth into you. It feels so real. Your heart beats faster, your breaths quicken.

Then a strange hum fills the air, you freeze immediately, your eyes widening. It's a soothing sound as much as it is terrifying. It makes you stiffen, frozen in place, a deep chill running down your spine. And then there's this huff, like an exhale, and you can feel warm air wafting towards you, hitting your sweat-slick face. A tiny little croak escapes you as fear grips your limbs after all.

There is something, holding you down, impaling you on its cock, leaning over you, breathing right against your quivering lips. You can't see it, no matter how hard you try, but it's there. Huffing and puffing in a low, deep rumble, an unseen weight resting between your legs. Hot tears fall from under your lashes, running down your cheeks, but they never reach the pillow beneath your head.

It's a warm sensation, wet, almost a little slimy, and it feels like a tongue lapping at your skin, and the thought alone pushes you right to the edge of hysteria. Helpless whimpers escape you, but that disembodied, unseen tongue keeps licking up the tears continuously spilling from your eyes. Warm breaths dry your wet cheeks, those little huffs quieter now, calm and collected, and they slowly ease your own breathing as you stare ahead at nothing but blackness.

A little shriek is coaxed out of your throat when you feel the same tongue on your neck now, something soft nudging your calves until you let go of your legs and let them fall open against whatever has settled between them. They don't reach the soft bedding beneath but are held up now by something else, and you're too far gone to question it anymore. With your legs down, your torso is exposed to the shadows, your breasts trembling as your chest rises and falls quicker.

Those warm huffs of air hit your sensitive nipples before something warm circles them, and you can feel them being pulled and teased, making you shiver deeply, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your clit and fluttering cunt. The thick shaft inside you throbs as well, still leaking the occasional spurt of warm fluid. The knot is pulsing, tight and harder than before, or so it feels, those bulging veins on it rubbing deliciously against your stretched flesh.

You feel yourself drifting again under all these ministrations, lulled into your own darkness.

In your dreams, or whatever reality you find yourself in, you see a large shadow leaning over you. And you are calm about it, not afraid, but content. The appearance of the figure above you is hazy, like black smoke, fraying at its edges, no clear contour to make out. But what you can see (or think to see) are strong arms, a broad torso, muscles wherever you look. A display of strength and power and dominance, and in its shadow, you feel safe, protected.

You assume it's a large man, but you can't see his face. It's still too dark. But you can feel his breath on your skin, his lips trailing around your breasts, upwards to your collarbones, before you feel that warm tongue against your neck again. You tilt your head, giving him better access, and he hums deeply, showering you with little kisses and broad strokes of his tongue. Your pulse is fluttering against his mouth, and he senses your arousal, smells it. He seems to sniff you, hovering over you, warm and heavy.

“You are mine now,” you hear a low thrum in the air, assuming it's his voice. “My mate.”

You don't know what that means, but you're ready. You want it. And as if he can feel your approval, he leans in, his lips closing around your pulse, sucking softly, his teeth nibbling carefully, before you feel a different sensation. A pinch, a prick, a sudden cold stab when something sharp sinks into your skin.

You moan quietly as a strange warmth rushes through you (and out of you), the smell of metal wafting towards your nostrils, but you keep still, and without knowing what's happening, you let him bite you, mark you, and he grunts against you, holding your neck between his teeth as a shudder crashes through his big body that travels all the way to his cock buried deep inside of you. You feel it throbbing, the knot pulsing, and as your walls clench in response, you feel more warmth seeping into you as he fills you up again.

His hips grind against yours, soft little nudges, and you feel so good. An unusually gentle orgasm washes over you then, like a calming caress through your body that soothes you, eases your sore muscles, the slight pain in your neck, any other ailments you might have had. None of it matters anymore. You've found your mate. You're not alone anymore. You feel like coming home. Safe...

“What's your name?” you breathe out into the black void ready to consume you, not sure why you feel the need to ask this.

A huff of warm air moves over your face before a low hum vibrates in your ear. “Fenrir,” he growls quietly, and it's all you need to know as you inhale deeply, a soft smile grazing your lips.

Then, the darkness closes around you as if someone puts their hand over your eyes, whisking you away to sleep, or back to reality...

The next time you wake up, you are cuddled into your sheets, and the sunlight filters through your curtains. A new day, and you've never felt this refreshed before. Sitting up, you stretch with a soft squeak, rolling your neck, inhaling deeply. Your eyes move through the room, and the sight of the large dildo on your desk doesn't even confuse you anymore. It feels right to see it there. You stand up and walk past it on your way to the bathroom, your fingers sliding gently along its curved shaft.

In the midst of your morning routine, you hear the chime of your doorbell. Slipping into your fuzzy bathrobe, you hurry to the door, but when you reach it, whoever was there, is already gone. Though they left something behind. You bend down to pick up the small package, seeing your address on it and the usual postal stamps. Delivery? But you didn't expect anything.

You close the door and bring the unassuming box to your desk, putting it down next to the big toy on its base. Humming to yourself, mindlessly scratching at a spot on your neck, you open the package – and frown when you see its contents. Slowly you raise it out of its black satin bag. It's the dildo you ordered. The right size also. It's so small, barely as long as your hand, maybe the size of a soda can but much thinner, less than half the size of the toy that sits next to the opened box.

It's got the same design, the same ridges and nubs and the protruding bulbs of the knot, but it's so... tiny. You really ordered this? Apparently so, as you check the accompanying receipt and instructions. You can only half-remember that horny night when you browsed the site, and intimidated as you were, you chose the smallest size: Mini. You had no idea it would be this small. There's a picture of the different available sizes, and you realize the thing you actually fit into your cunt is the Large one. And just how large it is...

You shiver just thinking of having it inside you. But you also can't wait to put it back in. Your mind is hazy with memories of using it, of what really happened since you got it (and somehow you don't even wonder why you received two packages), and it's all a blur of ecstasy that makes you salivate and drip into the panties you put on.

Yet when you notice that the article has a name, you pause, blinking in confusion, your hand still scratching at what feels like a scabby wound on your neck. The name of the dildo feels familiar, like a distant memory, and it is –

As soon as you say it out loud, the big dark blue toy starts humming, its vibrations (even though you're not connected to it) sending shock waves through your whole body, activating all the right nerves. Your heart beats faster, your breaths turn into soft moans, and your cunt clenches hungrily around nothing.

“Fenrir.”

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[pearlymel]

·˚ ༘ ·If bad, then why does it feel good?˚. ༉‧₊˚ ft. Sylus.

SUM. You happen to share genuine feelings with the supposedly man you hate.

WC. 2.5k

WARNINGS. not mc fem! reader, fluffy smut MDNI, emotional feelings, unprotected sēx, soft needy sēx, enemies to lovers type shit, not proofread.

NOTES. Just sylus. Nothing more.

It always comes down to this.

The constant hatred for him, you want to literally pierce a bullet to his head. Why does he have to smirk everytime you try to throw curses towards him? Why does he have to press those dangerous lips over yours to shut you up?

Why does it feel so good everytime?

Damn him.

Lately, something—someone has been bothering you. A certain hunter from Linkon city who seems to have earn herself some attention from the leader of Onychinus.

You squint your eyes at the memory of their interaction, it was pathetic. He didn't seem to have any hatred for her whatsoever, he even seemed to help her.

Is he really pretending to be the good guy in front of her? Or was it all a facade?

“you're zoning out,” Sylus drawls lazily while tapping a finger on your cheek to bring back your attention to him.

Right, you were trying to kill him, again.

You still had him down against the seat while you were above him, still careful not to perch yourself on his lap. Your index that brushed too closely to the trigger shook even more when his thumb played dangerously close to the trigger, resting right on top of your index finger, and you feel like the air is being taken away from your lungs.

“It seems like this isn't entertaining you anymore,” you shoot him a stare and he raises an eyebrow, “perhaps… miss hunter is being too soft on you.”

You watch at how his eyebrows raise in amusement, he knew he had the upper hand in this situation, and it was clear to him that you did as well.

He noticed your voice change, and how your fingers still trembled against the gun still pointed at his chest. Even in your feigned bravado, you couldn't mask your unease. Too easy.

"My," Sylus' eyes darkened as he looked up at you with the slightest curl of his lips lifting upwards, "Are you.. jealous?”

This is ridiculous, and you feel offended even. “Why the hell would i be jealous of stray cats?” you argue back, and he seems almost pleased by your answer, “atta girl.”

Not being able to handle him anymore, you make the decision to press on the trigger without thinking, that the loud bangcaused you to gasp in fear as you drop the gun from your hand.

So close.

Sylus remained still for a few moments as he glanced to his side at the bullet hole on the seat beside his head.

“You missed.” He stated, like he was disappointed.

“Did you not want me to miss?!”

He smiles, "And spoil the fun? Never." Clearly he was playing with your feelings at this point.

He brought a hand up, his fingers tangling into the messy strands of your hair, pulling firmly enough to tilt your head to the side. His eyes studied your own, his gaze roaming over every part of your expression, trying to figure out what you would do next.

"You should try again." He said lowly, his voice almost a whisper. "Maybe you'll hit me this time.”

You press your lips into a thin line at the proximity between you, and your hands find his shoulders, “you can't die.. yet.”

"Oh, don't you worry, sweetie. I'm not gonna die so easily." He let out a dry laugh as if it was obvious.

"That is, unless you end up killing me.”

The change in your expression didn’t go unnoticed by him, the worry, the concern, the frustration, the anger. It's all so interesting.

His hand left your hair to snake around your waist to finally pull you down on his lap, and that's when he felt your hands come to hold his face so dearly, your eyelashes fluttering between his eyes and lips.

You held him close to you as if he was the only thing that mattered—and he was, really.

You embraced him like you were lovers, like you were holding someone dear in your arms. With your arms looped around his shoulders, to pour all your love into his lips, you always did that whenever you kisses. Always soft, sweet, and slow.

Yet Sylus wanted to return the kiss deeply, his tongue trying to seek yours in a desperate, hungry manner. Like he's never kissed you before.

You part your lips for his tongue to delve further in, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he were trying to memorize the taste, the one he's already used to, but it only seems to be sweeter with each exchanged kiss.

He let out a low moan, feeling completely consumed by you. His hands continued to roam your body, exploring every contour and curve, every dip and valley, as if he was trying to commit you to memory.

You pant softly when his lips leave yours to graze the skin of your jawline and neck, but you tug ay his hair before he could do anything.

“no marks.”

“and why?”

“I can't walk around looking like that—”

Then it hits you, what the hell were you even doing?

You push yourself off him, stumbling slightly back when you stood up abruptly, but you don't reach for the hand that's out for you to balance on.

“This is messed up.” You say your thoughts out loud before you could stop yourself, and your fists clench to your sides.

He leaned forward to follow after you, leaving the warmth of the seat behind him, he then speaks with a tilt of his head, "I'd say what we've been doing is pretty normal for our relationship, wouldn't you?"

You sigh, “normal? What even are we?”

Ah, that question.

"Oh, you know. We’re just enemies with a mutual hatred for each other, who just happen to kiss each other on the regular. Nothing out of the ordinary here, sweetie." His tone dripped with sarcasm, “totally nothing odd here.��� you try matching his sarcasm with a glare.

He met your glare with his own gaze, his expression suddenly turning serious.

"Why are you acting like doing this," he gestured between the two of you, "is something completely new? Has it ever occurred to you that doing this may actually feel good?" He paused for a moment, watching your expression twist into confusion, “you say you hate me, but let me ask you this: what do you feel when you're around me? Hate, or something else entirely?”

"I—” you press your lips shut when you realise you don't even know the answer to that. How did he feel about this?

"it feels like a drug yet I can't let go off." You settle with your answer quietly.

He takes a slow step forward, “you make it sound like an addiction, sweetie.”

“it is an addiction.” you confirm bluntly, and his smirk widens further.

“Mm, a drug you can't let go of.”

“A drug i need to let go of.”

He stops at his tracks, "You,” Sylus stares down at you, “think you can just let go of me that easily?" He asked, before moving closer, his body practically looming over yours now, trapping you against the wall. His hand came up to rest on the wall beside your head, his arm caging you in.

You're trapped, with nowhere to go, “i made a mistake, I'll leave—”

“No.” he captured your wrist in a tight grip when you tried making your way out.

Sylus’ grip on your wrist loosened when you winced the first time he grabbed it, his hand shifting down instead to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"You really think I'd just let you walk out that door and never see you again? You must be joking," he scoffs, his tone taking a lower route, and you're surprised.

"You're... you're mine, damnit.”

You blink twice, “since.. when?”

He lets out a sharp exhale, his patience and self-control slowly fading. "Since our first shared kiss," he practically growls out, "you may be a difficult, infuriating, little brat, but goddamnit if you're not mine.”

Sylus can see the range of emotions flickering across your face as you digest his words, those same expressions he always sees, this time, it's all anger and frustration.

"You look like you're about to explode, darling," he says, his voice coming out in a mocking drawl. "Want to shout at me? Let it out. Tell me how much you hate me again, because we both know that's bullshit.”

“it's no—”

“don't even try to lie to me,”

“i hate y—”

“lying, again.”

“Sylus.” You let out sharply, you were getting tired or him cutting you off.

He listens, it doesn't feel too shocking now. You're just.. overwhelmed.

Do you feel like crying? Yes. Do you want to really cry in front of him? No, of course not. But the tears threatening around your eyes is too hard to wipe off now.

And Sylus tenses when he realized the gravity of the situation, he doesn't waste time to lift your chin up. And the sight makes his heart ache abnormally.

“don't,” he whispers softly before taking you in a warm embrace, where your face us pressed against his chest.

You exhale, the hug is genuine, it feels like he's hugging your heart. You wrap you arms back around him, no wonder you always feel your little heart beating around him.

"we're both stubborn, hot-headed, and too proud to back down," He whispers against your hair, “But beloved, i… am sorry if i failed to see your genuine feelings.”

You tighten your arms around him, beloved, you like the sound of that.

You tip your head back up, and you can notice the way his eyes seem to soften… like that one snowy time.

And you lean to peck his lips, it makes him smile before he returns the kiss with a gentle press of his lips onto yours.

…

You mentally agreed with yourself that you would stop at kissing. Only a few kisses here and there… It felt too easy and natural to listen to his whispers

Your eyes rolled back almost every time he nudged against your sweet spot, making your jaw slack, and you don't let go off the hem of his blouse for not even a second with how of a tight hold you had on the fabric.

You would both get like this everytime your emotions were heightened. You crave this, it's a need at this point.

But this time it's different, it doesn't feel like two beasts ravishing eachother, this feels… slow, and romantic.

You both were not even fully undressed.

"Sylus," you whispered breathlessly, followed by a soft whine with how full you felt with the inches buried deep inside you.

spreading your legs even wider, Sylus pushed himself deeper until you took all of him. His hands caressing your trembling thighs, "Feel me, what you do to me." His hips snapped forward in a slow rhythm, grinding against your sensitive clit with each thrust.

Sweat glistened on his skin as he worked you over, oh how tortuous it felt with you clenching around him, your slick walls fluttering and massaging his aching cock. The wet sounds of your skins filled the room, obscene and erotic.

Sylus reveled in it, in the knowledge that he was the one making you break so beautifully.

Leaning in, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your desperate moans. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as his hips continued their slow rhythm—threatening to just thrust in fast and hard.

Yet he knew better than to ruin the moment.

Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent. "Do you want to cum?" he murmured huskily, his words vibrating against your skin. "I want to feel you come all over my cock." His fingers found your clit, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nub but your hand tries to pry his fingers away, you didn't want this to end just yet.

“Please no, i-i want to feel more of you.. harder.” a plea, and he swears you're going to be the death of him.

"Greedy princess, aren't you? Wanting more of me even when you're already stuffed full." He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours. You could feel every thick, hard inch of him buried inside you, stretching you deliciously.

His hands now gripped your hips bruisingly tight as he started to move faster, harder. Just like you wanted, he was only following along.

"I'll give you more, sweetie. I'll fuck you so deep, so hard, you'll feel me for days," Sylus promised with a chuckle, and you arch your back while pulling at the fabric of his blouse, "gonna ruin this pussy until it's molded perfectly to my cock."

True to his word, he picked up the pace, pounding into you relentlessly. And you wanted to scream.

“h-hah, right there—” your head rolled back and your lips stayed parted, your eyes half-lidded and you could barely feel your legs.

Sylus could feel his own release fast approaching, his balls drawing up tight, but he gritted his teeth, holding himself back. He wanted to make you come first, wanted to feel your slick walls spasming around him.

"That's it, sweetie" he panted, “Mmh—ah—!” and you cry out when you came, it felt different, you feel wetter than before, you just squirted without even realising from how fucked out your head was.

Sylus groaned as he felt you gushing all over his crotch, your body quivering and quaking in the throes of your intense orgasm. "Fuuuck, that's it my love, let it all out," he rasped, continuing to thrust into your fluttering heat as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

As your climax subsided, leaving you boneless and panting, Sylus slowed his thrusts but didn't stop. He rolled his hips in deep, languid strokes, savoring the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his throbbing length.

Sylus drank in your needy whimpers and moans with messy kisses this time, “I love you," he babbled, and you barely comprehend what he had just said.

And with a final thrust, Sylus buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside you. He groaned long and low, his hips twitching with each spurt of his release into you.

You both gaze into eachother's eyes after calming down, your eyes trying to search for the love in them.

“what are you starting at?” You mumble first, breaking the silence. He caresses your cheek at first, “etching your face in my head.” His answer was simple, yet it meant too much to you.

“Did you mean it?” You can't help but ask, “when you said you.. love me?”

Sylus’ lips spread before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “i love you.” He whispered his declaration of love to you quietly for the second time.

[rowarn]

shadow entity!ghost part: one | two | three

cw: angry!ghost, umm he hurts u )-:, but he feels bad so it's okay, a bit shorter than other parts

the mystery surrounding ghost was driving you insane. living with a primordial entity of unfathomable horrors was already a mindfuck but now you realized it could just...erase people from existence.

no one had asked about phillip, no one had shown up to seek you out since you were the last one to see him before he vanished. you even wandered into the bar he said he frequented -- and he seemed well known in. and...nothing. no one even brought up how he went home with you and never returned. no one asked about him.

it was unnerving. had ghost somehow pulled all memory of this one human out of the world along with its physical form? where did phillip even go? all you remember was being surrounded by the shadow and how hard it was to breathe -- and the horrible, inhuman scream before silence.

it had already confirmed that it wasn't a ghost. so what was it?

"ghost?" you called into the house as you returned from the bar, "can you come out so we can talk?"

as you stepped into the living room, you took a glance at the scorch mark on the floor before your attention was diverted to it -- a shadowy manifestation across from you.

it didn't speak, simply stood there. usually you would divert your eyes from its face because something about it unsettled you, but this time you stared right at it. shapes formed and faded before your eyes, making you wonder if you were really seeing them in the first place. eyes, sometimes two sometimes dozens. a vague, fading silhouette of a skull face. you wonder if it intentionally let you see these images or if it just was.

"i-i want to know..." you swallow thickly around the nervous lump in your throat, "is phillip dead?"

it was quiet for a moment, "not quite."

"what's that mean? where is he?" you prod, furrowing your brows as you stare at it, hoping that it can understand your pleading.

"why do you care?"

"b-because..." you sputtered, licking your dry lips, "i just...want to know."

"he's in the pits," it finally supplies, sounding almost bored.

"...of hell?" you sputter, "so you're a demon?"

"your hell is a bastardization of the pits," it explains, "where i come from is not hell. it's worse, darker. that's where i put the human."

"can you...can you bring him back..?" you whisper.

ghost's shadow flickers and it falls silent for a moment before speaking again, "i could. but you don't want that."

you can't help but think you'll regret asking but you do anyway, "...why?"

"he's not the same anymore," it explains, "it's much kinder to simply leave him in the pits."

you're not sure how to take that. it doesn't answer any of your questions. what exactly are the pits? what happens in them? what is happening to phillip down there?

"ghost..." you take a small step back and you swear you see it's head cock to the side curiously, "what are you?"

"you can consider me a demon if you wish," it responded, taking a step forward to follow you.

your heart skips a beat, "but you're not."

"no," it answers with ease.

"so tell me what you are," you demand, growing tired of these mind games it's playing with you.

"i don't think your human mind can comprehend just what i am," it says.

"try me," you challenge, already mentally slapping yourself.

"no," it responds.

your temper flares, "just tell me, damn you! what the hell are you?"

suddenly, the shadow grows in size -- as do your eyes. you watch as it takes up more space in the room, that overpowering weight on your body making you wince. it makes the room feel so heavy, makes your bones ache to the marrow.

you're not sure how you know -- despite the fact it's not saying anything; you know you've made it very angry. your eyes lock onto his shadowy form, making out the horrible, unsettling images of eyeballs inside the darkness that flicker in and out of your vision.

nausea settles like a pit in your stomach and you double over, dropping to your hands and your knees to keep yourself from throwing up. your head throbs and aches, a ringing in your ears only makes the pain worse. it feels like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets from the overwhelming pressure growing inside your skull.

"s-stop..." you manage to choke out before you slump against the floor.

then, all at once it's gone. you gasp for air once it finally feels like there's nothing coiling around your lungs and tears trickle down your cheeks. you're not sure if you're trembling from the pain or from the fear you just experienced.

you can't bring yourself to uncurl yourself from the ball you've found yourself in on the floor.

you're acutely aware that ghost hasn't left -- in fact, you can hear it's heavy footsteps on the creaky wooden floor as it approaches you. it kneels down, disturbing the air around you with the movement.

you feel a strange weight on your head and it takes your foggy mind a moment to realize that it's touching you. as if it had reached a hand out and was tenderly petting your head, consoling you.

a silent apology before it vanishes completely.

when you finally uncurl and look around, you see yet another strange, scorch mark on the ground where it had stood.

you realize instantly that those scorch marks are a manifestation of it's anger. pure, unbridled rage that leaves a physical mark on the ground where it stands.

you swallow thickly and close your eyes again, deciding that standing is much too hard for now.

do not repost to third party sites. reblogs okay!

[ph4ngz]

HOW THEY FUCK YOU || BLUE LOCK

w/ isagi, chigiri, bachira, rin and sae :D reo, nagi and kunigami version here <3

Isagi Yoichi fucks you with ultimate passion. He loves to see his best and beautiful girl bouncing up and down each time he forces his hard cock inside of your— no, his perfect pussy. With his forearms resting beside your head, he'll murmur sweet nothings into your open mouth as he shakes his head so that your noses touch a few times. "Let it all go..." he'll grant you a long, fiery kiss when you're about to cum just to hear and watch you gasp for air as he thumbs your pulsing clit, "you're so gorgeous when you cum on my cock, such a pretty girl". Most of the time, Isagi won't let himself cum until you're incapable of moaning anything but his name and his name only.

"C'mon baby, moan my name. Hell, fuckin' scream it if you want to. F-Fuck!" he'll pry it out of you, he always does. It's not like you can help it when he's making you feel so good, its the only name you'll ever be thinking of no matter what situation you're in.

Chigiri Hyoma fucks you with unrivalled speed. He never fails to leave you unable to form a coherent sentence, your brain turning to mush throughout your fuck sessions every single time. "Hngh, what a view," he'll moan and kiss one of your calves laid upon his shoulders whilst drilling into your sopping cunt, having your asscheeks propped up on his knees so his arms can wrap around your limp thighs. Whenever you're trying to speak, Chigiri will change pace to fuck you faster. He can't get enough of your futile attempts at speaking, revelling in the cute, long-winded whimpers that jump along with his thrusts.

"Fuuuuck... a-almost too fast for this pretty pussy to handle..." he'll stutter, leaning his warm forehead into your raised leg before the soft walls gripping at his dick begin to constrict again, opening his clenched eyes to witness you cum without warning. "One more time, atta girl. Don't pass out on me, dumbass."

Bachira Meguru fucks you with eager fascination. There's no such thing as a boring sex life with him around. Your noises and expressions are what he thrives off of, so you can forget trying to keep anything from him as he will, without a doubt, succeed in getting the reaction he wants from you. He loves getting you all embarrassed with his unpredictable antics, like the times when he'll land a swift slap upon your swollen clit right after caressing you so gently. "Mmph!" he'll bite his lip playfully at the sharp impact and grin sinfully at your bowed brows, "my, myyyy~ you liked that, didn't you?".

Bachira will treat sex like a damn guessing game, you don't understand why though, seeing as he knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe it's to show you how amazing he is in bed without sounding so egotistical. "Are you going to cum? No? A-Agh, how about now? Just kidding. Cum all over me..." he'll joke whilst relentlessly slamming his hips against your ass, observing your body jolt uncontrollably in his lap. "That's it, that's my slutty little monster."

Itoshi Rin fucks you with intense craving. He's utterly obsessed with you. You're the one segment of his life that big brother Sae cannot touch, and he likes to keep it that way. He'll never get over the sensation of security your tight, wet pussy brings forth, his loud sighs and possessive gripping at your thighs giving him away every time. Everything about your existence stokes a desire within him, making him crave that particular, heart-melting expression that Sae could never achieve. "Huh, huh..." he'll pant into your neck whilst ruthlessly humping you against the wall, "only I can make you feel like this, only me...". He'll have your entire body quivering, convulsing under his expert touch in seconds, and its when you do reach your high that he pays more attention than he would during a fucking soccer match.

Rin would rather die than not be able to see you cum for him. For him to be content, he has to etch the memory into his brain. "Good girl, good girl," he'll lovingly caress your contorting face and angle his hips perfectly, "I want you to cum s-so hard for me, so hard for me that you forget your own name." Sometimes the rewarding sight ends up being too much for his poor heart to take in, ropes of white releasing inside of you unexpectedly.

Itoshi Sae fucks you with utmost confidence. He knows damn well that nobody can have the control that he has over you. You'd do anything for him. "Now, bend over and fucking take it for me." he'll demand whilst tapping his bare cock upon your asscheek, not a single worry about your obedience faltering because... its him, of course you'll obey. When he fucks you from behind, he loves to gently grab you by the neck and pull your back into his chest. He'll praise you for your best behaviour, heavy balls thumping against your clit with his brutal thrusting. "Like a fucking champion..." with a hand brushing stray hairs away from your heated face.

Out of all the trophies he's racked up over the past, you're by far his most treasured. Sae is reminded of this once he sees your plumped lips open in a silent scream, spongy walls vice-like around his length as your release hits you like a brick. "There you go, cream on my fat cock." he'll groan into your sensitive ear, the hand around your neck coiling tighter like a deadly constricter snake.

|| || || || ||

[earthchica]

never lose me | 2

Terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: Terry takes you out on a date and, afterward, makes passionate love to you.

warning: explicit smut (18+), fluff, oral (f), unprotected sex, sweet talking, creampie, slight daddy kink, foreplay, pet names (baby girl, baby, etc.)

note: thank you all for the incredible love you've shown for the first part. There are a lot more Terry fanfics on the way. 😝💗

part two of ( never lose me )

-

It was date night with Terry, and this date was supposedly going to be different from your previous dates, which were pretty low-key but fun.

You were checking yourself out in the mirror, admiring how the satin backless dress hugged your body in all the right places and beautifully color complemented your lovely brown skin.

A soft knock echoed through the hallway; quickly, you brushed a few stray curls away from your face before you hurried to the door and eagerly swung it open.

You were met with the sight of Terry, who stood tall and imposing. He wore a short-sleeved, black button-up shirt, black pants, and dress shoes.

Both of you let out a synchronized "Damn!" as eyes roamed from each other's heads to toes, resulting in a burst of shared laughter.

"Baby girl," Terry's deep voice was passionate as he entered your apartment.

"You look stunning in that dress," Terry expressed with a charming grin, gently placing his hand on your hip.

The warmth of his compliments never failed to bring a wide, lovesick smile to your face. Oh, the effect this man has on you.

"Thank you, Terry. You look mighty fine," you said, touching his shirt and admiring his handsome appearance.

With a confident grin, he replied, "Well, they don't call me playa, playa for nothing" while popping his collar.

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him on the chest which made him chuckle.

"I'm just playing. Thanks, baby...Oh, shit, I almost forgot, these are for you," he revealed, presenting a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind his back.

You took the bouquet of flowers with a genuine smile illuminating your face. Reflecting on your past relationships, you realize this was the first time anyone had given you flowers.

"Aww, Terry, thank you. They're absolutely gorgeous," You gently rose up on your tiptoes, leaning in to give him a quick, sweet peck on the lips.

After placing the flowers in a vase with water, you grabbed your purse and keys and left your apartment together.

-

"So…where are you taking me tonight, handsome?" You inquired, observing him start the car before turning to look at you.

"You'll find out soon, baby. Be patient," he replied, flashing that charming smile that always made your heart flutter.

You gasped when you arrived at your all-time favorite jazz club. It offered delicious food, a live jazz band, and a dance floor. 

You used to sing here every friday night with the live band, and Terry would always come and support you; sadly, your dreams of becoming a singer never came true.

It had been a while since you last visited. You turned to Terry in surprise; he simply smiled and held your hand as you entered.

A rush of memories flooded back; this place was like a forgotten dream from the past. 

The serene ambiance, the captivating live music, and the sight of people dancing felt like magic rekindled.

You both settled at a candlelit table, ordered some wine, and savored the moment until the waitress approached to take an order.

"I think I'll go for the grilled chicken with rice," You mentioned, browsing the menu as she jotted it down, then turned to Terry.

"I'll have the steak with mashed potatoes and broccoli," He announced, returning the menu to the waitress.

"Great, I'll get the orders in right away," She said with a slight smile, and you both expressed gratitude as she walked off.

With confidence, he said, "I know, I know. I did the damn thang, huh?" and you couldn't help but laugh as you placed your hand on his.

"You did, Terry. Thank you, baby." You expressed your joy with a warm smile.

"Good! Cause all I ever wanted is to bring happiness to your life and see your beautiful smile," he said sincerely.

You gently assured Terry, caressing his cheek as he looked at you with deep love and sweetness, "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

"I know, baby girl," he murmured, gently pressing his lips against your hand, eliciting an even brighter smile from you.

You never thought you would see Terry's romantic side, but you were happy you did. He was so gentle and sweet; you only knew his tough and rough side.

The waiter brought the steaming, flavorful dishes to the table. As you two savored each bite, engaged in lively conversation, discussing everything and anything.

The live band began to play a cherished, familiar tune that resonated deeply with you. Observing your delight in the soft melody, Terry realized it was the perfect moment for a dance.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, a warm smile on his face. He gracefully stood up and extended his hand towards you, inviting you to join him on the dance floor.

With a smile, you replied, "Yeah," as you placed your hand in his. He tenderly kissed your hand before guiding you to the dance floor.

Terry's warm hands rested gently on your waist as your hands were on his broad, steady shoulders.

The two of you swayed in perfect harmony with the music, completely absorbed in each other's eyes.

In that magical moment, it felt as though a captivating energy enveloped the two of you.

Transporting you both into a world where it was just two of you, dancing in a blissful cloud of love.

You never imagined experiencing love like this; for the past weeks, Terry made you feel incredibly loved and cherished.

You fell even more deeply in love with him with this entirely new and captivating side of him.

With a graceful movement, Terry spun you around and drew you close, planting a passionate and tender kiss on your lips.

You both savored a passionate minute of kissing, lost in the moment before reluctantly drawing back to catch your breath.

You gazed at him with so much love and desire, while his gaze reciprocated the same feelings.

Terry's voice was tender as he asked, "Does my baby need me?" He gently rested his hand on your cheek, his touch as soft as a whisper.

He possessed an intimate understanding of you; not a single word needed to be spoken.

“Mmm, come on, baby girl. Tell me what you need.” He whispered so profoundly and sensually.  

“Yes, I need you…Terry,” You whispered desperately, your fingers gripping his shoulder ferociously as if your life depended on it.

"Okay, baby," he grinned, his warm hand enveloping yours as you both strolled back to your table to pay the bill.

-

The drive back to your apartment felt like an eternity, and as you sat in the car, a wave of overwhelming lust made it seem like you were on the brink of losing your mind.

Terry wasn't help with stroking your leg. His touch was delicate, yet it had the power to get your panties soaked.

He was fully aware of his impact on you and wielded that knowledge precisely.

You were first to enter your apartment, the familiar scent enveloping you. The door clicks shut behind you, and before you can react, Terry presses you firmly against the wall.

A moan escapes your lips as his tender kisses trace a path along your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You both moved across the room to your bedroom and slowly shed each other's clothes.

“Terry…I need you.” You let out a gentle moan, slowly pulled away from the tender kiss, and then started to softly stroke his dick, but he stopped you. 

“Shh, I got you, baby—such a needy little thang," he says with a chuckle before continuing to talk.

"I’m going to eat that pussy first and then going to make love to you,” He spoke, carefully lowering you onto the soft bed.

Terry took his precious time, though. He began trailing a path of soft, tender kisses to your neck all down to your stomach, hands grasping your tits for a second.

You were so eager for more that Terry found it amusing how you couldn't hide your impatience and irritation.

Terry let out a deep chuckle as he shifted slightly to get a better view of the adorable little pout on your face.

"It's not funny, Daddy. I need you so bad; please stop teasing," You said, feeling like you were about to cry.

"How much do you need me, baby?" He asked, deeply kissing your inner thigh.

"So much, Daddy. I need you; I need you to eat my pussy, please," You begged.

"Mmmm, so wet and needy for Daddy. I'm giving you what you need, baby" he said, watching him spread your legs out a little wider before diving into you.

You gasped, placing your hand on the top of his head while the other was gripping the sheets. His tongue was magically sliding through your wet folds, swirling around your clit.

“Terry,” you whimper his name, and eyes roll in the back of your head, hitching your hips up an inch to get a little bit more.

Terry let out a little muffled growl, gripping your legs to rock your hips against his face, soaking his nose and mouth.

“So feels good,” You cried in pleasure, which was always music to his ears. 

He loved hearing how he made you feel good and the pleasure he gave you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head again when you felt his tongue hit an excellent sweet spot. 

“Mmm, you taste so good, baby.” He declares so deeply, voice sending shanks down your spine to your dripping cunt.

Terry dives back in, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace.

“Yes, yes, just like that daddy.” You moaned, feeling him begin to finger you while continuing to suck the soul out of you. 

He lifted a finger to your mouth, and you quickly sucked your juice on his finger, moaning, loving every minute of that. 

“Fuck...that’s my good girl,” He said with a little moan, pulling his finger out of your mouth, which made you whine.

He diving his tongue in and out of your pussy. Your legs began shaking and tense.

The dirty sounds of wet slurping mixed with the squelching of his fingers were...

“I’m so close, Terry…can I cum, please?” you whimpered, voice wavering more and more.

“Cum for me, baby,” he ordered, lips detaching as his fingers pressed hard and deep against that sweet spot.

You cried out his name, shaking from the great release. You lay there panting heavily, trying to get yourself together. 

Terry began kissing up your body to your lips, and you moaned, tasting your sweetness on his tongue. 

"You good, baby?" His voice barely above a whisper, he gently caresses your face, locking eyes with yours in a tender gaze.

"Shit...yeah!" You manage to say the words with a little chuckle. He responds with a grin, leaning in to plant another tender kiss on your lips.

Terry pulls away for a second to grasp his big, erect dick to fill you up perfectly. He groans at the feeling of you wrapped around him tight.

He leaned his forehead against your forehead, pulling out a little bit before thrusting back in, which made you gasp.

You were both in love, lost in the intensity of each other 's eyes as you began this passionate lovemaking. 

His thrusts were slowly and gently, the moans between you two were soft, and the holding of each other was so tight. 

"Shit," Terry groans deeply, throwing his face into your neck for a second before moving back up to fasten the pace a little bit. 

You loved feeling every inch of his dick slowly moving in and out of you. You may be a rough kind of girl, but this slow, gentleness was doing many things for you.

“Ah…you're so beautiful, baby. My girl, you're my girl, right baby?.” Terry gently asked while tenderly placing a kiss on your neck.

 “Yes, I’m your girl, Daddy,” you whispered, looking deeply into his beautiful eyes. 

Terry's strong arms effortlessly lift you, cradling you securely as you instinctively wrap one arm around his broad shoulders.

"Fuck, I love you baby." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, thrusting up a little faster, setting a steady rhythm. 

"Ah…Terry….I love you, I love so fucking much," You moaned, feeling your pussy clenching around his dick. 

Terry pushed a few curls out of your face before kissing you, gripping your waist tighter. 

You pulled away with a moan, feeling yourself getting ready to cum. Terry immediately could tell by the expression on your face.

"Cum baby. I'm right there with you," He whispers in your ear, which is all you need to go over the edge.

"TERRY!" You cried his name, orgasming intensely. He moaned with a firm grip, seizing the back of your neck while shooting his load inside you.

The two of you remained in that position for a brief moment until Terry gently guided you down to the soft pillows before slowly pulling out of you. 

"Damn, look at that" He smirks proudly, glancing down at his cum dripping out of your pussy. 

Your intense high begins to fade while Terry goes to get a soft washcloth to clean you up.

The two of you settle into a warm cuddle now, and you nestle your head and hand against his chest.

His strong arms wrapped around you, as his hands tenderly caressed your arms.

Both of you were filled with happiness and satisfaction, basking in the afterglow of a deeply fulfilling moment.

[sunkeji]

Re: reader having an NPC bf - i'd love to see you write something with this idea for either Savannaclaw or Diasomnia if possible! I think it'd be really funny to read how they'd deal with it

Reactions to you having an NPC boyfriend:

Heartslabyul Disomnia Savanaclaw

a/n: I haven't done Sebek and Silver's reactions bc idk much abt them 😔 Hopefully when I finish book 7 I'll know more abt them so I can finish Disomnia and have it as it's own post.

Warnings: mention of gaslighting, not entirely proofread (lmk if I missed anything)

Just so you know, if you ever told your clique (Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, and maybe Sebek) that you got yourself a boyfriend in NRC that's just some random NPC, chaos would erupt very quickly. They'd be the quickest to snitch to their dorm and vice dorm leaders alike about the newly acquired information too.

Malleus

As soon as he heard that you got a boyfriend his aura immediately darkened. The sky outside turned dark and thunder crackled. Clearly this is some sick joke. After all the special memories the two of you made together and special 'firsts' you did with him? Only to end up in another guy's arms? No way he's accepting that. In fact he'll go and confront you about it right now.

Lilia

Lilia is amused to say the least. He knows you're kind hearted, so you're probably just humoring the poor lads request. He'll let you have your fun in the meantime but as soon he thinks you've had enough time playing around, he'll let you know. 😬

Leona

Upright just goes to you and says "no that's not your boyfriend" with a straight face and stares at you. Like HELLO? Fym by that?? He'd just grab your hand and pull you away from your 'supposed' boyfriend and then gaslight you by saying that the guy was never your bf to begin with 💀

Ruggie

Stares at that thing with disbelief written all over his face. Like "that's your boyfriend? Damn I just might have a better shot than I thought" and then uses his special magic "Laugh with Me" to make your bf run away from you AND do stupid shit in front of you in hopes that you'll break it off with the guy (all behind your back btw)

Jack

His ears deflate and you can see his tail stop swaying. He even has a slight pout on his face too. Don't do this to him man 😔 Afterwards, he might hole himself up in his room and be in his feet for a while, but once he’s done, he’s going to work up the courage to confess to you. Even though you have a bf already 🤨🤨 (things might get messy for a bit)

[number1mingyustan]

exhusband!jeonghan headcannons

exhusband!jeonghan who was extremely possessive and protective over you when you were together, but seemingly more than ever since you ended things

exhusband!jeonghan who is dreading this whole co-parenting thing because he can’t be with his two favorite girls anymore

exhusband!jeonghan whose knuckles turn white against the steering wheel when his daughter mentions ‘mommy’s new boyfriend’ after he picks her up from school one day

exhusband!jeonghan who loses sleep over the thoughts racing in his mind about you

exhusband!jeonghan who has so much love for you but for the life of him just cannot communicate

exhusband!jeonghan who struggles to concentrate and go about his regular life because of there mere thought that he's not only lost you, but you now belong to someone else who'll never love you the way he does

exhusband!jeonghan who shows up at your apartment one night after dropping your daughter off at his parents house for the weekend

exhusband!jeonghan who calls you baby despite your protests because it's muscle memory and you'll always be his baby

exhusband!jeonghan who smells so fucking good and familiar when he leaves little distance between you two

exhusband!jeonghan who is quick to question you about your ‘new boyfriend’

exhusband!jeonghan who doesn't really want to hear what you have to say and doesn’t give you a proper chance you answer because his lips are on yours before you can respond

exhusband!jeonghan who stops himself when he realizes this behavior is part of why you aren’t together anymore

exhusband!jeonghan who has you begging and aching for him touch seconds later and can’t help but give in

exhusband!jeonghan who knows your body inside and out and relieves all the tension in your body when he touches you

exhusband!jeonghan who manhandles you and bends you over the kitchen counter

exhusband!jeonghan who drops to his knees and pushes his head between your thighs

exhusband!jeonghan who has a tight grip on your shaky legs as he uses his tongue to show you how much he misses you

exhusband!jeonghan whose eyes are dark and lustful, burning with passion for you and only you as he stands to his feet

exhusband!jeonghan who teases you about how “your little boyfriend can’t be doing it right if you’re still this damn tight” when he slips his cock into you

exhusband!jeonghan who teases you at first, then suddenly thrusts his cock into you with force and speed, knocking the wind out of you

exhusband!jeonghan who fucks you dumb, making it hard for you to form a proper sentence

exhusband!jeonghan who chastises you for being “so fucking stupid to leave him” as he fucks you from behind

exhusband!jeonghan who cums inside of you with a loud groan, uncaring about the risks and possible consequences

exhusband!jeonghan who kisses you sloppily when you're coming down and have hardly caught your breath and holds you up as your legs shake

exhusband!jeonghan who tells you this is a reminder that you'll always be his as his fingers press against the ring you still have on your finger

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[eddiesvixen]

Parental Guidance

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗘𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘃 (𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁), 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 (𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴) MDNI 18+, 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 (𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁!𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟱.𝟲𝗸

the fourth chapter of Open Til Midnight

Every day you scream at me to turn the music low

Well if you keep on screaming, you'll make me deaf you know

You always chew me out because I stay out late

Until your three-piece suit-

Once you hear Eddie’s voice crack you stop strumming the chord he’d asked you to play.

Eddie sighs. “This isn’t working.”

“Come on. It was one crack Eddie and it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Does if we wanna earn enough cash tonight.” He flops onto the sofa next to you.

It is a lot of pressure. Eddie called up the boys Tuesday night after dropping you off at home from your date and Wednesday they rehearsed all day to prepare for today.

Corroded Coffin Live at Empire Records, 6-8pm

Live music, 15% off all cds, $7 admission.

Not bad, right?

“We’ll make enough, Eddie. Corroded Coffin’s got some great originals, this is just to fill in for extra time, okay? Nothing wrong with a few covers.”

“I know,” he sighs, knee bouncing a bit as he runs his hand through his messy curls. “It’s just a lot. I perform for fun. For the music, for the energy behind it. Kinda feels like im using my band for charity tonight. And it doesn’t help that we’re two days away from the first and still under having six thousand.”

You frown a bit, knowing he’s right.

“If it’s too much we can always cancel.”

“No.” He sits up and stretches. “Gotta try, right? Besides, I guess me and the guys could use the exposure.”

You nod and sit back against the sofa. “Let’s just take a break.”

He agrees and stands. “Bathroom break.”

“I’ll make more coffee.” You walk to your kitchen as Eddie closes the door to your restroom.

He always loves it here. He likes all tour different soaps and skincare products. The fuzzy dark leopard print rug, your black toothbrush next to the dark red one he’d kept here for when he crashes. The vanilla cherry soap you always buy makes his callouses less rough and he gets obsessed with the way the scent lingers.

He washes his hands after emptying his first cup of morning coffee and fixes his wild curls. ‘Pull it together, Munson.’ He did fantastic as always rehearsing with the guys yesterday. Is he ready to perform at the store tonight? Hell yeah. So why couldn’t he sing right now for you?

You.

The scent of your body wash from the previous night. The way your legs look in those henley shorts, the way you look at him when he sings. The way you had been snuggled into his side while sharing your bed. He only wished he could spend every night in your bed, sleeping together, holding you, maybe even more one day..

Who are you kidding? She’s your best friend. The same girl you’ve know for half of your life. If she liked you that way, she’d be obvious about it, right?

Right.

He walks out of the restroom and sees you stirring the sugar in your coffees. It’s 11am but you both know you’re gonna need it for today. You both sit on the sofa again and sip your coffee.

“Damn, I swear you’ve got magic hands or something.” He chuckles and grips his mug with both hands this time as he drinks more.

“Just took a few pointers from Wayne.” You grin at the memories.

Twelve years old and standing under Wayne. He’d let you do something easy like make the toast or pour the juice. The one day you asked him to help make coffee he didn’t even hesitate. ‘Gonna be real simple.’ He taught both you and Eddie so much that your father’s never could’ve.

“Color me impressed.” He grins and sits his mug down. “I actually forgot to tell you with everything going on.”

You raise a brow, sipping your coffee before setting your mug down as well. “Tell me what?”

“Wayne’s coming to stay with me for a few months, till he finds his own place.”

You smile. “Wow. I didn’t think anything could pry him away from his trailer.”

“Yeah, well if you ask me I think he’s got a lady friend who’s tired of living in Hawkins. Wants to get him back into traveling.”

You sit up and gasp, facing Eddie fully this time. “Shut up! Wayne Munson has a lover?”

He grins. “Yeah but don’t tell anyone okay? He told me she’s pretty shy and well, you know how stoic he is. He wouldn’t say much but I’d hate to see him pissed.”

“Lips are sealed.” You nod and grin. “Just can’t believe he’s seeing someone. I thought Munson men didn’t like romance.”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Hey now, that’s a bold assumption. Munson men like romance. We just… like to pretend we don’t. Gotta keep up the family rep, you know?”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “So… you’re saying you do like romance?“

He hesitates and leans back on his elbows. “I didn’t say that. But come on, you don’t think I’m secretly writing love ballads in my notebook or something do you?”

You grin, finding that image cuter than you would like to admit. “I wouldn’t put it past you, actually. I’ve seen the way you get all starry-eyed when you play your guitar.”

Eddie’s face flushes faintly as he fumbles for a comeback. “Ridiculous, sweetheart. That’s called passion, not romance.”

“If you say so,” you tease. “But maybe romance runs in the Munson blood, huh? Wayne’s got his mystery woman, and you’ve got…” You trail off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Eddie blinks, caught off guard. “Got what?”

You shrug casually, finding a way to disguise your current snooping as friendly conversation. “I don’t know. I mean, I already had a shitty date. Anyone take you on a shitty date? Someone catch your eye?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his wild curls. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

You lean in a little closer with what Eddie could only see as the cutest grin. “That wasn’t a no.”

Eddie grins back and his voice softens as he says, “Maybe there’s someone. Or maybe I’m just focusing on the music for now.”

“Uh huh,” you say, letting it go though you can’t help but notice the flicker of something vulnerable in his expression. Eddie Munson might act like he’s all about the music and rebellion, but there’s a part of him that’s clearly not as untouchable as he wants the world to think. And it shows every time he talks to you alone like this. As if it’s reserved for your eyes only.

“Anyways,” he says, clearing his throat and breaking the moment, “Wayne deserves to be happy. He’s been through enough and he raised me so.. if this lady makes him smile then I’m rooting for them.”

Your chest warms at the sentiment and you nod. “I think it’s sweet. But if she ever needs a wingwoman i’m here.”

Eddie snorts. “I’ll let him know you’re offering services. Though fair warning, Wayne might not appreciate you meddling in his love life.”

“Not meddling,” you say with a wink. “Just… supporting.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face says he doesn’t mind your teasing one bit. You sip your coffee again before getting running through tonight’s set list with Eddie one last time.

~~~~~~

“I must say, i’m impressed.” Larry says as he counts the money in the envelope.

Today he’s wearing jeans, as if he’s trying to impress you guys. As if it’ll make him younger, cooler, more chill. You hate it even more than the fancy suit he had on last time he was here.

“We’re all chipping in, it’s a process.” Hopper says from behind his desk, you and Larry sitting in the chairs that lie in front of it.

“Well sentiment is sweet but let’s face facts here. I have a meeting at 2 and an open house at 4:30 so..” He pulls books from his brief case, a napkin and an envelope of his own. “Lets talk business.”

You look at the books. “What’s all this?”

“These.. are the top four novels at Rutgers University right now. And the first in line for purchase to put on the shelves when Bassinger’s Library and Cafe opens.” He grins, saying the name like it’s already existent.

Hopper grabs one book. “Taxes for dummies. They said this place was gonna be an educational space.”

“And it will be. This book has been purchased vastly and I’ve heard nothing but good news about it.”

You look at the napkin. That stupid napkin with the fancy lettering on it. “And these are official?”

Larry smiles. “That they are. Go on and feel it, they’re made from the finest linens.” He holds it out to you and you don’t bother to reach out.

“Pass.”

Hopper speaks up. “Look, Larry. I get it. Business is business but we do still have two days left in our lease and an event to plan tonight-“

“And that’s why I’m here.” Larry opens up the envelope.

You raise a brow and look at Hopper. When he shrugs you both sit up and look at the.. check? A check for twenty one thousand dollars. Larry’s done the math.

“You have 6 employees, Jim. Seven once you include yourself. Now I am a fair man but I am mainly a working man. And I need this lot.”

“We don’t take bribes.” Hopper says simply.

“Offer, not a bribe. You take this check, you and your employees are walking away with a fresh good hard earned 3k each.” He smiles and pops the check before sitting it onto the desk.

“You’re trying to buy us out?” You glare at him.

“I need a lot and you need money so-“

“No what we need is our jobs! The jobs we actually enjoy doing. The jobs we’ve been fighting for all week, raising cash and holding this place down so corporate assholes like you don’t get the chance to take it away.”

Damn, it felt good to get that out.

“I can throw in an extra thousand for you young lady, but that is all.”

“And what exactly are you… asking for here?” Hopper sits up, arms folding over his desk.

“Forget your party. No events tonight, no awareness. Just take the money, close the store and hand me the keys. Today.”

“Are you crazy?” You glare at him with a slight frown. “You gave us a deadline.”

“And im offering a lift before you embarrass yourselves tonight. 5k in two days? Do you really see that happening?”

Truth is.. you were afraid, but you never show it. Determined and optimistic to save this place. Selling instruments, music, shoes and even dealing at that party with Eddie. You try to argue back but no words come out. And from your silence alone, Larry smirks. That is until Hopper speaks up.

“Get out.”

Larry huffs. “Excuse me? I have-“

“Get out of my office and my store.”

Larry stumbles for a moment, his confidence faltering as he glances between you and Hopper searching for an ally. For defense. He finds none.

You're still standing there speechless as your fists stay clenched at your sides. Part of you wants to yell, to tell Larry exactly where he can shove his smug attitude, but Hopper's presence says it all for you.

Larry narrows his eyes, his bravado returning just slightly as he straightens his suit. "Fine," he spits with venom. "But don't come crawling to me when you're out of options. You think this place is worth saving? You're just delaying the inevitable."

As much as it hurt you, you stayed silent. ‘The man always wins. Always.’ Hopper’s words linger in your mind, so you keep quiet.

But Hopper doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink. He simply points to the door.

"Last warning."

Larry puts his books and his check back into the briefcase but leaves the napkin. “To dry your tears.” And with that he leaves you and Hopper in the silence of his office.

He leans back against his desk, arms crossed and he looks at you with a mixture of exasperation and concern. "You okay?" he asks, his voice gentler now.

You nod quickly, though the truth is more complicated than that. Okay isn't exactly the word you'd use. Anxious. Shaken. Maybe even a bit nauseous. You feel a swirling mix of anger, fear, and an overwhelming pressure to keep everything together. But Hopper doesn't push for more, which you're grateful for.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, finally finding your voice. "I didn't mean for it to get... like that."

Hopper shakes his head. "Don't apologize for him. Larry's a parasite, always sniffing around for easy pickings, you’re alright ."

Still, guilt tugs at your chest. You can’t help but feel a little defeated by Larry and his ‘delaying the inevitable’ bull. "But he's right. We're.. I mean, I'm running out of options here, Hop. I thought I had it under control, but-"

"Hey," Hopper interrupts, his tone firm but kind. "You're not doing this alone. You’re smart and this store It wouldn’t run right without you. We'll figure it out.”

~~~~~

“Okay the balloons are all done. Me and Steve will prep the stage and Jonathan’s gonna record the performance.” Chrissy says from behind you.

You nod. “Okay.” A bit zoned out if you will.

You’re too focused on the beautiful boy on the makeshift stage. Long dark curls and the silver of his tummy showing as he stacks his amps. The way his dark lashes rest against his cheeks as his eyes shut while laughing at a joke Jeff cracked.

“Hellooo..” Chrissy shakes her head and grins.

You look at her and grin. “Right. The balloons.”

"Yeah, the balloons. Unless you plan on floating away with them," Chrissy teases, nudging you gently with her elbow.

You roll your eyes playfully, your gaze involuntarily drifting back to Eddie. He's still up on stage, his fingers fiddling with wires now and his grin brighter than the string lights lining the back of the room. It's almost unfair how effortlessly captivating he is. It’s even more ridiculous how much you want him.

Chrissy notices and raises a brow. "You're totally zoning again. Should I just tie a balloon to your wrist and call it a day?"

"I'm not zoning," you protest weakly, cheeks warming.

"Sure you're not," she says with a smirk, grabbing a few more balloons. "You're just... intensely observing, huh?"

“I’m looking out for my friend, it’s not that deep.” You laugh at her raised brows. “Besides, it’s not like i’m stalking. I just wanna make sure tonight goes perfectly. Which means everything on that stage needs to be perfect.”

“Especially Eddie, right?” She gives you a knowing look and before you can argue Steve walks up to you both behind the counter.

“Alright ladies. Everything’s all set. The guys are tuning up. Ready to open the doors?”

Chrissy nods. "Yeah we're good to go." She looks back at you with a knowing grin. "Right?”

You groan quietly, giving the last string a tug before letting it float with the others. The night hasn't even officially started, and you already feel like your heart's been doing a soundcheck of its own.

Decor, check. Music, check. Food, check. After an hour or regular work, customers arrive and place cash into the bin at the door with Robin and Steve watching over it. Chrissy and Jonathan are preparing the camera and lights since the performance starts in five. Corroded Coffin is on the stage, ready to perform, hyped, nervous and… missing their lead singer?

You look for Eddie in the break room. You look for him in the back of the store, through the window into the parking lot, in the restroom. No sign of him.

Then you remember his favorite spot in the store. You go up the stairs and look through the window of listening booth number 7.

Eddie’s sat on the bench. His knee bouncing, head hung low and the headphones keeping his wild curls down. You and gently knock before walking in, closing the door behind you. He takes the headphones off and you hear the Beatles spilling through the headphones.

“Mind if I sit?” You nod at the space next to him.

He nods and moves over on the bench. “Yeah, just.. prepping a bit-“

“You know you can tell me anything Eddie, right?” You look over his face. The way his nerves have him in a chokehold. His hands gripping the headphones a bit too tightly.

“I know.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, he hangs the headphones on the wall. “Just.. this performance. I don’t wanna disappoint anyone.”

‘I don’t wanna disappoint you.’

"You could never disappoint anyone, Eddie," you say softly, hoping to ease his nerves. "Especially not me."

Eddie looks at you with his big brown eyes, swimming with doubt and vulnerability. "You say that now, but what if I mess up? What if I blank out or miss a note? Everyone's counting on me."

You reach out, your hand hesitating for a moment before settling on his knee. His bouncing leg stills under your touch. "Eddie.. you don't have to carry the whole world on your shoulders. This is for the store, yeah? But it’s about you too. You don’t have to worry because everyone’s here Eddie. I’m here.“

He looks down at your hand, placing his heavier one over yours. He looks back up at you, his expression softening. "You're too good to me you know that?"

"Not possible," you say with a grin. "Now, what do you need? A pep talk? A distraction? I'm at your service."

Eddie leans back against the wall, his shoulders relaxing just a little. "Honestly? Just.. stay here for a bit? I don't wanna be in my head anymore."

You nod, scooting just a little closer so your shoulder brushes his. "I can do that."

You both sit as the music spills from the headphones, and Eddie lays his head on your shoulders. His hair tickles your neck but right now you wouldn’t dare move or disturb the peace you both have in this moment. He hesitates before lacing your fingers with his and you acknowledge each other with a simple squeeze of the hand.

You sat there until the clock hit 6:30. Showtime.

Eddie’s on the makeshift stage and the store has a bit of a crowd. A small one, sure. But still a crowd. You sit on the counter, looking ahead at the boys as they introduce themselves. Of course, he can’t help but look at you. He speaks into the mic to the crowd.

“You guys love it here at Empire Records?”

The crowd whoops and cheers, you included.

“So there’s a guy. This.. weird, cocky, obnoxious, pretentious guy. Wont say his name, yet. But he wants to shut the place down.” He dramatically frowns and clutches his chest as the crowd gasps.

‘Bullshit. No way! What a douchebag!’ Well at least the people agree with you.

“My thoughts exactly. He says we promote some.. provocative musical acts. How ‘bout we show him something provocative, hm?”

Jeff and Doug strum at their guitars and bass, starting off Judas Priest’s Parental Guidance.

Eddie smirks. “To hell with the man.” He strums his guitar, stepping up to the mic and he starts to sing. You watch his fingers as they expertly move over the strings, he nods his head as his voice tinges the mic with a soothing but angry rasp.

‘You say I waste my life away but I live it to the full

And how would you know anyway?

You're just Mister Dull

How don't you get into the things we do today?

You could lose twenty years right away

So we say’

And you all sing back at him.

We don't need no

No, no, no parental guidance here

Everyone rocks out and dances, enjoying Corroded Coffin’s original songs and covers. Everyone agreed that the energy in Empire Records tonight was charged and thriving off of your sole reason: to keep this place alive.

You even managed to make some sales and by the time Steve and Robin finished counting the cash you got tonight, your final product rested at a solid seven thousand. Tonight was the night that you knew. The night that you felt it. Empire Records belongs to the people. It belongs to you.

~~~~

“Cheers, to a very successful performance.” You grin and hold up a glass of champagne. Well.. one of Eddie��s mugs actually. He holds up another. “And to the Empire.”

You smile and clink your mugs together, sighing as you sip the champagne and sink into his sofa a bit more. “You absolutely killed it Eddie. Rob Halford himself would be jealous of the way you charmed us all tonight.”

He grins. “All in a day’s work princess. Besides, it felt good performing with the boys like that again.”

You smile at his words and set your mug down on the coffee table, turning slightly to face him. "Good? Eddie, you were incredible. The way you owned that stage.. you had everyone eating out of the palm of your hand."

Eddie leans back into the cushions, his grin softening into something more reflective. "It was a rush, l'll admit. But hearing you say that? That means more than the crowd, you know."

His words catch you off guard and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. The glow from the lamp casts a warm light across his face, highlighting the faint flush in his cheeks, whether from the champagne or your compliment, you're not sure.

"Eddie..." you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't need me to tell you how talented you are. But I'll say it anyway, as many times as you need to hear it.”

He doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Here you were all pretty. Kind heart and more of a lover of his music than himself. He wouldn’t dare call you his biggest fan, a title like that isn’t even worth it for you.

He chuckles a low nervous sound. "You're ridiculous you know that? Saying things like that. It's not fair."

"Not fair?" you tease, leaning in just slightly. "How so?"

His eyes flick to yours and then to your lips, lingering just a second too long. "Because you make it hard to think straight," he admits quietly, almost hesitant as his eyes find their way back to yours.

Your heart skips at his confession, and the air between you shifts. Heavier, warmer, sentimental. You hold his gaze, your breath catching as his words settle between you. There's something in the way he looks at you, something raw and unguarded that pulls you in without warning.

"Maybe you don't need to think straight," you murmur, your voice barely audible. It's more of a dare than a statement and you see the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

Eddie exhales shakily, his fingers flexing against his thigh as if he's holding himself back. He’s always holding himself back. "You don't get it," he says, voice low and tinged with something that sounds a lot like longing. "You... you don't even realize what you do to me."

You lean in just a little closer, your knees brushing as you take in the faint scents of leather, cologne, and Eddie’s post show b.o which in all honesty you didn’t mind much at all.

"Then maybe you should show me," you say softly, a teasing edge to your words but an undeniable sincerity and nervousness in your tone. You only hope he doesn’t get shaken or angry that you would even suggest something so vulgar.

He freezes for a moment, caught between hesitation and desire.

‘Last time she tried to kiss me, she was drunk out of her mind.’

He looks at the champagne. You had only had one mug and so did he. And that look in your eyes.. its the same look you had given him when he gifted you that onyx ring on your birthday. Soft eyes looking into his. Care, love.. yearning.

‘Fuck it.’

The next thing you feel is Eddie’s hands cupping your face and he presses his lips to yours. Very tentative at first, as if he's afraid you might pull away. You nearly shock his brain when he feels your lips press against his own.

Your hands find their way to his cheeks, your fingers brushing the smaller curls at the nape of his neck. His breath hitches and you feel him relax into you, the nervous energy melting away as his lips move against yours, warm and insistent.

Everytime else slowly fades away. Your mind was empty of all of it’s worries. You shitty date, Larry, the stress of losing the store. Eddie was all you could think off. All you could feel, hear, taste.

When he finally pulls back for air his forehead rests against yours, and he gives you a small, almost shy smile.

Eddie's thumb brushes against your cheek and you can feel his breath against your lips, warm and uneven. "You have no idea how long l've wanted to do that," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens and for a moment you can't find your voice. Instead, you let your fingers slip from his curls down to his shoulders, gripping the worn fabric of his shirt.

"Then maybe you shouldn't stop now," you finally manage to spit out, your voice soft but steady as you look into his eyes. You’re relieved to see his are charged with just as much desire as your own.

His eyes widen for a split second before his lips are back on yours, more confident this time. His hands slide down to your waist and he pulls you closer. The world outside the room might as well not exist. Every kiss, every touch feels electric like a current you can't resist.

The kiss deepens and you find yourself straddling his lap, Eddie following instinctively as he carefully pulls you closer by your waist, his hands never leaving you as they splay against your back.

You kiss him and with the smallest tilt of his head you give his curls a gentle tug. He slide his hands down, a bit hesitant before you arch your back, letting his palms rest on your ass. You both part your lips as your tongues finally meet.

He moans as he finally tastes you. He always imagined what you would taste like. He wasn’t far off: vanilla chapstick, the cherry champagne you’d been sipping on and a taste that’s distinctive to you and you only.

You could say the same about him. The feel of Eddie’s lips is foreign but very welcome. They’re slightly chapped yet so warm and the way they lock onto yours is match made. You gasp and a moan falls from your lips when he bucks his hips up, desperately for your touch.

Oh, he’s huge. You always figured so. His swim trunks never hid much and nor did his jeans, especially on nights like tonight. Riled up from a very active and energetic performance, he still had so much more to give. And when you roll your hips down at his bucking, he knew exactly how he’d let off that energy tonight.

He grips the backs of your thighs, lifting you into the air. He taps the denim clad skin in which you take as a sign to wrap your legs around him. He doesn’t break the kiss as he walks you into his bedroom.

Once he sets you down the back of your knees hits the edge of the bed. You pause, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His dark brown eyes search yours, his pupils blown wide with nervous excitement.

He slowly removes his shirt and you reach out and help him, his messy curls falling onto his soft pale skin, the tee falling to the ground. He gently reaches his hands out, hovering over your shirt.

“Can I?” He asks softly, looking into your eyes for any signs of hesitation but he finds none.

“Yeah.” You grin and gently pull him closer by his belt loops.

He smiles and pulls your tee over your head, discarding it to lay right next to his on the floor. His breath hitches and he gently rests his hands on your sides, rubbing at your ribs and down your sides.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

You grin. “Makes two of us.”

The sight before you is mind boggling but definitely worth it. A blushing fool, that’s what he feels like. He lays you onto his bed and crawls over you, his hair tickling your chest, the hills of your breasts peeking from the confines of your bra.

He swallows. “I have some hair ties if the hair’s too much for you.”

“Don’t you ever hide these curls away from me.” You gently rake your fingers in his curls. “I love them, I love this.”

He smile and kisses you again, your hands find rest on his shoulders, rubbing gently as you kiss. It’s as if time isn’t real when he’s with you like this. Every flick of your tongue against his, every gently brush of your tummy against his, every caress of your hands on each other. It was all surreal.

When you tug his curls again he pulls back and pants a bit wildly. He shuts his eyes and you speak softly, a bit confused.

“Are you okay?” You rub his shoulder.

He nods. “Sorry. I’m just..” Incredibly hard. He almost feels embarrassed.

Now is definitely not the time to tell you that he hasn’t had sex in more than over a year. It had just been his right palm, some X rated mags and something he picked up from the Spencer’s after a very long shift. But being with you like this was bound to break him any moment.

He stands up. “I’ve gotta take these jeans off or this is gonna end a lot faster than you want it to.” He unbuckles his jeans, so you start to remove yours as well. He swears you’re trying to kill him when he sees that your panties match your bra. You could see him twitch in his boxers.

“I don’t mind, Eddie.” You sit up, resting back on your elbows for support. “I just need you closer.”

He grins and walks over to his dresser. “So you do want to kill me.”

You laugh. “What are you stalling on me now?”

He digs through his drawer. “So impatient, princess.”

He crawls back over you with the small blue package in hand. He kisses you again before trailing softer ones down your skin. “Just rolling the ball.”

He continues to kiss your skin. Down your chest and onto your tummy until he gets to your panties, kissing the wet spot on them. He moans and shakes his head. He looks up at you a bit in disbelief.

“This all for me?” He lays on his stomach between your legs, gently caressing your thighs as he sets the condom onto the sheets.

You grin with a bite to your lip, knowing how turned on it gets him. “All yours.”

He gently tugs at your panties and you lift your hips to help him. “Oh how you spoil me.”

He nestles his nose to your inner thigh, taking in your scent as he leaves gentle kisses on your skin. He enjoys the way your hand rests gentle over his mop of curls, the way your legs rest over his shoulders, the way you taste. He gives you a kitten lick from your hole all the way up to your clit, letting out a muffled.. “oh.”

When he licks you again you can’t help but arch your back, returning a higher and more pleasure filled ‘oh.’

He’s looks up at you, voice muffled as he refuses to pull away from you. “Like that, baby?”

You moan at the nickname, head flopping back onto his pillows. “Yes, so good Eddie.”

“Wanna stretch you out, get you ready for me, ‘s that okay?”

He says it so sweetly but the intention behind his words get you wetter than ever. “Yes, Eddie.”

You arch your back as he sides in a finger, the cold metal of his ring chilling your folds as he thrusts his finger slowly. When he gets a nice fill of your pretty moans he adds another, starting to trust them.

“Oh fuck, Eddie, I’m not gonna be able to-“

“That’s alright baby, come for me. Want you to.” He curls his fingers and you feel like your brain has went haywire, the coil inside of you snapping sooner than you thought. Your moans turn into whimpers as he twists his fingers a bit, keeping you through the high as your release showers his fingers and lips.

“Eddie!”

He shows down his movements and looks up at your face. He worries he overdid his efforts, but smiles when you pull him up to lay over you.

“That good?” He smiles.

“So good.” You smile, pulling him into a kiss as he shares the taste of you.

“Lay back,” you say to him, “I wanna ride you.”

His eyes widen. “Jeez, sweetheart, you can’t just say anything like that. I’m gonna blow my fucking load.” He chuckles but he isn’t joking. You could see him leaking through his boxers.

“That’s okay.. we’ve got all night.” You both smile and share a kiss, passionate and hungry for more. Eddie could still taste your orgasm on his tongue and that alone made him excited to give you more and more. But he wasn’t going to rush this. You have all night and he’s gonna use it the best he can.

taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust

[obeymefictionwriting]

Brothers on Your Anniversary!

This blog honestly gives me so much life, thank you so much for reading and enjoying it! I hope you'll love this hc as much as I do <3

Lucifer

Lucifer has been planning your anniversary like half a year in advance

Meaning, the guy is C O N F I D E N T

You might think he'd be the type to take you to a fancy restaurant and such but he will actually plan the date according to your specific preferences

Doesn't mean he won't get you a huge-ass bouquet with the rarest Devildom flowers

Is actually pretty nervous since it's his first ever anniversary in a relationship and he is a control freak and want it to be perfect for you

Will kiss your knuckles softly and will then twirl you around, effortlessly spinning you in a smooth dance

Gifts you an intricate and beautiful pendant with his love confession engraved on it

"I'm looking forward to the eternity with you by my side, my love"

Mammon

The day will be 10000000% dedicated to you

Shopping spree, any restaurant you want, any activity you wish to try - just say a word

Holding hands 24/7 everywhere, proudly showing you to literally EVERYONE

"Dat's right, dat's my baby and damn we hit 1 year together!"

Is so proud of you being near him that he almost tears up

Poor boy has never had a relationship and is now determined to keep you forever

At the end of the night, will blush heavily as he wraps his arms around your waist and leans in for a kiss

"I'm s-so happy we are t-together...Thanks for dealing with my dumb ass..."

Levi

Decides to surprise you with a kick-ass 3-course dinner cooked entirely by him, obviously

Is EXTREMELY nervous but tries not to show it

Gets you a matching set of pjs and a super cute necklace

Proposes to watch some anime or movies and secretly hopes you'd say yes, because he doesn't feel like going out and wants to be just the two of you this evening

Holds your hand all the time

Plays with your hair lazily and grins

"Can't believe got a person like you to be my partner"

Satan

Classic romance is his thing

Be sure he'll take you to a small and cozy but ridiculously expensive place

He'll insist you two dress up because "the occasion is so very special"

Out of all brothers, is most likely to propose on your anniversary

After dinner, will probably take you to the nearest park; champagne and blanket ready

(oops, a momentary cat distraction)

Showers you with affection and can't keep his hands and eyes off you

"Kitten, I'm honored to be loved by someone like you"

Asmodeus

Mhmmm an anniversary... so exciting!

Plans out a whole day dedicated just to you two

Spa, fancy dinner, shopping, massage - all included!

It's the first time ever for him to care so much about someone else and he is dedicated to make this day unforgettable

"I have a special something just for you"

RENTS THE WHOLE RESTAURANT TO SLOW-DANCE WITH YOU IN THE CANDLE LIGHT

"Honey, you have immense power over me and I surrender to you now and forever"

Beelzebub

He loves you so much that he actually wants to make it NOT about food

The things is, he has no idea what else to do... like... sports, maybe?

You notice how tensed he is and directly ask what's up

Reluctantly agrees to your offer to just eat somewhere and then cuddle home with snacks

"I tried to think of something unique because you deserve the best"

Wraps his hands around you and won't let go

Offers you head massage and just uses any excuse to touch you

"Y'know... You are my dearest person"

Belphie

Actually MAKES AN EFFORT

An attic, stargazing, a bottle of wine, and amazing fruits and sweets - just how good does it sound?

Presents you with a photo album filled with your mutual photos; a sweet note going with every photo

"You made my life full of memories that I'd cherish forever"

Kisses you softly all the time and braids your hair delicately

Loves this moment of peace and happiness but is a teeny tiny bit worried you might have preferred something more outdoorsy

"Just stay with me always, okay?"

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

ride down the memory lane

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader (other idols mentioned as friends)

au: childhood rivals to lovers

genre: smut, comedy - minors dni.

warnings: food, alcohol, mentions of physical injuries and a bit of reckless driving, semi-public sex, fingering, making out.

word count: 2.9k

synopsis: one thing you will never forget from your childhood is the bicycle races around your neighborhood against a certain boy who always lost to you. fifteen years later and in the big city, that same boy isn't a boy anymore and he knows how to ride more than a child's bicycle.

Author's note: hi everyone! this is my entry for the lonely hearts cafe collab hosted by @camandemstudios! i hope you will enjoy reading this fic, along with all the amazing entries from the rest of the participants💕

taglist: @gyuguys @aliceu @listxn @svtwhinyc17 @woozixo @wonranghaeee @cookiearmy @haosheaven @kyeomiis @sebongica

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2025. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Seoul City, today.

There’s music echoing in your room, the upbeat song matching your good mood. You’re applying your makeup with careful motions, wanting nothing more than a perfect result that compliments your outfit.

The occasion is obviously a joyous one - you’re reuniting with your college classmates five years after your graduation. While you have kept in touch with most of them, living in different cities and countries was the main obstacle of not being able to see them in person.

But today, nobody and nothing will stop you from enjoying your time with them.

The music playing through your phone is suddenly cut off due to an incoming call and you let out a dissatisfied groan when you see one of your friend’s ID on the screen.

“Can’t believe you called while the best part was playing!” You answer the call.

“You and your addiction to music,” Chaewon sighs, “Are you done with makeup?”

“Almost there, just adding glitter.”

“Girl, relax, it’s not New Year’s eve!”

“I don’t care, Chae, glitter and I are in a long term relationship.”

“Ugh, fine. I knew I couldn’t convince you either way.”

“Did you call me just to ask me for my makeup though?”

“No, I called you to let you know that Joshua is going to bring a friend of his tonight with us.”

“Oh okay. Uh, do we know the guy?”

“I haven’t met him in person, all I know is that his name is Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan? It’s been a long time since you last heard that name.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

“Yeah, I hear you. The guy’s name is Jeonghan.”

“Do you have a problem with Joshua bringing him along? Because you stayed silent for a moment there.”

“Oh no, I have no issue! I just….happened to remember someone who has the same name,” you laugh awkwardly, “Probably just a coincidence.”

“Okay cool! See you soon, love!”

You arrive in front of the bar, your lips forming a huge grin once you spot your friends outside the door.

“Ay, there she is!” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Hi Hyune- What happened to your hair?!” You gasp.

“Oh, this?” He runs his hand over his barely hair covered head, “Just a spur of the moment thing.”

“A spur of the moment that gave us a damn heart attack.” Jihyo sighs audibly, 

“Rest in peace, long haired Hyunjin, you'll be dearly missed.” You put your palms together as if you were paying respects and Hyunjin playfully shoves you.

“Where are Joshua and his friend?” Chaewon asks.

“Joshua texted me a couple of minutes ago and said they'll be late, we can go grab a table inside and save two seats for them.” Jihyo responds.

“Awesome, I didn't want to wait in the cold anyways.” You grin.

You walk through the doors of the bar and Jihyo goes to one of the waiters, who in turn guides you to a table big enough to fit the entire group, along with the two who aren't there yet.

You make yourselves comfortable around the table, checking the menu for drinks and possibly some finger food for funsies.

“Alcohol for everyone, I suppose?” Jihyo speaks as she closes the catalog in her hands.

“Damn right,” Hyunjin agrees enthusiastically, “The week was tough.”

“Yeah, because getting your makeup and outfits done by others is so tiring, right?” Chaewon mocks him, but the man flips her off with ease.

Amidst the bickering, you spot Joshua and his friend walking through the door and you wave to let them know your location in the bar.

“Oh, they’re coming!” Chaewon scoots closer to you to make room for the boys.

“Hello everyone!” Joshua greets all of you with a smile, “Sorry we’re late, traffic was kinda annoying.”

“You weren’t even the one driving and you’re complaining about traffic?” The other man speaks up.

“You must be Jeonghan, right?” Jihyo asks with interest, “I’m Jihyo, nice to meet you. The bald one is Hyunjin-”

“Fuck you.” Hyunjin cuts her off.

“Whatever. The lady with the cunty bob is Chaewon-”

“Hi!” Chaewon waves cutely.

“And finally the lady with the glitter all over her face is-”

As soon as you make a double take on the man with the black leather jacket, your throat runs dry and cold sweat coats your skin.

You should have listened to your gut feeling when Chaewon called you before you left the house.

“Y/N L/N?” Jeonghan looks at you with a curious smirk.

“Yoon Jeonghan.” 

The rest of the group exchange dumbfounded glances. 

“You….know each other?” Hyunjin asks.

“That’s right,” Jeonghan crosses his legs in a deliberately slow manner, “Way too well, if I dare say so.”

“Why aren’t you speaking?!” Chaewon nudges you repeatedly.

“Yeah we have known each other since childhood. Are you satisfied now?” You huff in annoyance.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” Jeonghan raises his brow defiantly, “I don’t think it’s nice to keep your friends in the dark.”

“Can you not use wording that makes everything sound weird?” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Are you guys exes or something?” Hyunjin points at the two of you.

“NO!” You loudly defend yourself.

“That just made it even more suspicious…”

“Aside from her exaggerated reaction, Y/N is telling the truth. We were sort of…. childhood rivals.” Jeonghan explains calmly.

“Sort of? You couldn’t win against me for your life.” You click your tongue.

“Pause for a sec,” Joshua intervenes, “Win against you, in what exactly? And how long ago are we even talking about here?”

“Bicycle races, about fifteen years ago,” You respond dryly, “Spoiler alert - he was fucking terrible.”

“Kinda hard to believe, since he rides a motorbike…” Chaewon comments and you shoot her a disapproving look.

“We all have to start from somewhere, Chaewon,” Jeonghan leans back on his chair, “Even if it involves bruised knees and a boy’s battered ego.”

The waiter soon arrives with everyone’s orders

“Drinking a cocktail while knowing you’re gonna drive later? You’re asking for your license to be taken away.” 

“It’s a virgin cocktail,” Jeonghan takes a sip from his glass, “I enjoy the thrill of riding a bike, but I’m not stupid enough to challenge the law.”

“Whatever.”

“Now then. I think it’s time for a little old story.”

Fifteen years ago…

“Haha! I win again!” You jump up triumphantly on the road side.

“Shut up! You cheated this time, I’m sure of it!” Jeonghan points at you, accusing you of cheating once more.

“It's not cheating if I'm better than you!” You stick your tongue out to mock the boy.

“One day, I'll be rich and I'll ride the coolest bike ever and you'll see then!” He gets up from the ground and grabs his bicycle to leave.

As soon as he sits on the saddle and tries to pedal away, he loses his balance and falls down on the asphalt.

“Ow!” He yelps again, tears filling up his eyes.

“Hmph, can't even keep your balance.” You mock him again.

Jeonghan starts crying loudly and you're about to call him a crybaby again, but you notice his bleeding knee, your face turning pale from fear. 

“Jeonghan!” You run towards him.

“Stay away from me, you meanie!” He flinches away from you.

“Hannie, you're hurt! Give me your hand so I can help you stand up!”

“Never! I would rather die!” He yells at you with tears on his cheeks 

“Urgh, just give me your hand! My house is just around the corner.”

The boy looks at you for a moment and then reluctantly gives you his hand to help him stand up.

You throw his arm around your shoulders and he manages to balance himself on his other leg.

“You shouldn't be helping me.” He sniffles.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we're rivals, you dummy.”

“I know. But you're the only one who can match me and if you're hurt, who will be able to race against me?”

Jeonghan ponders for a moment, but he’s unable to give a good answer.

“See? You can’t think of anyone else! I'm the best in the entire neighborhood.”

“Just you wait, I’ll get better and I’ll make you eat my dust.”

“It’s a deal!” You grin.

“By the way, are we there yet?”

“We’ll make it in no time, promise! Mom made ice cream yesterday, by the way.”

“Strawberry?”

“Always!”

“I expected petty children’s drama, not this cutesy stuff,” Jihyo rests her chin on her hand, “Not that I complain, of course.”

“Yeah, it was all fun and games back then.” Jeonghan comments with a dreamy tone.

“Y/N sounded kinda like a bully though.” Chaewon side eyes you.

“Not my fault he was crying every single time he lost,” you snort into your cocktail glass, “Oh right, that was every Sunday.”

“Trust me, if we were to race now, you'd eat dirt, angel.” Jeonghan smirks.

“No thanks, I don't plan on risking my life riding a motorbike like a maniac.”

“True, he does ride like a maniac when the highway is empty.” Joshua validates your comment.

“Whose side are you on, exactly?” Jeonghan narrows his eyes towards his friend.

“Mine, obviously.” 

“Joshua Hong, ever the shit instigator.” Jihyo rolls her eyes dramatically.

“You love me so much.”

“Sadly, I do!”

The group erupts in laughter and the conversation continues into less relevant topics. Small talk goes on amongst your friends, but your focus is solely on Jeonghan.

Even if you're aware of the years that have passed since you last saw him, you can't help but ogle over how fucking good he looks now.

His gaze meets yours and your eyes shoot up in surprise, caught red-handed like a criminal. But all he does is shoot you a sly smirk.

“Um, I think I'll go to the restrooms for a bit.” you announce all of a sudden.

“You okay? You seem a little out of it.” Hyunjin gently holds your hand out of concern.

“Dude, it's nothing! I just need to pee, jeez.”

“Girl ew, no need to give us the details!” Chaewon scrunches her face in disgust.

You mirror her expression and leave the table, making a beeline for the restrooms.

As soon as you walk into one of the empty cabins, you lock the door shut and sit down, head resting in your hands.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you curse under your breath, “Why him? Why after so many years?” 

You slap your cheek to snap yourself back to reality and unlock the restroom door, needing to wash your hands and throw some water on your neck to calm yourself down.

“Didn’t expect you to be so affected by my arrival.” 

You scream in surprise and you turn around to see Jeonghan leaning against the doorframe of the restroom entrance.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I’m here to take a piss.” He smirks.

“Wrong restrooms, idiot. Didn’t you see the sign outside the door?” You scoff.

“That’s what I told the others when they asked me,” he walks towards you, “Doesn’t mean I actually wanted to do that.”

Jeonghan now stands right in front of you, his face barely a few centimeters away from yours.

“Time really has its favorites, huh.” He twirls one of your hair strands around his finger.

“What are you talking about?” You ask him, not stopping him from whatever he’s doing.

“I mean that you’ve grown into one damn fine beauty, Y/N.”

You bite your bottom lip, mentally giving up on playing hard to get.

You tug him back into the restroom cabin and lock the door, pushing him against the door.

“I could say the same about you, mister hot rider.” You reciprocate the compliment and kiss him without delay. 

It doesn’t take Jeonghan long to snake his hands right under your ass and lift you up, switching the positions to pin you against the metal door this time.

“Been wanting to do that ever since I sat across you,” he whispers on your lips, “And much more than that.”

“I’m right here, Hannie.” You purr the nickname on purpose, hoping to get a reaction from him.

“I used to hate that stupid nickname,” he traces his nose over the juncture between your neck and shoulder, “But this…grown up voice of yours makes it sound so hot.”

“Good,” you bury your fingers in his black hair and get a hold of it, “Now would you mind putting your grown up hands into better use?”

Jeonghan instantly gets the memo and puts one of your legs down to free his dominant hand. You keep his mouth busy with your tongue, all while his nimble fingers slither under your panties and make contact with your soaked pussy.

“You had to bear with this all night long?” 

“It was fine until you sat on the couch across from me.”

“No, it was bored to death until I sat across from you.” He chuckles as he plunges one finger inside you.

It takes whatever little sanity you have left in you to not moan out loud and let your eyes roll back in your skull, as his finger thrusts in and out of you, your juices starting to drip down his knuckles.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” He murmurs against your skin.

“So fucking good, God.” You reply with a shaky voice.

“Want another one?”

“Pretty fucking please.”

Jeonghan listens to your pleas and slides another finger, but this time, a moan slips past your lips.

“Stay quiet, you idiot.”

“You're making it real hard, dumbass.” You hiss at him.

“Fine.” He deadpans and takes away his fingers, making you gasp at the sudden loss.

“What are you doing?!”

“Making your life easier,” he smirks, “Are you satisfied?”

“Of course not!” You slap his chest in protest.

“Oh shut up,” he puts you down, “It’s not like I wanted to make you cum in a fucking public space.”

“You almost did. And it’s not like we had any choice right now.”

“We could always head back to your place? Or mine?”

His suggestion catches you off guard.

“I mean, if that’s what you want as well,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I…don’t want you to push or anything.”

“Do you have a spare helmet?” You ask with determination in your eyes.

“What?”

“I said - Do you have a spare helmet?” 

“Yeah, always.”

“Can I borrow it then?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to ride on bikes?”

“I can always make an exception. Besides, I’ll tell you the way to my place.”

Jeonghan sucks his fingers clean and you cut a few pieces of toilet paper to clean yourself up and fix your appearance.

“Shall we, then?”

You unlock the door and push it wide open, with Jeonghan quickly washing his hands.

“Won’t it be rude to leave just like that?” You wonder out loud.

“Are you seriously thinking about that right now?” He looks at you with an unamused expression.

“I thought I’d try to show some remorse.”

“Don’t do it if you feel like it, Y/N.” He grins like an imp.

The two of you check the corridor to see any passing people and to your luck, it’s empty. You both almost make a run for it.

Meanwhile, the group at the table sees the two of you from afar, suspicions arising quickly.

“They were gone for quite a while…” Chaewon tilts his head sideways.

“Bet fifty bucks they fucked in the restrooms.” Joshua snickers.

“Make it a hundred.” Jihyo crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Shh, they’re coming!” Hyunjin signals and they all fall silent.

“Shua, hand me the helmet.” Jeonghan pats his friend’s shoulder

“Uh, why?”

“I’m taking Y/N home, she’s not feeling very well.”

“You’re gonna take her home….On your bike?” Jihyo raises her eyebrow.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry!” You quickly defend him.

“Wait, if you take Y/N home, how will I get home?!” Joshua further questions his friend.

“Get a cab, you have money.” Jeonghan replies as he takes back both helmets and hands you one.

“Oh, here’s the money for our drinks, by the way,” you leave a couple of bills on the table, “Sorry for the sudden change, hope you guys have fun without us!”

“Stay safe.” Jihyo reminds you with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Will do.” Jeonghan responds as he ushers you towards the exit of the bar.

You pass through the doors of the bar and walk to his motorbike, your eyes wandering over the sleek silhouette of the vehicle.

“Like what you see?” Jeonghan breaks you from your trance.

“It’s so….You look so good on it, Hannie.”

“I know,” he fastens the helmet on his head, “And you’ll look just as good as my passenger princess.”

The nickname makes your heart jump in your chest and you put on the helmet, locking it under your chin. You sit on the bike right behind Jeonghan, trying to make yourself comfortable and he doesn’t hesitate to grab your arms and put them around his waist.

“Don’t hesitate to lean on me!” He shouts through the helmet as he revs up the engine.

“I won’t!” You shout back.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

“Good. Because riding bikes isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He shouts again.

You grin behind the visor as you follow Jeonghan’s previous advice.

“I could say the same about myself.”

[renren-006]

Emporor Lucius | Lucius Verus x fem reader

plot: old friends and Lucius coming back into your life as the emperor after being a gladiator. (has a tad bit of similar plot to my other story)

a/n: i wanted another old freinds to lovers story so here it is! please enjoy! let me know of any other story ideas! also thank you so much for the love on my first lucius story> Familiar eyes

The halls of the emperors glowed in the sunlight. They came through the windows and open archways, spilling golden rays onto the marble flooring. Lucius walked the halls like he had done for the past few days, bathing in the light and the revelations of power. He never wanted to be here again, in this position, yet here he was. The events after his fight in Rime and the killing of Macranis led to the people wanting him in power to have a slower position of power in the senate. The issues with the Senate were evident, and Lucius had to fix them before he could trust the people. 

His head hung low as he walked towards those inner gardens. He watched from the corner of the open room as you strolled in. You were doing your duties like you had for the last 20 years, tending to the gardens and animals and small, tedious things that needed care. You knew a new emperor was in the place now, but you had not met him. Lucius purposefully kept it that way once he knew you were still where he had left you. Your life had always been to serve, and Lucious was just happy you had not been harmed. You had the same spirit and carefree smile as he remembered. He left before you could even see his shadow.

You turned once you heard the shuffling of feet, yet Lucius had already gone. The other maids and servants in the palace didn't speak of the new emperor, leaving you wondering who exactly roamed these halls. Since childhood, you had seen many people come and go from these halls; this time, you hoped whoever it was had a kind soul. Those days of your youth were always filled with smiles, running around these exact gardens and through the halls playing with the prince of Rome. How far off those memories felt now, a feeling of emptiness surrounded you again, the suffocating feeling of knowing you'll never be that child and that boy won't be the cause of your smiles anymore. You stood fast, breathing slowly. “Damn you, Lucius,” you spoke before you grabbed your things and left to do another job far from the gardens. 

Lucius plans to prevent you from working for a few weeks, but he can't control everything. It was another day of him roaming the halls and venturing into the gardens. However, this time, you had become more aware of the presence of someone while you were there. As you tended to the flowers in the center bed, you spoke up.

“You know it is creepy to stand in the shadow and watch a girl work,” you said to the air. You waited a while before he stepped further into the room.

“My apologies,” he spoke. The words he said sent shivers down your spine; the embers of something familiar filled your stomach. You turned slowly to see a man standing in a white tunic and many Roman emblems adorning his chest.

“I did not realize you were the emperor,” you said, shocked. “I should not have spoken the way I did”

“No, you had a right I was…I have been standing in these dark corners while you work,” he told you honestly, “Only fair you figured it out”

“Still, I spoke rather harshly,” you told him. As he ventured further into the room, you stood slightly, realizing there was a slight height difference between the two of you. While the revelation was fleeting, one of the most essential things caught your eye. Those eyes that looked towards you stuck another ember of familiarity. “I…have I met you before?”

“You always were too smart for your own good,” he said, laughing a little. “Me and my theatrics of keeping out of your way were pointless if you were to realize who I was anyways”

“You can not be,” you said, walking closer to the man before you. “Lucius?” “Hello, my darling,” he answered. Tears were fast to fall from your eyes as you threw yourself into his arms. The man you thought was dead stood here in your presence once more. Older, wiser, and more handsome than that little boy you knew. 

“Your back,” you said in his arms. He held you close, letting you hold him. You pulled back and looked up at him. “And you grew”

“That was the first thing you noticed?” “No,” you answered horribly. Lucius laughed, knowing you were lying. He nodded his head and stood tall for you. “I can not believe you came back”

“Not my original plan…” he told you, “Had other plans to leave Rome, but it seems I am needed.”

“Hm. Guess we all dream of leaving at one point or another,” you told him. “That was you, right? The gladiator that caused a stir from the people?” “Guilty,” he spoke, “I am like my father in that way.” “Seems your wish of finding out who your father was came true…Maximus," Lucius humped while looking towards the sky above you. You looked u,p seeing some clouds rolling in. “Let us head inside”

Those following weeks or months were filled with Lucius joining you in your morning routine of tending to the garden. Always brings a new story of his life away to tell you, filling your time in the garden with a magical life. Some stories were sad, but you knew he did what he could to tell them to overcome the grief. Lucius found a way to make your simple life filled with life and meaning. He sparked those embers in you that you desperately hoped could be fueled. You looked forward to those moments spent with him, making your day go by and making you excited for the next day to see him again. As more and more time went by, Lucius joined you for other tasks. It was joyous having him around, but sometimes you forgot about your job in favor of admiring the man before you and listening to whatever story about himself or Rome he was telling you. Sometimes, he would find you after senate meetings just to talk to you about how conniving the men in the room are. 

“They undermine me, and whatever I say, some of them look as if my words mean nothing,” he told you as you were in the library working on the catalog. “They…they even insist I must marry to secure Rome even further,” you nodded along.

“Maybe you should,” you spoke absently, “Look at how the emperors did when they did not marry, especially the brothers. Security for Rome is not a bad thing, Lucius.”  The silence after your words grew so intolerable that you were forced to put the book down and look behind you. Lucius' eyes were already in yours. “I say something to upset you? I truly did not mean to”

“Marry me.” Lucious' words did not fully register to you until you had the entire stack of books fall from the table behind you. Somehow, you had stepped back at his words and caused the table to shake. 

“Lucius”

“I am thinking rationally before you tell me I am not,” he said. A few moments passed as he tried to gather his words. “I have come to realize I can not live without you in my life anymore, I need you, y/n”

“Lucius,” you warned, “You realize I have no…prospects. I am nothing in the eyes of the empire; I am a maid to the palace.” “You think I care what Rome thinks of you. I do not. My thoughts and feelings are the only ones that matter,” he told you, stepping closer to you and finally able to grab your hand. “I have not felt love and comfort until I was with you again.”

“I am scared if you choose me, you will realize there are better women to marry.” “Lies,” he said smiling, “You are the only woman in Rome for me.” he leaned down to you, inching closer and closer to you. You stalled momentarily before closing the space, meeting his lips with yours. Those embers inside you turned into a fire. He was for you, and you for him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you're not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU -- plus!reader)

Note: yeah...

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

This isn’t where you pictured yourself. Even as a cynic, it’s not a job you would aspire too. You’re realistic. Practical. You do what needs to be done. And you suppose, at the end of the day, that’s all this is. Cleaning is rarely enjoyable but it needs to be done. 

You have your kit. The agency gave that to you for a $30 fee. Wonderful, you get to pay for supplies. Business is business. Just another way of the world. The bucket is weighed down by the cleaners, the sponges, clothes, etc. The vacuum is a rental and weighs down your trunk with the broom and mop from your own apartment. You’re not buying a whole new set just for this. They’ll do the job. 

You can settle for that. For what will do. For the bare minimum. Life has been a lot of that. You’re not the only one living that way so why feel sorry for yourself. Get through it, get over it. 

The map on your phone leads you to the address. It’s a big place. One of those high-end townhouses. Not new but renovated. Protected by some city ordinance for ‘historical preservation’. Under that, they sell for nothing less than two million. Yep, you expect that. Logic and practicality are easy bedmates. 

You park and feed the meter. Again, paying to make money. The world runs on money. Put in a little and hope for a few cents to get you by. 

You get out and grab your bucket. You'll come back for the rest when you need them. Zuli, the woman who went over the expectations with you assured you that most clients are away during a service call. They don’t like mingling with the help. If they are around, you likely won’t see them. Or they won’t acknowledge you. 

You can suck up your pride. It’s that city mindset. When you’re on the subway, you keep your head down, you don’t make eye contact. If you hadn’t taken this damned job, you wouldn’t be slogging through New York traffic in the company pinto. A job is a job, money is money, everything is simple if you just parse down your expectations. 

You climb the front steps and as you go to ring the doorbell, a lens built in to protect the overpriced property, the door opens. You retract your hand in surprise. Bad timing? 

The man that greets you is tall and blond. He wears a button up; brown plaid, and khakis. He looks like a cut-out husband from a 1950s advertisement for laundry soap. ‘Give your a fresh scent’ or whatever. 

 Strangely, he also tweaks your memory. Do you know him from somewhere? That’s not possible. You don’t know anyone you’re not forced to know. 

“Mister...” You lift your phone and check the app. “...Rogers.” 

Oh, right. Steve Rogers. You thought it was a coincidence. It can’t be a very uncommon name. You really didn’t anticipate the Captain America opening the door, even in Brooklyn. 

“You must be...” he says your name with a smile. “You can just call me Steve.” 

He holds out his hand. You look at it and stiffly set down the kit. You shake it, out of courtesy. Just your luck. You get one that wants to chat. 

“I’ll give you the tour,” he squeezes your hand firmly before he lets go. “You can get the lay of the land.” 

Another false promise. You should be used to those by now. Those written directions Zuli mentioned are out the window. You get the full curated walk through. 

“Thanks,” you nod and bend your knees. 

He’s quicker than you. Stronger too. Obviously. But the way he easily scoops up the bucket, it’s like he’s picking up no more than a pillow. The act adds to the hint of mortification in prickling behind your ears. Here you are, in sweats and a bandana, in a nice neighbourhood, and now you’re faced with the primped and pristine golden boy. 

He backs up and gestures you inside, the bottle of bleach wiggling in the bucket. You enter and stop on the matter. You slip out of your shoes as he shuts the door. He turns, coming close, close enough that his warm radiates through the back of your hoodie. 

“You can hang up your sweater,” he reaches to tap a peg on the coat rack mounted on the wall. 

“Sure,” you unzip the hoodie and hang it. 

The house is nice. Organized. You wonder why he needs a maid but then again, you suppose even if he can do it himself, he might not want to. Or have the time. How much leisure does he have when he isn’t saving the world. 

It’s a pretty standard layout. You’ve seen homes with a similar floor plan by the fixtures are loose and corroded and the floorboards splintered. Nice places, just aged. Owned by those who can’t afford hired help. 

You notice a few original pieces, restored, but emblazoned with the patent that demarcates them as turn of the twentieth century. Almost as old as the man leading you around. You go through the first floor, the second floor, and come back down. 

“So, I’ll be around here and there. I don’t really have a solid schedule but I’ll try to have you come in around the same time, make it easy on you,” he explains. He has a hand on his hip as he gestures with the other; like he’s ordering around his soldiers, rather, his avengers. 

“Right,” you nod again.  

Taking orders isn’t that hard. They remind you of someone else but they’re not difficult. It’s harder when you don’t know what others want. When disappointing them is easy. 

“Any questions?” He asks. 

“No,” you shake your head. You stand awkwardly, waiting. You clear your throat. “I can take that.” 

You reach for the kit and he flinches as he looks down. He chuckles, “oh, oh yeah. Heavy. Let me know where to put it. I’ll save you the pulled muscle.” 

“Really, I can handle it,” you grab the handle, next to his hand. He resists for a moment then lets you take it. He could keep it from you if he wanted. That thought is something else. This man is powerful in more ways than one. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, and whatever you need, water or whatever, let me know,” he offers as he slides one heel back. “I’m up in my office today so you can do that last.” 

“Makes sense,” you accept and turn away.  

Kitchen first, that’s the most tedious. 

[nemesis-writer]

Training Wheels

Masterlist TW: neglect, but mostly fluff

Ridin' down, ridin' down My hand on your seat the whole way round I carry Band-Aids on me now For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground Wheels aren't even touchin' the ground Scared to take them off, but they're so worn down Promise I won't push you straight to the dirt If you promise me you'll take them off first

'Come on Jon, hurry up we're almost there.'

You remember the time when you first saw Jon when he was playing games with Damian. Let's face it, you were downright in love with him, you didn't really knew how to deal with it since you've been deprived of that since birth.

You've always thought of him as a night in shining armor. He'd always bring you gifts in your birthday, sometimes give you books to read when you're bored. But it was satisfying for now.

I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you

There's no doubt in the world that you love him. You'd laugh together, sometimes take you to the movies, and even invite you to his farm for lunch during recess. But you, you loved him, you wanted to stick with him forever and didn't want anyone to ruin the moment.

Some might say you're stupid for relying on a boy who is friends with the very people who've neglected and abandoned you. But no one can stand on the way of love right?

Lettin' go, lettin' go Tellin' you things you already know I explode, I explode Askin' you where you want us to go You've been ridin' two-wheelers all your life It's not like I'm askin' to be your wife I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say Is this comin' off in a cheesy way?

You loved the fact that he is dating you, but you'd never know if he felt the same way. So far in your relationship it's based on wishful thinking. Who's to judge a now-legal adult for being in a relationship with a person she's been head over heels for?

But what you didn't know was that Jon truly love you and cherish your memories together. He even has his own job where he can afford a 10 karat princess-cut sapphire ring. (Also thanks from stealing Conner's money.) He prepared your guys future together as parents, while you were prepared to let him go with the assumption that he doesn't love you.

I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you

You'd be surprised with how much he has prepared for your future together.

Damian, on the other hand, paid no mind to you, and failed to notice Jon's past attempts into dating you. He remains completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend is dating the girl that no one would bat an eye for.

10 years later...

Your wedding was completely peaceful since it was held in a small chapel in Metropolis. Only the Kents including Alfred and some trusted friends were invited to the party. And by trusted friends you meant the whole damn Justice League without the bats.

'I Y/N take Jon as my lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'

'I Jon take Y/N as my lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'

Cheers could be heard even from outside the chapel. But the bats never truly knew why the whole League didn't attend the meeting and instead called in sick, out of planet, or family issues.

It was only until they saw in the news:

'MS, or should I say MRS WAYNE KENT JUST GOT MARRIED AND THE WHOLE WAYNE FAMILY DIDN'T ATTEND!'

A/N: this was actually one of my favorites of Crybaby

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire