#didn’t think too hard about cleaning it up

[digitaldaydreamm]

unspoken claim

rafe cameron x childhood friend!reader

| summary | your regular night routine

warnings: rafe curses once lol

masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

You didn’t know how it happened—how you always ended up at Tannyhill. It just did.

The evening had settled in by the time you threw yourself onto the well-worn couch in the Camerons’ living room. Rafe was in the kitchen, grabbing snacks you knew would inevitably consist of junk food.

“Don’t touch the remote!” he yelled from the other room.

You didn’t listen. You flipped to your favorite reality show, grinning to yourself as the theme music started up.

Rafe returned a second later, arms full of bags of chips and cans of soda. He glanced at the screen, rolled his eyes, and dropped onto the couch next to you—close enough that his arm brushed yours.

“Seriously?” he muttered, already half a chip in his mouth. “This shit again?”

“You love it,” you said, nudging his knee with yours.

He didn’t argue. Instead, he stretched an arm across the back of the couch, right behind where you sat. You could feel the weight of his hand against your shoulder without him even touching you.

It was strange, the way you could be here—just friends—and not think too hard about the proximity. It had always been like that with Rafe. You didn’t remember when it started, or when it stopped feeling odd. It just was.

“Hey,” he said, interrupting your thoughts.

You turned, only to find him holding his hand out to you.

“Gimme the remote.”

“No.”

“Kid.” His voice dropped just enough to sound like a warning.

You smirked, clutching the remote to your chest. “You’re gonna have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands.”

Rafe leaned in closer then, his face just inches from yours, that teasing smirk pulling at his lips. “Don’t tempt me.”

It was stupid—so stupid how easily he could fluster you, even when he wasn’t trying.

You didn’t remember when it got so late, or when the bags of chips were emptied and the soda cans scattered across the coffee table. But eventually, the lights dimmed, the reality show had ended, and Rafe was lying with his feet propped up on the far arm of the couch while you curled up in the corner with your knees pulled to your chest.

Sleepovers with Rafe happened often enough that they didn’t require much thought. You stayed here so often you had your own drawer in the guest room—or you would if you didn’t always end up stealing Rafe’s shirts and sleeping in his room instead.

“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice low and soft as he nudged you gently with his foot. “You’re gonna fall asleep here.”

“I’m comfortable,” you mumbled, but you were already yawning.

Rafe didn’t give you the option to argue. He got up, grabbed your arm, and pulled you off the couch despite your half-hearted protests.

You followed him upstairs, rubbing at your eyes, too tired to care how automatic this routine felt—like you belonged here just as much as he did.

When you stepped into Rafe’s room, you headed straight for the bathroom without needing to ask. Your toothbrush was still in its place next to his in the en-suite, and a clean T-shirt (probably his) was folded neatly on the counter.

You changed without thinking twice, slipping the oversized shirt over your head before padding barefoot back into his room. Rafe was already sprawled out on his bed, one arm tucked under his head as he watched you settle on the opposite side.

He didn’t say anything.

The silence was familiar—comfortable as you curled up beneath the blanket. You could feel his gaze lingering on you just for a second before he reached over and turned out the lamp on his nightstand.

“Night, bub,” he muttered.

“Night, Rafe.”

And somehow, it wasn’t strange to be here—sleeping in his bed, his T-shirt hanging loosely around your frame, like you hadn’t both accidentally stumbled into this routine years ago and forgotten to question it.

You didn’t question it now, either.

Because Rafe Cameron never needed to say you were his.

He just showed you.

~

[jburrgf]

About You — The Series.

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

◦pairing: ¡lsu joe burrow! x ¡ex situashionship reader!

◦summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

◦description: you and joe had a thing months before, but the things ended in a bad way. now, you see yourself stuck in something that requires you to be close to him every single day.

◦playlist: About You, Love Me Like You Do, Like Real People Do, I Bet You Think About Me, Called You Again, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean

PART ONE: CLEAN.

There are certain moments in life that seem impossible to forget. The second I walked onto LSU’s campus, I knew my life was about to change. But not just because of the classes, the social scene, or the crazy football culture.

When I started in LSU, it was supposed to be a clean slate. A chance to focus on my career path and prove to myself that I could thrive in a bigger pond, surrounded by people just as driven as me. Advertising and Public Relations wasn’t just a degree—it was a strategy. A way to blend my creative instincts with a business-minded edge.

What I didn’t expect was LSU’s football program to be the centerpiece of everything.

LSU football wasn’t just a sport. It was culture, identity, and religion rolled into one. By my second semester, I was interning with the athletic department, brainstorming marketing campaigns and filming promos for the team. I was good at what I did—so good that I convinced myself it didn’t bother me when my work bled into my personal life.

Everything started to go wrong when I met him. Tall, blond, American aesthetic, and so, but so kind. That was Joe Burrow, the youngest transferred from Ohio State to the south. New just like me.

Joe was Joe —calm, collected, and infuriatingly charming. He wasn’t flashy like some of the other players, but the air shifted when he walked into a room. Everyone noticed him. And the first time we crossed paths, I did too.

We met my junior year at a party, back when he was just Joe—a talented quarterback with a quiet intensity and a way of looking at you like he could see straight through every mask you’d ever worn. I hadn’t planned on noticing him, but it was impossible not to.

And since then, I'm haunted by his face, his smile, his smell, his body. Every little thing that made him Joe, it was inside my head like a bad song that you can’t stop singing. I didn’t want that, not in the beginning.

And now, I'm running from him like the plague. Every place he might be, I'm not going. Every little encounter or party, or dinner, or what else, I wasn’t going.

It was a party I didn’t want to go to. Maddie had been bothering me for weeks to go to this party, and honestly, I didn't feel like going. Simply no desire.

"I'm serious, Y/N. You work too hard," Maddie, my best friend at LSU, said to me. We had just left one of our classes together, and were walking around the campus, heading towards Maddie's car. "You're missing the entire college experience."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m here to build my career, not get drunk at frat houses.”

“Even Beyoncé has to relax,” she shot back. “I’m picking you up at eight, tomorro, no excuses. But now, we’re going to Malone’s.”

[…]

I didn’t want to be here.

Malone’s was Maddie’s favorite spot, a college-town bar where everyone gathered on weekends to drink, laugh, and pretend their responsibilities didn’t exist. It was the kind of place where the sticky floors were part of the charm, and you couldn’t walk two feet without bumping into someone you knew. Normally, I’d avoid it like the plague—especially on a night like tonight, when Maddie’s sole mission was to convince me to go to that stupid party tomorrow.

“You’re being dramatic,” Maddie said as I slid into the booth across from her, the sound of the bar’s chatter and faint music drowning out half her words. “It’s just one party. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I rolled my eyes, pulling my coat tighter around me despite the warmth of the bar. “You say that like you don’t know me. I don’t do frat parties, Maddie. I don’t want to spend my Saturday night elbow-to-elbow with drunk people I barely know.”

“That’s the fun of it,” she countered, her grin far too smug for my liking.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, reaching for the drink she’d already ordered for me.

“I’m persistent,” she corrected. “And don’t think I didn't notice that you didn’t actually say no.”

I groaned, leaning back in the booth. Maddie had been trying to drag me to this party for days, claiming it was some can’t-miss event that would somehow make my life infinitely better. I wasn’t convinced, but I’d stopped arguing because, frankly, I didn’t have the energy.

I was checking on the bar from above my shoulders when It happened.

Joe Burrow.

The last person I ever expected to see here, especially tonight.

My chest tightened the moment I spotted him standing by the dartboard, his tall frame impossible to miss, his blond hair was slightly disheveled, and the faint scruff on his jaw made him look older than he had when we’d last spoken. Joe was dressed casually, jeans and a hoodie, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, and was laughing at something one of his friends said, the sound cutting through the low hum of the bar like a knife.It wasn’t just the way he carried himself or the fact that he was Joe Burrow—LSU’s star quarterback—but the way my body reacted, as if it had its own memory of him.

I hadn’t seen him in months—not since we’d ended things without really ending them. And now, seeing him here, so casually present in my space, felt like a slap to the face. Work Out from J Cole was playing, and everything felt like a movie scene.

It wasn’t like we had history. At least not in the way most people assumed. We barely knew each other. But there had been that one night at a party a while back, and another one after a game, and another one at our friends house, and another one… and the tension between us had never fully died down. I could still remember the way his eyes had felt on me, like he was measuring me in some silent way I didn’t know how to interpret.

“Y/N.” Maddie’s voice snapped me out of my daze. She followed my line of sight and groaned. “Oh no.”

I shook my head, panic setting in. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t even know if he saw you.”

“I’m not sticking around to find out,” I said, already sliding out of the booth.

“Y/N—”

But I was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the back hallway where the bathrooms were. I needed to breathe, to get away from the overwhelming weight of his presence.

The bathroom at Malone’s was about as glamorous as you’d expect—a narrow space with flickering fluorescent lights and graffiti scrawled across the stalls. I locked myself in one of the stalls, leaning back against the door as I tried to steady my breathing.

Of all the places to run into Joe, it had to be here.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about him. I had—more than I cared to admit. But thinking about him was one thing. Seeing him, knowing he was just a few feet away, was something else entirely.

I couldn’t face him. Not now, not here.

The bathroom was quiet, the kind of eerie stillness that felt out of place in the chaos of Malone’s. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the smudged mirror.

“Get it together,” I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath.

I didn’t even know why I was reacting like this. It wasn’t like we were still together. We weren’t anything anymore. And yet, the sight of him had thrown me completely off balance, dredging up feelings I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

But I couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, either.

I opened the bathroom door and nearly walked straight into him.

Joe was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed squarely on me.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and steady, a hint of amusement curling at the edges.

Nope.

Without a second thought, I ducked back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

I paced the small space, my mind racing. He’d seen me, which meant he was waiting for me. I couldn’t hide in here forever, but the thought of facing him felt impossible.

Eventually, I forced myself to take a deep breath and opened the door again.

Joe was gone.

Relief flooded through me as I stepped out into the hallway, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of him. But instead of Joe, my attention was drawn to a small slip of paper pinned to the corkboard on the wall next to the bathroom.

It wasn’t there before.

Curious, I stepped closer and pulled it free. The handwriting was unmistakable—slanted and bold, with a certain sharpness to the letters that felt uniquely him.

“Go to the party tomorrow. Please.”

I stared at the note, my heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.

My fingers tightened around the paper as Maddie appeared at the end of the hallway, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“What’s that?” she asked, gesturing to the note.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, shoving it into my pocket.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Ready to head back? I don’t think Joe’s here anymore.”

I nodded, though my mind was miles away.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I would go. Maybe I wouldn’t.

But one thing was for sure: Joe Burrow had just made sure I wouldn’t forget this night.

——————————————

hey guys! this is the beginning of my Love Tropes Series. The first part, About You, it’s going to be launched in four parts! stay tuned :)

[1425fivefive]

oscarmark + chastity (+virginity?) 🥺

i did chastity only. also baby's first oscmark 🥹 (for this kink prompt ask)

“You can’t be serious,” Oscar said.

Mark shrugged. “Seb swore by it.”

“Sure, but”—Oscar glanced down at Mark’s phone, flushing at the sight of the metal cage still filling the screen—“he didn’t wear a cage.”

Mark laughed, mean and mocking. “Think Seb had a bit more self control than you.”

Oscar’s flush deepened. Mark had walked in on him wanking in his driver room one time and acted like Oscar was a fucking sex addict. Mark hadn’t even told him to stop, had just shoved Oscar to his knees and had Oscar suck him off, made Oscar get off humping his leg like a dog. Oscar didn’t think Mark had any leg to stand on when it came to self control.

But Oscar didn’t stop Mark when Mark added it to his shopping cart and hit purchase. 

After it arrived, Mark dragged Oscar into the shower, shaved the sensitive skin around Oscar’s cock and balls, Mark’s rough hands gentle and precise. Oscar’s skin was pink and fresh and new after he stepped out of the shower. He felt pretty, almost, as he settled on the edge of the bed, spreading his thighs to make space for Mark. He wondered if Mark thought so too.

Mark didn’t say anything, but he traced a finger over the soft, newly-shaved skin above Oscar’s cock. When Oscar shivered, cock starting to firm up, Mark smacked Oscar’s balls, just hard enough to hurt.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned, folding in on himself.

“Can’t put the cage on if you’re hard,” Mark said shortly.

Oscar whimpered but he tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything other than the sight of Mark holding the cage.

Though Oscar wouldn’t admit it, he’d been thinking about it ever since Mark showed it to him. Thinking about Mark putting it on him before and after races, making sure Oscar didn’t touch himself when it was off. Thinking about Mark taking it off to shave him, keep him clean. Thinking about Mark fucking him with it on, how much it would hurt when he tried and failed to get hard.

Thinking about all that had his cock firming up again and Mark aimed another slap to his balls, harder this time.

Oscar yelped at the ache that shot through him, blinking back tears.

“If you can’t stay soft on your own,” Mark said, voice firm, “I’ll have to get ice.”

“No,” Oscar whimpered, cock already softening at the thought of Mark pressing ice to it, the searing cold against his sensitive skin.

Mark sighed, the long-suffering kind that always made Oscar feel like one of Mark’s kids. It probably said something fucked up about Oscar that he sort of liked feeling that way.

“Think this just proves why you need the cage,” Mark said shortly, before reaching down to tug Oscar balls through the ring. He was quick about it, efficient, almost like he’d done it before. Oscar tried not to think about where Mark might’ve practiced.

Mark slid the rest of the cage over Oscar’s cock, the click of the lock deafening in the quiet of Oscar’s flat.

Oscar’s cock immediately tried to stiffen at the sound, aching as it pressed against the bars of the cage. Oscar whined, bringing a hand down to press at his cock, like his hand would give him any relief. It felt good, in a fizzy, far-off sort of way, but Oscar knew he’d never be able to come like this.

The thought had Oscar blinking up at Mark with what he was sure was a desperate expression, hand still rubbing uselessly over his locked-up cock.

“Please,” Oscar whimpered. “I want to—I have to—”

“God,” Mark said, barking out a laugh. “Only a minute in and you’re already begging for it.”

Oscar was, he was, he felt so fucking desperate for it now that he couldn’t have it, desperate to touch his cock and stroke it and have Mark’s mouth around it. He pressed harder against his cock, tears springing to his eyes when he couldn’t get any relief.

“Stop,” Mark ordered.

Oscar let out a devastated little whine but he dropped his hand, staring mournfully down at his cock, swollen in its cage.

Mark made a small noise and when Oscar looked up at him Mark’s jaw was slack, a dark hungry expression on his face as he stared at Oscar’s cock.

Oscar wondered if Mark had really done this for himself. Told Oscar it’d help with his racecraft, help with his focus, when really Mark just wanted him like this. Locked up and needy, desperate and aching for it.

Oscar couldn’t hold back a moan at the thought, the idea of Mark wanting him like this, only for him. 

He spread his thighs wider, putting himself on display, trying to show off the tight little package of his cock.

“Jesus,” Mark groaned.

Oscar ducked his head down, looking up at Mark through his lashes in the way he knew drove Mark crazy. “Y’can still fuck me.” 

Oscar couldn’t imagine how awful it’d feel to be fucked like this, his cock red and leaking in its cage, rocking with every thrust of Mark’s hips. Oscar wanted it more than anything. Maybe Oscar could buy Mark a chain, have Mark wear the key on it while he fucked him, force Oscar to see what he’d let Mark do to him. The thought had Oscar reaching down to palm at his cock, whining when it only made everything worse.

Mark didn’t say anything, just reached forward and snatched Oscar’s wrist, yanking his hand away from his cock.

“Stop. Touching,” Mark gritted out. “That’s not yours to play with.”

Oscar whimpered, thighs spreading wider.

“Whose is it?” Mark asked, fingers tightening on Oscar’s wrist.

“Yours,” Oscar whispered. He debated for only a second before adding, “Daddy.”

Oscar barely had a second to breathe before he was being shoved back onto the bed, hips dragged right to the edge. Couldn’t catch his breath as he watched Mark pull his shirt over his head and shove his boxers and trousers to the floor all in one go, his thick cock bobbing.

Mark stepped to the edge of the bed, slapping his cock on Oscar’s stomach, right next to Oscar’s, tiny in comparison in its cage.

“Look at you,” Mark said, fond and mocking all at once.

Oscar whimpered, cock leaking feebly, trying and failing to get hard.

“Not really good for anything, is it?” Mark asked, dragging his cock over Oscar’s caged one. Mark spit on his hand, before bringing it down to rub at Oscar’s rim, checking that he was still open from when they’d fucked that morning.

Oscar didn’t answer. He’d sort of thought the question was rhetorical, honestly.

But Mark pressed against Oscar’s hole, his spit and the leftover lube and come from earlier barely enough to ease the way, and asked, “Is it?”

“No,” Oscar whispered, so turned on and ashamed he thought he might cry.

“Good boy,” Mark said, sounding pleased, proud, almost, before dragging his cock down to Oscar’s hole, pressing in, hot and huge and overwhelming.

Oscar gasped at the stretch. It wasn’t nearly wet enough but Mark grabbed the lube off Oscar’s nightstand before Oscar could complain, squirting a bit directly onto Oscar’s hole.

Oscar shivered at the cold but he forgot as soon as Mark kept pressing in, making Oscar take it, staring down at Oscar’s swollen cock.

“God,” Mark moaned. “You need it so bad.”

Oscar sniveled, nodded.

“Reckon I was right to lock you up,” Mark said, starting to move, pushing little gasps out of Oscar with each slap of his hips against Oscar’s arse. “Need it too bad. Probably why you keep letting Norris beat you. Can’t stop thinking about getting your cock in him.”

Oscar gasped, staring up at Mark in shock. He’d never thought about Lando like that, wasn’t interested in anyone other than Mark, really, but the thought of it, of Mark being jealous. Of Mark caring enough to want Oscar all to himself.

Mark sneered. “Imagine if he saw you like this,” Mark said. “Saw what you were really good for.”

Oscar whimpered, cock pulsing in its cage, drooling pre-come over the metal bars. Oscar wanted to beg Mark to touch it, drag a thumb over the swollen head, but he knew it wouldn’t feel good. Knew it’d only be an awful reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Mark angled his thrusts up, dragging his cock against Oscar’s prostate. Oscar had never been able to come from just prostate stimulation before but he felt desperate enough that he tried to focus, tried to will his body along, rim tightening around Mark.

Mark groaned at the feeling, hips stuttering. “Fuck, Oscar, gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

“No,” Oscar gasped, wrapping his legs around Mark’s waist, dragging him closer. “Don’t—I have to—need to—”

“Aw,” Mark said, voice mocking even as Oscar saw the arousal plain on his face. “Trying to come?”

Oscar whined but he nodded, frantic. “Please.”

Mark barked out a laugh. “Nah,” Mark said, bringing his hand up to splay across Oscar’s stomach, just above his caged cock, “don’t think you’ll be doing that for a while.”

Oscar gasped, eyes filling with tears. His cock pulsing in its cage, red and dripping and angry and he let out an awful sob, deep and devastated, the gravity of what he’d let Mark do sinking in. That he’d be like this for as long as Mark wanted him to be, needy and strung out and desperate, swollen and begging for it.

Oscar let out another sob, a tear slipping down his cheek, and he brought a hand up to scrub desperately at it, trying to hide it from Mark.

But Mark seemed to notice because he let out a low fuck and pressed in deep, wet warmth flooding Oscar as Mark started to come. It only made Oscar sob harder, feeling Mark get to chase his pleasure and get it.

“Please,” Oscar begged, voice wet. “Please, Mark, please, you have to—”

Mark shushed him, bringing a hand down to squeeze Oscar’s cock.

Oscar whimpered but he stopped begging, trying to blink away tears.

“Good boy,” Mark murmured, bending down to press a kiss to Oscar’s forehead, still buried in him. “Good boy, letting me have you like this.”

Oscar shuddered, wanted to keep begging, but when Mark pulled back and looked at him, eyes gentle and awed, Oscar forced himself to stop. Forced himself to remember that if this was the way Mark wanted him, he’d keep doing it until the day Mark stopped wanting him.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyNine

prompt from @mugloversonly @after-the-end-times @spectrum-spectre

It’s a little odd having a birthday banner hanging across the Christmas Tree, but everyone was pretty determined that this is Eddie’s birthday, and that’s a totally different thing to Christmas Eve. So everyone is here; Joyce even baked a proper birthday cake, and now they’re doing the thing where they bring out the cake and everyone sings.

It feels bittersweet to Steve; Eddie’s first birthday. It was a year ago today that Steve pulled Eddie out of the pool. A year ago today Eddie came back to him. He remembers vividly struggling to get Eddie up the stairs. Cleaning all the filth off him. How he’d looked, with no hair at all, all skin and bones, wobbling his way down the stairs. The noise he’d made the first time he ever tried bacon; the startled look on his face the first time he’d ever hiccuped.

Eddie stays where he’s been put, sitting at the head of dining room table, proudly wearing a Birthday party hat. Eddie’s been to a couple of birthdays this year, mainly for the kids, so he knows what’s coming. He looks fucking delighted at the sight of the cake, but he still checks, “I can blow out the candles?”

“Yeap,” Steve tells him.

“Make a wish first!” Joyce calls.

“I wish-”

“Nooooooo!” probably half a dozen people yell, “keep it a secret or it won’t come true,” Robin adds. Eddie stares hard at the candles for a long second, and then he looks up, finding Steve. Steve can see the moment Eddie settles on his wish.

He’s still staring at Steve when he blows them out.

“So...things with Eddie are good then?”

It’s a little uncomfortable, but all the stuff that happened feels like it was a long time ago now. Nancy has definitely been making an effort to build a fresh friendship, and Steve can’t fault her for it, not really. Steve finds Eddie, he can see him through the doorway into the kitchen, making something with Robin and Chrissy, “yeah everything is...great. Like really great.”

“I was...a little surprised, you know?”

“Yeah that’s...understandable,” and it is. Eddie is literally a creature from The Upside Down; he didn’t even look remotely human to begin with, half of him was literally a fish. Plus Steve’s never really been interested in guys before, but he guesses there must have always been a little something there for him to take to it so easily. Granted the circumstances forced his hand a little, and he’s still had a couple of things to work through but...he feels pretty good about it. Besides, Eddie still isn’t even really human, so it probably doesn’t exactly count. Not with his lack of nipples and his downstairs situation anyway; you can’t exactly try to stick Eddie into a category...he’s Eddie, a unique and perfect thing all his own.

In the kitchen, Robin spills something, Chrissy shrieks and Eddie manically dashes for a cloth, cackling. The chaos of it makes Steve smile at them; everyone is at least a few drinks deep, Steve’s sure.

“You really care about him though?” She presses a little. Nancy’s never been able to just let it go, especially if she doesn’t understand it. She always needs to know, Steve’s pretty sure it’s not a nosiness thing; more an understanding thing.

“Yeah, yeah I love him,” Steve tells her unabashed, it is the truth, “he loves me too.”

“You’re sure it’s not just...I mean you did rescue him, plus, where would he even go if you weren't together-”

“Are you suggesting Eddie has some sort of-of-of Stockholm syndrome?” Steve can’t help but laugh, a little incredulous at the suggestion.

“Well no, I just. Think you should both be sure-”

“How are you and Jon then?” Steve cuts her off. He chooses to lean into the spirit of Christmas and assume that Nancy’s concerns all come from a good place. Even so, it’s not a good intention Steve has to tolerate if he doesn’t want to. He raises his eyebrows at her, waiting.

Nancy draws breath, like she’s not done, but then clearly rethinks it and chooses her battle, Steve can see the moment when she decides not to pursue it, sipping her drink before she replies, “yeah, really good,” over her shoulder, Eddie, Chrissy, and Robs have their heads together, the conversation clearly turned serious.

“That’s good Nance,” Steve chooses to be the bigger man, “I’m just really glad you’re both happy,” he tells her pointedly. In the kitchen, Eddie’s turned to find Steve, watching him back. Steve can’t quite decipher the look on his face, but Robin’s clutching his arm, on her toes, speaking urgently to Eddie. She looks kind of panicked, which immediately worries Steve.

“Well, I mean, obviously I want you to be happy, I mean I’m glad, really glad it all worked out for you.”

Eddie has a look on his face that Steve’s pretty certain he’s never seen before. He can’t quite work out what it means other than...Eddie’s pissed. Like, really fucking angry. And he’s marching closer, shaking off both Robin and Chrissy in the process.

Steve has no clue what’s happening as Eddie approaches, pushing Steve away from Nancy to press him against the wall and then...kisses him. Steve has his eyes open, not sure what to make of Eddie’s rage, but he soon lets them slide closed. He melts against the wall. Eddie’s kissing him like he’s got something to prove. He’s almost bitey as he sucks at Steve’s lips, leaving little scrapes that don’t quite break the skin. The passion is surprising, but so fucking hot Steve leans into it fast, matching Eddie’s energy and he sucks on Eddie’s tongue, curling his fingers around Eddie’s hips to pull him closer, no longer wanting to stop to question Eddie’s motives.

Eddie pulls back, pink and flushed, an inch of space between them, panting for breath Eddie asks, “you and Nancy used to be together?”

“I-” Steve can’t help his gaze flicking side wards to Nancy, and then back to Eddie, Eddie’s eyes narrowing at the sight, something flashing in the depths, “yeah?” Steve confirms weakly.

Eddie presses closer, his claws pricking Steve’s skin through his clothes; Eddie’s never been possessive like this before, and Steve is...well they’ve had a lot of sex, and Eddie pressing himself against Steve like this, kissing him like that...Steve’s body is only reacting the way it always does, which is a little mortifying in a room full of people.

Eddie leans his face closer again, his hair brushing Steve’s forehead, his breath warm as he growls, “you had sex with her?”

“Eddie!” Steve splutters, but apparently even that is too much, Eddie has him by the wrist, not quite painful, but very harsh compared to Eddie’s usually gentle nature. Eddie turns, pulling Steve along and he...bares his teeth at Nancy, actually hissing at her on the way past.

“Eddie!” Steve starts again, shocked, this time a reprimand, “be nice!” That’s no way to behave, and Nancy is unnerved enough that she takes a big step back. Steve is dragged along behind Eddie, ending up locked into the downstairs bathroom together. Eddie pins him against the door with his body, kissing Steve soundly.

“Baby,” Steve starts, his words broken by kisses, “what’s gotten into you?”

Eddie just growls. It’s not a sound Steve’s ever heard before, and he can feel it, rumbling in Eddie’s body where their chests are pressed together, “need you.”

Eddie starts nipping at Steve’s throat, stinging kisses that makes Steve’s hips roll, looking for friction against Eddie’s thigh. His brain feels like it’s going a little mushy, Eddie’s being unusually forceful, and Steve’s vaguely aware that everyone is still out there and, probably, are now very aware that they’re shut in here together but...as Eddie’s questing fingers find the button on Steve’s jeans, he’s struggling to care about that stuff.

“We’ve got to be quiet,” Steve breathes out, a final token protest, giving in to what's about to happen. Eddie huffs dismissively, tugging down Steve’s jeans and underwear together, Steve angling his hips away from the door to help. Eddie abandons them there, bunched around Steve’s thighs, surging up for another possessive kiss. Eddie grabs Steve’s bare ass with both hands, his claws digging into the meat a little as he squeezes, pulling Steve against him.

“She not touch you again,” Eddie growls against Steve’s mouth, words choppy, “promise.”

“I...I promise baby, of course,” Eddie stares into Steve’s face, their warm breaths mingling as Eddie inspects him from inches away, like he’s searching for any hint of a lie, “no one else ever again, I swear it.”

Eddie nods once, sharply, before spitting into his palm and grabbing Steve's now, very hard cock. He had no idea he’d be into this, but possessive, bossy Eddie is lighting him up in a way he didn’t know he’d like, his brain turning to mush a little as Eddie touches him. He feels too warm, flushed and sweaty already, the world narrowed down to Eddie’s touch on him, hard and fast, intent on getting him off.

“And you,” Steve’s mouth is insisting before his brain catches up, he needs it, needs to make Eddie feel good too. Eddie doesn’t stop jerking him, but he does slow it down, leaning back a tiny bit, giving Steve space to reach past the bend of Eddie’s own arm to get to the button on his jeans.

Steve sees the fabric move. He can see Eddie’s cock desperately wriggling for freedom beneath his zipper. Eddie’s told him before that it gets real uncomfortable real fast, and Steve tuts quietly, “baby.”

Eddie’s cock forces it's way free before Steve even has the zipper half down, already having found it’s way through the slit in Eddie’s boxers, it rushes into Steve’s fingers, greeting him eagerly and tangling itself firmly there. Eddie groans, shuffling close again. The head of Eddie’s cock opens, setting sucking kisses on every part of Steve’s hand and fingers it can reach. They arrange themselves as Eddie’s hand speeds up again, “fuck, baby, yeah.” Steve’s cock is leaking, making Eddie’s hand slick, but Eddie still stops to spit again, landing the glob on the exposed head of Steve’s cock. It’s red already, and Eddie squeezes, forcing Steve’s foreskin up to roll back up and partially cover the swollen head.

Steve’s guts are tight already, the muscles in his ass and legs tensing, he can’t stop the shift of his own hips as he works his thumb in circles across the head of Eddie’s own cock. Eddie jacks him again, slow and so firm, forcing a massive dribble of pre come out of the head of Steve’s cock. Steve groans again, “baby, I’m gonna’-”

“Wait,” Eddie uses his free hand to push Steve’s hand off himself, letting his cock to wriggle free between them. It stands tall, searching, the black petals rippling.

Eddie angles Steve’s cock out, pulling the head down and towards himself, and Steve instantly knows what Eddies planning, “oh fuck baby, yes, yes please.” They’ve never done this before, but just the idea of it makes Steve hips shift, his balls going tight, the orgasm bubbling at the base of his cock, “please, now,” Steve vaguely aware that he’s whining, loud and desperate.

People can hear; he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants this.

Eddie’s cock latches to the head of Steve’s, the black petals stark against the dark pink spongy head. The fit is perfect, the slit of Steve’s cock, the head, being suckled and gently rubbed by all those little bumps, the sucking pulse feels like a mouth, the texture incredible. Eddie drags his hand upward, forcing Steve’s skin up again, his foreskin sliding over top of the petals. Eddie makes a choked noise, his free hand scrabbling again at the meat of Steve’s ass. Steve desperately locks his knees to stop himself from falling. The pulsing, sucking, pulling sensation is relentless.

Eddie moves his hand again, dragging Steve's foreskin back down, revealing the filthy sight of those jet black petals cupping the head of Steve's cock, the body of Eddie's cock writhing. Steve’s head thumps back against the door, his hips wriggling now, unable to stop himself moving in tiny little thrusts, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve groans, “baby-”

Eddie leans up for a kiss. It’s messy, uncoordinated, both of them groaning and panting into each others mouths, and Steve cries out against Eddie’s lips as he comes. The pull is sharp, the stimulation on the head of his cock turning frantic as, just like with Steve’s spit on his cock, Steve’s come works to push Eddie into his own orgasm. Eddie accidentally catches Steve’s lip with his teeth, and the sting is delicious. His orgasm seems to go on forever, Eddie's cock suckling fiercely, and Eddie’s hand working him so perfectly.

Eventually, Eddie slumps forward onto Steve, Steve using his back to the door to keep them both up. “That was…” Steve starts, but doesn’t know where to go. He doesn’t know how to describe what just happened. It was maybe the best orgasm of Steve’s life.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, muffled where his face is smushed into Steve’s shoulder. The head of Steve’s dick is suddenly cold, and he figures Eddie’s dick has gone back in. They stand there for a few minutes, Steve rubbing Eddie’s back, gathering themselves. Eddie clears his throat, lifting his head so he can look Steve in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

Steve frowns, brain still a little flooded with happy chemicals, “what?”

“For before. I just...I found out about you and Nancy and I got...I got so angry. It,” Eddie makes a motion between them, a churning of his insides that he can’t express, “I’ve never felt like that before it was...like I hated her. And I needed you and I don’t understand-”

“You were jealous, baby?”

“I...yeah, it was horrible. And stupid- I didn’t – there’s no-” Eddie huffs, struggling for the words.

“How you feel doesn’t always make sense. There’s no...rules, you know.” Steve frowns, remembering, “should probably say sorry to Nancy though, you like, hissed at her which, kind of funny but still.”

Eddie looks a cross between horrified and mortified, “I don’t even remember.”

“Wow,” Steve can’t help being smug, “got it bad for me, huh?”

Eddie limply slaps at Steve’s chest, sighing through his nose, “shut up.”

Steve hums, “uh huh. We should get cleaned up.”

“Probably.”

They peel themselves apart, Steve leaning to grab for some tissue off the roll as Eddie starts to pull his pants down a little, but as Steve investigates, his finds his cock dry, “huh, where did it go?” He wipes up a little, the skin tacky with spit and precome, but otherwise everything is clean and dry, “uh...is my come on you? I can’t, uhm, find it?” He tucks himself away, pulling everything up so he can help Eddie.

“I don’ t think so?” Eddie replies, touching himself, his slit, the crease of his thighs, when Steve goes to wipe at him with the tissue, since Eddie usually makes a lot of come, there’s nothing, “I’m clean,” Eddie tells him.

Steve frowns, “did you come?”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, “I definitely, definitely did. That was…”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “but you’re dry?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scissors his thighs together, something he normally does when he’s spreading all the jelly like come about, “nothing there.”

“This is weird, where'd it all go? And why haven’t you, you know?” Steve feels for himself, running two fingers gently along Eddie’s slit, pushing in to part him the tiniest bit, Eddie makes a breathy little noise as Steve pulls away, “you sure you came?”

“Steve,” Eddie replies flatly, pulling his pants up and buttoning them.

“Right right it’s just...weird, right?”

Eddie shrugs, “makes it easy?”

“Yeah...don’t look a gift horse in the mouth I guess, considering we now have to go out there and face everyone.”

Eddie grins, “I like that they know.”

“Of course you do,” Steve sighs, fixes his hair in the mirror, and opens the door.

It’s after midnight; Eddie’s birthday is officially over. All the kids have gone home with Hopper and Joyce, and before everyone else heads home, since it’s Christmas, they’re going to exchange gifts now.

Steve had been, mildly mortified after they came out of the bathroom, not really wanting to face Joyce's raised eyebrows or the girls giggling...Eddie however, has been strutting around like a proud peacock, so Steve hasn't been feeling too ashamed about the whole thing. He is however, glad of the distraction of the gifts.

All the gifts are stacked under the tree, and Steve has been voted to distribute. A lot of the labels have been made from cut up magazine letters so that the hand writing won’t be recognized; to Steve they vaguely look like ransom threats.

They go around the room, opening their gifts one at a time, trying to guess who got them. They mostly work it out. Steve isn’t that interested in his own; he’s more interested in what Eddie got. The box is actually kind of heavy, and it’s pretty big.

Eddie opens it happily, pulling out a record that Steve knows he’s wanted for ages. And then...a denim jacket with no sleeves that Steve knows he was eyeing at the thrift store. Steve watches with mounting suspicion as Eddie pulls out a book he's talked about. The box, now Steve’s thinking about it, is wrapped with very familiar wrapping paper.

“Eddie, you got loads, they definitely didn’t stay on budget. Who got Eddie? Steve, was it you?”

“No, no it wasn’t me,” Steve quietly chuckles to himself. He half listens as Robin goes around the room, and every single person denies getting Eddie.

“Whoever pulled your name must know you pretty well, huh Baby? They got you exactly what you wanted.”

“Yup,” Eddie grins happily.

“Steve, come on, it must have been you, it wasn’t any of us.”

Steve just shakes his head in denial before turning back to Eddie, “baby...it’s kind of against the rules to pull your own name.”

Eddie frowns, “no it isn’t,” the whole room erupts into laughter around them.

Steve tries to clear up some of the aftermath, but it’s nearly two in the morning and he can’t be fucked really. He collapses on the couch, finishing his now warm flat soda. He can hear Eddie pottering, “we should go to bed!” Steve calls. He’s not loud, not much above speaking volume really, but he knows Eddie will hear him.

“Can we do our gifts now?” Eddie asks from the doorway.

“Sure Baby, if you want to. We’re going to be out most of the day tomorrow anyway,” they’re spending Christmas with the Hopper-Byers brigade, and Steve is kind of looking forward to it. Eddie’s second ever Christmas.

Steve heads off to his hiding place in one of the spare rooms to get Eddie’s gifts, Eddie does the same; Steve knows his are stashed out in the utility.

He’s been pretending not to know.

“Okay, me first,” Eddie says, sitting and pulling out what Steve knows is the record. Steve eyes the gift he has from Eddie; just the one, but it’s fairly big looking. Square. Steve has no idea what it could be.

Eddie likes the record; he absolutely loves the book of Metallica tabs and almost leaves to get his guitar right there and then, but Steve stops him, “tomorrow baby. We really need to sleep after this.”

Eddie laughs at himself and his own excitement, agreeing. When he opens his final gift, the guitar pick necklace, he puts it on immediately and swears he loves it so much he’s never going to take if off. Steve’s glad to hear it, even if it makes him feel, momentarily, a little weirdly possessive.

“Okay, this first,” Eddie pulls over the box, “Chrissy helped me,” he admits as Steve unwraps it, carefully pulling out the frame inside. It’s wrapped in soft packing paper, and Steve pulls that away to reveal his crown. It’s been artfully arranged behind the glass, all dried now, the tufts of grasses stand tall, still twined up with all the little flowers that Eddie had included. Clearly someone spent a very long time carefully setting it out, and it looks beautiful. Steve had carefully stored it away in a shoebox, so he hadn't even noticed it was gone. He’s...touched, by the memory of them in the woods around Hopper’s cabin. Eddie had told Steve he loved him for the first time not long after.

“Thank you...it’s so thoughtful. Thank you. I can hang this up and remember it forever, I love it.” Eddie smiles, slipping off the couch to kneel in front of Steve. Steve sets the frame down.

Eddie pulls a little velvet box out of his pocket, “I didn’t understand what it meant,” he starts slowly, “when you put this on me,” he lifts his left hand, rubbing at the ring with his thumb. “I didn’t know what being engaged was, or weddings or...any of it. I didn’t know, but you loved me anyway, and I’ve never taken it off,” Steve swallows thickly, he knows, he knows in his bones where this is going, but he lets Eddie speak. If Eddie’s saying so may words in one go, it means he’s really thought about, and Steve won’t interrupt him. “But I know now. I understand all of it, and I know I’m a guy, and...we can’t get married, but I...wanted to show you that I know. I know now, and I love you too.”

Eddie opens the box, it’s a simple silver band, thicker than Eddie’s but still, it matches. Steve isn’t sure he’d be able to speak, his eyes already feel wet, so he silently holds his hand out for Eddie to slide the ring on; it fits perfectly.

Steve feels like he’ll crack open if he tries to talk about what he feels right now, it’s too big, too much, “you measured my finger didn’t you. Before the mall? So sneaky.”

Eddie nods, his own eyes looking suspiciously misty, smiling and biting at his lip, clearly nervous, “do you like it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I love it, thank you. I love you.”

Eddie smiles, sitting up for a kiss, “love you, too.”

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Princess Treatment

Surprise! @almostempty I’m your secret santa!!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it(:

Dave York x Nanny!reader x Frankie Morales

Warnings: 18+, SMUT. We’ve got infidelity (dave is married w/kids hence the need for a nanny) threesome, two splash’s of cuck, a small side of pre ejaculation, double penetration, sprinkle of hidden camera, a facial and I think I got everything. Not beta’d, lightly proofed by me. All mistakes are mine.

Wc: 3663

And now, time for the main event

Good ole suburbia. Home sweet home. Perfectly built houses lined up and down the street, all filled with perfect little families. Well behaved children played in the front yards. Neighbors would throw bbq’s in the summer and invite everyone over. Wife’s sending their husbands off to work in the morning. Picture perfect. Of course it’s all a facade. The big blue house tucked back in the cul de sac is home to the York family. Dave and his wife Carol and their two daughters Molly and Alice. To the outside world, they are a beautiful family. Doting father of two with a government job and subservient wife who takes care of the kids and keeps the house clean and dinner on the table by 5 oclock sharp every night. They hired you about a year ago as a live in nanny. Dave is frequently going on business trips and Carol decided she wanted to go back to work and she would need the help with the girls. They were a lovely couple when you first interviewed. You always felt a more warm welcome from Dave than Carol. It was like she had a bad taste in her mouth around you.

You tried your best to ignore the weird vibes you got from her since you were mostly around her on a daily basis. For the most part it wasn’t that bad and you got paid a very pretty penny too which absolutely helped. About a month into living at the York house, you accidentally overheard Dave and Carol arguing. They were trying to keep it hush but you could make out that Carol didn’t like that Dave paid you as much as he did. It seemed like she was overall just bothered by your presence. After that you kinda just kept your head down and did everything expected of you and kept to yourself. You were in charge of getting the girls up in the morning and on the school bus, getting them off the bus in the afternoon and getting them to all their extracurriculars. Not too hard.

After a full year being the York’s nanny, you’ve grown quite close to Molly and Alice. You and Carol are cordial. And then there’s Dave. If tall, mysterious and handsome were an actual person, it would be Dave. He has this aura about him. You could never fully explain it but you could feel it. When he was at home, you felt safe but also felt like you could never shake the feeling that his eyes were always on you somehow. Even when he was away, you could still feel his eyes on you but it wasn’t as strong as when he was home. You’ll never forget the day you caught him blatantly staring down your shirt. You had been wearing a simple black tshirt with a v neck. When you had caught him staring you couldn’t help but be shocked and he just smirked at you as if to say “Yea I’m looking and what are you gonna do about it.” That night you gave into your deepest desire and you got yourself off multiple times thinking of Dave. Your poor fingers were cramped but you kept going. You’d been attracted to him since day 1 but you buried it deep due to the whole he’s a married man thing. You thought of his thick fingers fucking you, how he’d feel coming up behind you, bending you over and just making you take every inch of his dick. You fantasized him using you whenever, wherever. You came thinking about how good he’d feel as you cockwarmed him after a long day at the office.

There was a change in the air the next morning after this. It was a Sunday, which is your off day. You woke up around 6:30am, rolled out of bed and into the shower before getting dressed in a simple, cute black tshirt dress. As you walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen, you noticed it was quiet. Quieter than normal for a Sunday morning in a household with two kids. No cartoons playing, no toys going off, no arguing over who’s turn it is to play with whatever the girls are currently obsessed with. As you rounded the corner, you saw Dave sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a dark blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants with his hair still tousled from sleep.

“Good morning sleeping beauty, I know todays your day off but Carol decided to take the girls to go visit her parents last night so it’s just the two of us today.”

“Oh okay I was curious about the quiet.” You said with a soft giggle as you smiled at Dave before looking down at your feet. As hot as Dave is, it’s hard for you to hold eye contact with him for long. He has a strong, intimidating stare.

Dave goes to stand up and walks over to where your standing,

“Please, help yourself to anything in here. I’m sure you probably know what’s in here more than I do,” he chuckled, “if you need me I’ll be in my office.”

Looking up at him, you gulped and nodded, “Thank you Mr. York.”

Dave’s hand comes up to your face, his thumb and fore finger gently grab your chin as he makes you look at him.

“It’s Dave, sweet girl.”

“Dave” you repeat in a whisper. Knees weak from the proximity to your boss.

He flashes you a toothy smile and a wink before dropping his hand and stepping to the side to get around you to leave the kitchen.

The rest of the morning moves rather quietly into the afternoon when you hear a truck roar into the driveway. You sneak a peak out your bedroom window to see Dave’s friend, Frankie Morales, step out of his truck and make his way to the door on the side of the house that leads down into the basement. You’ve met Frankie a couple of times before. Old military buddy of Dave’s, pretty cute, single father of one. He doesn’t intimidate you like Dave does. He has a softer look, one that makes you wanna cook him meals and surprise him with head after work. You get the vibe he wouldn’t be the type to be overly dominant in the bedroom and on occasion that he does, he feels bad and apologizes immediately after. You like that though, you have a soft spot for men with a tough exterior that are really just big softies.

About an hour has passed since Frankie came over. You start to feel hungry so you decide to go see what Dave would like for dinner. As you go downstairs into the basement, you could hear music playing and the clank of balls being shot into the pockets of the pool table.

As you step off the last step before you even have time to make your presence known, both men stop what they’re doing and look up at you.

“Well speak of the devil, we were just talking about you princess. You’ve met my buddy Frankie before. Come on over, don’t be shy.” Dave has both hands on the pool table as he slightly leans over it. Frankie’s standing next to him, holding a pool stick. You cross the distance from the steps over to the pool table as you nibble on your bottom lip.

You stand across from the men and give them a soft smile as Dave picks up his stick and comes over by you. He lays his stick on the table just so and crouches down, getting eye level with the ball right before he pulls back and lets the stick shoot forward. His target falls into the corner pocket.

He looks up at you, smirking,

“You know how to play sweet girl?”

You shake your head no as Frankie comes over, now sandwiched between the two men.

“Here take my stick.” Frankie hands his stick over to you. As you grab it from him, his big hand covers yours as he reaches behind you and grabs your other hand and places it higher up on the stick. His broad frame covering you as he leans in closer, his face now next to yours.

“Bend down, you wanna be more eye level with the stick to see what angle it’ll hit the ball.”

“Okay” you say softly before taking your eyes off of him and bending over. Your eyes go wide as you feel his bulge press against your ass.

“Don’t overthink it too much or you’ll overshoot.” Dave’s smooth voice interrupted.

You can feel the heat of Dave’s body right next to you with Frankie’s body practically swallowing you whole. You try hard to focus on the game in front of you but in reality, you are zeroed in on the two men. Frankie moves the stick in your hands, you can feel it glide in between your fingers that are covered by his. Before you even realized, the stick shoots forward. The sound of the ball getting smacked and rolling into a pocket snapped you out of this trance you seem to be in.

“You know I was just telling Frankie here a funny story. I saw something last night and,” he chuckles, “I think you’d get a good laugh out of it too. Here,” he slides his phone into your line of sight, a video playing. The video shows a woman laying on a bed, legs spread as her fingers move in a circle on her clit. Her head thrown back, a breathy moan “oh Dave oh fuck me dave please”

Something about this is eerily familiar. After a few seconds it dawns on you.

Your eyes go wide and your face heats up as you watch you finger fuck yourself on your boss’ phone.

You can feel Frankie smile behind you as he takes the stick out of your hand and lays it on the table but still continues to stand behind you.

“Wanna tell me what this is about sweet girl?”

“I - I I I’m s- so sorry Mr York I - I’m not I promise I didn’t mean -“

Dave clicks his tongue as Frankie lets out a chuckle.

“Don’t try and lie to me. I watched you try and finger your poor abused little pussy all night long. Is that any way to treat her? I’m right down the hall baby. Could’ve sent me a text and told me to meet you in the bathroom since you were so needy.”

Your mouth dropped open, absolutely gobsmacked at what he just said. Frankie now fully grinding into your ass as he giggles at the scene in front of him. Dave gets up and walks over to the couch and sits down. Frankie follows his lead and sits on the chair that sits to the side, half facing the couch. Frozen in spot, it takes Dave to give you a come here movement with his fingers before you feel your legs carry your body over to where the men are sitting.

“Come sit on my lap honey. Let’s talk.”

You follow his orders, a part of you terrified your boss knows your deepest darkest secret and the other half hoping they both fuck your brains out. You move on autopilot as you turn to sit on his knee, doing your best to not put a lot of weight on his leg. Dave quickly puts an end to that as he grabs you by the hips and pulls you back on his lap. Your thin dress and his sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. You can feel his hard on, plain as day.

“I’ve told you before, no need to be shy sweetheart. Spread those pretty legs of yours.”

You lean back against his chest as you look at him shyly before opening your legs for him. His big hands run up and down your thighs before pushing up your dress, revealing your soaked panties.

“Damn baby all this for me?” He says, eyes fixed on your pussy as he pulls them to the side.

“You don’t mind if he watches right?”

“N no”

Dave gives you a big grin, “Good.” His eyes go back down to watch as his fingers go up your wet seam. You watch his fingers as he slowly spreads your lips open, gently exploring your pussy.

“How many fingers you think she can take?”

Before you can even answer, Dave plunges two thick fingers deep inside you illicitly a gasp from you. His fingers alone are so thick, you feel yourself being stretched wide open on them. He moves them in and out at a slow pace as his other hand moves up to grope your tit.

Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps fingering you, pushing in and out, filling you up.

You manage to open your eyes and look over at Frankie. He was leaned back in the chair, manspreading as he palmed his hard cock.

Dave noticed you watching Frankie, taking his fingers out, “Frank, come here. Let’s see how much this tight little pussy can take.”

Frankie gets up and sits next to you and Dave before sliding his hand up your thigh,

“I don’t know Dave, I don’t think she can handle both of us.”

A horny demon seems to take over you and you quickly shake your head yes,

“I I can try”

For as eager as you are, you are equally nervous. You’ve never taken on two dicks at once but holy fuck are you turned on and wanna try.

Both men just smile, more so to themselves as Dave’s fingers pull one side of your pussy open and Frankie’s pulls the other side open. Dave’s the first to plunge a finger in and Frankie follows. They find a nice rhythm as their fingers move in and out. You throw your head back and let out a deep moan that you’ve been trying to hold back. Dave bites the side of your neck as he sinks another finger in. Your pussy convulses around the thick digits. Frankie pulls the top of your dress down and pulls your tit out, leaning down and taking your nipple in his mouth. You can’t help but put your arm around his head and hold him close as he sucks your breast. The feeling of both of their fingers moving in tandem has you on the verge of tears.

“Oh fuck look at that baby, taking four fucking fingers. Soaking our fucking hands, goddamn baby that’s it.” As soon as Dave said that, you managed your best to look down and they both had two fingers plunged deep inside you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when you felt Dave’s other hand press on your lower stomach. It was like a light switch. You somehow felt them even deeper. The pressure from that and from their fingers moving amplified. Tears escaped your eyes, you couldn’t take much more. This deep build up inside of you clawing its way out. You had started to squirm, your ass now rubbing up and down Dave’s lap. Dave’s breath hitched in your ear.

“Breath baby, just breath, you’re doing so good. Come on breath with me.” Dave managed to get out in a hurried whisper, his own voice giving him away. Seeing you like this has him on the verge of his own orgasm. The friction of your ass rubbing against him added to the sight of you and knowing he’s the reason your falling apart.

A sob wracked through your entire body as your orgasm crashed into you. Your hips practically levitating

Frankie and Dave both watched as you gushed out, practically pushing their fingers out. Dave’s own moans finally coming out as his dick starts to spurt cum inside his sweat pants. His chest heaving as he pants in your ear, holding you close to him.

“Fuck that was hot.” Frankie said breathlessly before leaning in and claiming your lips with his. Your cheeks were wet from the tears as you still felt disoriented but managed to kiss him back with as much fierceness as he had.

Frankie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. Your own body still trembling from the aftershocks of that mind blowing moment.

Frankie moved your hips up and down, causing you to grind against him while he continued to claim your lips with his. After a few moments he broke the kiss and made quick work of taking his dick out.

Out of breath and just barely getting ahold of yourself again, you look down at his throbbing cock as he gives it a few pumps before he’s pulling you back close again. You put your arms on his shoulders as he does the work for you, putting his dick right where you want him.

You’re so wet, you slide down his cock easily but the delicious burn of the stretch still makes your jaw drop as it takes your breath away.

Frankie’s head rolls back as his eyes close, feeling every inch of your pussy as he uses you like a fleshlight. Moving your hips up and down as he fucks you slowly. He knows he has a big dick and he doesn’t want to hurt you by going hard too fast. He takes his time and builds up speed before wrapping his arms around you and jack hammering his cock up into you. You collapse, hanging onto him as he makes you take his girthy dick. The two of you so lost in what you were doing, completely forgetting Dave sitting right next to you.

But Dave is very much enjoying the show. He’s pulled out his own cock using his cum as lube, stroking himself as he watches Frankie fuck you.

“Fffuckk that’s it baby, god look at you. What a fucking whore. I wish you could see how you look right now, fucking beautiful.” Dave starts to ramble as he works himself up again. His voice startles you a little as you try to lift your head and look over at him.

Frankie slows his thrusts down, grabbing your ass checks as he rolls his hips up. Grinding deep inside you.

Dave stands up and hets behind you. His big hand pushes on your back causing you to fall forward on Frankie.

You feel his finger probe your asshole, just barely poking in before he sinks in to the knuckle. Your poor pussy starts to convulse on Frankie’s dick, getting even wetter.

“Don’t get scared now baby, you can take us.” Dave said as he starts to move his finger in and out. He bends forward a little before pursing his lips and spitting. A wet splat lands in between your cheeks as he takes his finger out to move it down to your hole. Without notice he sticks a second finger in, slowly working you open. Frankie’s holding you tight to him, not moving inside you as his friend stretch’s you open so you can take both cocks at once.

Your face buried in Frankie’s neck, squeezing your eyes shut as this amazing, full feeling washes over you. It’s so much having a cock in your pussy and feeling his fingers in your ass.

After a few minutes of getting you ready, Dave takes his fingers out. Spits on his hand to add to his already cum lubed dick. Guiding his cock to your back entrance, he slowly pushes the tip in. You gasp as all the air leaves your body. Clinging to Frankie as you try to accommodate both men.

“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. Fucking beautiful.” Dave grunts out as he pushes all the way in. Once his cock is buried in your ass, you can feel him throb. Dave reaches up and gathers your hair in a ponytail before giving you an experimental grind. Slowly moving back out, he starts to fuck your ass. Frankie begins to thrust up into you. The two men quickly work up a rhythm, both cocks moving in and out, fucking you. Dave tugs on your hair, causing you to lift your head off Frankie’s shoulder and bend back. Loud moans tumble from your lips.

“There she is, look at you taking us sweet girl. Taking it so well, fuck.”

“She’s so wet Dave, I think she likes being stuffed with two dicks. Don’t you baby? Such a slutty little pussy, needs two men to fuck her properly huh?” Frankie groans as your pussy answers for you, tightening on his cock.

A symphony of grunts and moans fill the air, balls slapping against skin, cocks sliding in and out of your holes.

“Frank, I think we should give our girl a nice facial. To thank her for letting us use her pretty holes.”

“No better way to show our appreciation Dave.”

Dave pulls out and pulls you off of Frankie. Doing his best to gently guide you to your knees. Your own legs jelly from the most intense fuck of your life.

Both men stand in front of you, jerking their cocks in your face as you stick your tongue out as far as you can. Dave and Frankie both tap the tip of their cocks on your tongue. Frankie starts to spurt cum first, painting your face with thick globs hitting above your eye and on your tongue. Dave cums next, his hitting you on your cheek and around your mouth. Frankie scoops a little off your face, putting it in your mouth. Closing your mouth around his digits to suck them clean.

“Thank you” you say with a smile and the little bit of air you have left in your lungs.

The men look down at you and smile. They are going to throughly enjoy having you around.

[thef1diary]

boss!daniel being a menace during the christmas party; stealing inappropriate touches when no one is looking, whispering the filthiest things while you're in a conversation with your coworkers. at some point he can't wait any longer so he drags you upstairs and fucks you in the nearest room 🫠

🩵

— nonnie, I’ll just have you know this request hasn’t left my mind for daysss. constantly been thinking about all the tricks he’d pull on you 😵‍💫 18+ content below

The office Christmas party was loud, bustling with chatter and laughter, but all you could focus on was Daniel. He’d been hovering nearby all evening, his presence impossible to ignore. Every so often, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered the filthiest things imaginable.

“You look so good in this, sweetheart,” he murmured while you were mid-conversation with your coworkers, his voice low and teasing. “Too good, really. Makes me want to bend you over a desk right here, fuck you, and let all my employees watch.”

His smirk only grew when he caught the way your breath hitched, your eyes darting nervously around the room to see if anyone heard him. They didn’t. Completely absorbed in their own discussions, they were oblivious to the heat blooming on your cheeks or the way your thighs squeezed together in response.

He stepped in close, his frame blocking yours from their view before his hand slid up to your chest, fingers finding the peak of your nipple through your shirt. The pinch made you gasp softly, your eyes darting around to see if, again, anyone noticed.

“Relax,” he murmured, popping a button on your shirt. “No one’s looking.”

Your breath caught as he popped another, then another, his hand pulling the fabric aside just enough to expose your cleavage, the hardened peak of your nipple brushing the edge.

“No bra,” he said under his breath, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin. “You really came to the party like this? Reckless.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Daniel tilted the drink he held in his other hand, the cold liquid splashing down your chest.

The sharp gasp you let out drew attention immediately. Heat rushed to your face as you quickly clutched your shirt together, hiding your exposed skin before anyone could see.

“Oh no,” Daniel said, all wide-eyed innocence. “I’m so sorry!” He grabbed a handful of napkins from the table, dabbing at your chest.

“Let me help,” he added, his voice soft and sincere, but the deliberate swipe of his fingers grazing your tits told a different story.

You swallowed hard, biting back a curse as he continued his charade. “We should—excuse us, everyone, I need to help her clean up.”

Before you knew it, Daniel was guiding you out of the room, his hand resting low on your back. The moment the elevator doors closed, his mask of guilt slipped, replaced by a smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Messy little thing,” he murmured, glancing down at your disheveled blouse. “Let’s make you messier.”

He led you into a private office on another floor, shutting the door behind him. The second the lock clicked, his lips were on yours, his hands tugging your shirt open completely.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you tonight?” he groaned, fingers sliding under the waistband of your skirt. He hooked his thumb into your panties—lace, of course, part of the “uniform” he’d required for your position—and tugged them down.

Daniel pushed you onto the couch, his body covering yours as he slid his cock into your cunt with a single rough thrust. The stretch was intoxicating, your hands clutching at his shirt as he moved, his pace unforgiving.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as his cock drove into you again and again. “You take me so well,” he murmured against your ear, his teeth grazing the shell. “This is why I hired you as my assistant, hm? You’re so good for me, keeping your cunt wet and ready for me. To please me, my good little slut.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as he held you firmly in place, his pace unrelenting. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small office, mixed with your desperate moans and his ragged breaths.

When you clenched around him, Daniel’s rhythm faltered, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep and spilled into you. He didn’t pull out, not right away. Instead, he stayed pressed against you, his lips trailing down the column of your neck, his voice low and sinful.

“Stay still,” he murmured, withdrawing slowly. You shivered at the emptiness, only to gasp as he slid your lacy panties back up, trapping his cum inside you. His fingers brushed over the fabric, pressing lightly. “Keep it in. That’s your job, isn’t it? Taking care of me and my mess.”

When the two of you returned to the party, no one seemed to notice anything amiss, but you couldn’t focus on their conversations. All you could feel was the warm, slick reminder of Daniel’s Christmas gift in your pussy, soaking into the lace of your panties.

Daniel caught your eye from across the room, lifting another drink in a mock toast as if to say, Merry Christmas.

want more boss!daniel? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[merakiui]

hey Mera you said centaur Trey and I’m going insane need him in me yesterday. You’re the farmhand but Trey is soooooo helpful! He’s all muscle so it’s so useful. He’s filled with considerate gestures and safe smiles so of course you don’t think twice about agreeing to pay him back for all his help. Too bad he’s not interested in treats (though he thinks your offer to cook is cute) to eat. Only plowing your pussy will really relieve his stress you know? Breeds you in the stable you two worked so hard to clean and uses the wood beams as support for his grip as his cock thrusts into you. That’s okay right? Well, if you can still form sentences with a horse cock gouging your stomach out and forming a bulge anyway

👁️ 👁️ all the thoughts are knocked from your head the minute the head of his cock bullies its way inside your tight pussy. >_< ooo can’t even get a word out when you’re gasping and making all sorts of sweet sounds. Trey who soothes you with his soft voice, gently coaxing you to relax even though his grip on the support beams above is so strong it risks breaking. You did say you wanted to pay him back for all his help, didn’t you? This is just the thing he needs. A nice pussy to enjoy after a hard day’s work, and he’s certain you’ll feel just as good as he does. He’s really grateful for how kind you are, even if you’re not exactly listening to what he’s saying.

Maybe you’re babbling about how he’s definitely going to break you because his cock isn’t even halfway in but it’s already nudging your cervix and you’re reduced to nothing more than a hopeless breeding sow. orz filling you up with so much cum you look halfway through a pregnancy by the end of it, an absurd amount of cum leaking out from your pussy. Too weak to get up, so Trey just lifts you up over his shoulder and rests you over his back to carry you somewhere comfy. <3 he might’ve overdone it,,, oops. ^^;;;;

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS MY LOVELY GREENIES!!! ENJOY THIS DELICIOUS SCENE FOR YOUR HOLIDAYS!!!! 😈

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: FILTHY DIRTY SMUT, 18+ MDNI, fingering, oral, anal (if you squint), little rough, dirty talk pet names, multiple creampies, explicit language

WC: 4011

Chapter 21

It was hot. You were hot. You were on the verge of sweating as you woke up. You managed to sleep most of the night but there was an ache currently growing in your lower abdomen pulling you from your dreams. You became very aware of the body behind you, his arm draped over your waist and holding you close as his face was buried in your neck. His breathing was even, soft snores being heard.

Normally, you would bask in the comfort and warmth he brings, but right now it was too hot. And you were in pain - a pain he could help if he would just wake up. You open your eyes, suddenly aware of the intoxicating smell in the room. It was that rut smell you were so familiar with but mixed with Chan. He smelled unbelievably good, wow.

You didn’t want to disturb his rest since it was rare, but your hips had a mind of their own. Grinding back into his crotch, he groans in your ear as you feel he’s already hard. A low growl is heard from his throat and you whimper. Your hormones were in overdrive, making you feel hazy and out of control. 

You keep grinding, only to feel his hold on you tighten. His breathing quickened, his heart starting to race. You were waking him and the anticipation of what was about to happen excited you.

“What do you think you’re doing, baby?” he rasped in your ear. 

His voice was heavy with sleep as he whispered. It sent shivers down your spine as you leaned into him. 

“Fuck, you smell amazing.” he growled, nipping at your earlobe. 

You moan and he bucks his hip at the sound.

“Channie…” you whine.

“What baby?”

You moan, grinding into him.

“Use your words. What do you want?” He kisses your neck and shoulder as he speaks.

“You.”

“You have me.” 

“Channie…”

He chuckles. “I want you too. I need you so bad.”

You moan, your hand holding his as it moves up to grope your breast. He pinches and teases the bud as you grip his wrist. Your breath catches in your throat as he nips at your skin. Pushing off the blanket, you flinch as the cool air hits your skin. Chan’s hand slides down your front, slipping between your slick folds. You lean into him, back arching as he moves his fingers.

“So wet, honey.” Chan groans.

He moves from behind you, laying you on your back as he comes between your legs. He continues teasing your clit, slipping a finger inside you. He pumps it a few times before adding two more. You were so wet, dripping onto the sheets as he thrusted his fingers. He was salivating at the sight, pupils blown as took in every curve and contour of your body.

Your eyes were closed, pussy clenching around his fingers as he built up your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out with a smirk, sucking them clean. He groaned at your sweet taste, pushing your legs towards your head roughly. Your hips lifted off the bed and he quickly attached his lips to your clit, sucking and licking. You groaned, your body folded in half, as he feasted on you.

His tongue prodded your hole, pushing in as far as he could, his nose rubbing your clit. You were about to snap, the sensations driving you crazy. Your body started to shake, your orgasm knocking into you. You cry out but he doesn’t ease up. Instead, your moans entice him to keep going.

“Ahhh…Channie…” 

He growls, the vibrations only prolonging the high. Your eyes were rolled back, hands fisting the sheets.

He finally comes up for air, your juices on his lips and chin as he looks at you with a dazed expression. It was like he was high off your scent and taste. He lowered your hips, crawling up and planting his lips on yours. His kiss was hungry, the poor man was starving for you and he was finally getting his deepest desire. He had been waiting his whole life for this and he was going to enjoy Every. Single. Second.

You tasted yourself on his tongue, the sweet taste making you realize why they liked it so much. Chan’s hips rutted against you, making you squirm. How was he not naked yet?

His bulge pressed against his pajama pants as he rubbed against your naked heat. He was so hard underneath. You whined, reaching for the waistband and trying to push them down. He kissed down your jaw and your neck as you whined in frustration. He nipped at your neck before finally leaning up and helping you slide his pants down. 

His cock sprang free and your eyes feasted on the sight before you. He was thick like Changbin but he had the length too. If you didn’t know any better, you would think it wouldn’t fit. 

The beads of precum on the reddened tip were about to drip. You moved towards him, licking it off. He groaned, throwing his head back. He adjusted himself, moving so he was laying on his back. You were kneeling between his legs, a hand gripping his cock as you licked up his length. You took the tip into your mouth and he bucked his hips in response. 

You moaned, taking as much as you could into your mouth, hand pumping the rest. You bobbed your head, moaning at the velvety skin as your tongue swirled around him. You teased his tip, before taking him as deep as you could. His hand found its way to your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He held your head, thrusting into your mouth and groaning as he hit the back of your throat. You fought back the urge to gag, trying your hardest but he was assaulting your mouth with his harsh thrusts.

Chan stopped his thrusts, holding your head in place as he was deep in your throat. After a few seconds, he released you, making you cough. You swallowed as you collected yourself, drooling a little along his cock.

“Get your ass up here.” he grunted, gesturing for you to move your body around. You moved awkwardly, unsure what he wanted. 

He grabbed your hips, moving you to sit on his face. He dove in, slurping up your juices once more. You moaned out, gripping his thighs as you tried to support yourself. His angry tip was in your face so you leaned down and took it back in your mouth. You wanted to taste him - to make him cum in your mouth.

You bobbed your head, stroking and sucking as you brought him closer to release. He was already on the verge, your warm mouth too inviting. He was trying with all his might to hold back, focusing on making you cum again instead.

You slid one hand down, curiously rubbing his balls. He jerked into your mouth and you realize you found a sweet spot. You began rubbing and squeezing them, making him groan into your pussy. He was on the verge of cumming, his focus drifting from your pussy to his need to spill inside you. He reached a hand up, thrusting two fingers inside you. 

You clenched around them, moaning on his cock as he continued sucking your clit. Your legs begin to shake as your orgasm hits you hard. You gush around his fingers, gripping the sheets with your free hand. You start to come down, resuming your tease of his cock. You lick the tip, focusing on the slit before plunging him deep in your mouth. 

He was so close, aching for release so badly that he began thrusting. You gripped your hand tightly around the base of his cock to give it friction as he moved. Soon, he was spilling into your mouth. You could feel it hit the back of your throat, moaning at the salty taste. You swallow it all, still bobbing your head.

He smacks your ass, making you squeal. 

“Good girl.” he says, pushing you to the side.

You fall onto your back and he’s plunging his fingers into you again. Your back arches and he curls them. You whine, needing more than his fingers.

“Channie…more…”

“More what, baby?”

“More…you…” it was all you could manage.

He chuckles. “Give me one more, yeah?”

He thrusts rapidly, his thumb pressing into your clit. You could feel yourself building up yet again at his expert fingers. His other hand reached up and gripped your neck as he sucked on your nipples. It was all so much, your eyes squeezed shut as you held onto his arm.

You groaned, reaching your climax and closing your legs around his hand. He could still move, prolonging your high as he did and watching you lose yourself. Your body tensed, eyes rolled back as you trembled.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so beautiful like this.” he panted.

Your chest heaved as you opened your eyes to look up at him. A lazy smile spread across your face and he leaned down to kiss your lips.

He wasted no more time, his cock still so hard and leaking. He lined up with your entrance, pushing his big cock into you. You moaned his name loudly as he stretched you out. You squirmed, feeling so full. He was only halfway in before slowly pulling out and pushing back in again. Each time he pushed back in, he goes a little deeper. 

“Mmmm, Channie…” you moan.

The drag of his cock each time felt so amazing. You could feel every ridge and vein, massaging you just right. He moved to straddle one of your legs as he held the other up to his chest. He thrusted into you, picking up speed and making you moan louder. Your grip on the sheets was turning your knuckles white. He felt so amazing - you felt so amazing. You felt so full, clenching around his cock and making him groan. 

Your orgasm was building fast, making you moan his name. You reached for him and he intertwined your fingers, pushing them down beside your head. As he leaned forward, pushing your leg down to you, he hit deeper. The orgasm came flooding through you, your walls squeezing Chan’s cock.

He grunted, slowing his movements as he watched you in awe. He peppered kisses all over your face as you came down. 

“Fuck, Chan…”

“We’re not done yet, beautiful.” Chan says. “Let me see that ass.”

You sit up as he lays back on the pillows. You move to straddle him, ass facing towards him. He smacks your ass, leaving a large red print. Then he takes his cock and rubs it through your folds. You moan.

He lines himself up and you sink down on him, making him bite his lip. You grind on him and he squeezes your cheeks. He spreads them open, watching the way you grip him as you move up and down. Watching his cock disappear into your tight heat has him ready to sell his soul. He will never get over this moment. Never tire of this view.

You roll your hips, circling as you squeeze him, milking him. 

“Fuck, you keep doing that and I’ll fill you up.” 

“Yes…want your cum..please alpha.”

“Fuuuckkk” he says, gripping your hips tight, thrusting up into you.

After a few thrusts, he’s spilling inside you. You hum in satisfaction, learning that he likes when you call him that. You keep rolling your hips and he reaches up to pull your arms back. You lean back, laying on top of Chan. He lifts up on his heels and thrusts up into you. His hands were gripping your breasts, playing with your nipples as he did.

“Yes…ugh fuck.” you groan.

Chan slips from your heat and you feel some of his cum drip out. You reached down and collected some on your finger, sucking it clean. You groan at the taste and Chan throws you off him. 

“Fuck, you like how I taste, baby?” He asks, lining up with you from behind.

He slams into you, setting a brutal pace that has you practically screaming his name. His cock was still hard, still not done with you.

“Chan….Channie, fuck.” you moan, dropping your head.

He smacks your ass a few times, making it red and raw before gripping your hips again. He was so smitten with you, lusting over you and your perfect body. He leaned down, bodies flushed together as he continued thrusting into you. His hand gripped your throat as he kissed across your upper back. 

He leaned up, bringing you with him as he thrusted up into you. Your head rested back on his shoulder, your breasts bouncing with his thrusts. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your neck slid up your side and gripped your breast. He had you pinned, flush with his body and his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. He was so big, it was impossible for him not to.

You held onto his arms, body shaking as you reached another climax. You had lost count at this point, too lost in the feeling of Chan. He stretched you amazingly, his body fitting with yours as if made for each other. Of course, he would say you were and that’s why you’re soulmates.

“Such a good girl.” he growls in your ear, nibbling on your lobe.

He releases you, letting you fall forward onto your hands, and thrusts into you. He pokes your tight ass with his finger, thrusting it in and out a bit and you shudder. 

“Mmmm.. Chan” 

“Little birdie told me you like that.” he teases.

You nod your head yes, eyes closed as you feel him twitch inside you. Suddenly he pulls out and you whine. He flips you over, a little close to the edge and you feel yourself slipping. He laughs, as you slide and laugh along with him. He catches you by the legs only to get inspired by this new found position.

He comes over, pushing your legs towards you. You're folded, leaning up against the bed as he steps over you. Squatting, he pushes himself down into you. His thighs flex as he moves up and down, thrusting into you at a new angle. God, he was hitting deep like this. How is that possible? You groan, the blood rushing to your head. 

“You see that, baby? See how I fill you up?” Looking up at where his cock disappeared into you, you could see a bulge in your lower belly that moved with him. He was so big, you could see him through you. It was so hot, you reach up and start teasing your clit. You moan and he feels you tensing around him. Your orgasm approaching once more, you squeeze your eyes shut. How many times was he going to make you cum?

He slips from your pussy, putting your legs over his thighs and reaching down to lift you off the ground. You wrap your arms around his neck as he does with ease and grace. He holds you up, lining up with you entrance and lowering you on his dick.

Slamming his hips into yours, he pounds your pussy as he holds you up in the air. His hands were gripping your cheeks, occasionally slapping them.

“Ahhh….fuck.” you pant. “Channie…”

Your bodies were sweaty but you couldn’t care less as you held onto him for dear life. All you could hear over your pounding heart was the skin slapping echo in the room. You leaned back as he continued his assault. You were seeing stars as you felt your orgasm building again.

He walked over towards the wall as he moved his hands under your arms, lifting you up higher. You were a little unsteady, leaning against the wall for support as he pushed your legs onto his shoulders. His face was buried in your folds, licking and sucking.

You moan his name, one hand gripping his hair and tugging. He groans into your pussy, the vibrations making you shudder. Your other hand was above your head, bracing the wall. Your legs were gripping his head tight but he didn’t care. He relished in the feeling as he would happily die between your legs.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” you manage to squeak out before your orgasm knocks into you. “Ahhhh”

You could bald him with the grip you had on his hair, your body shaking violently as you come undone. Panting, he lowers you, bringing you back to the bed. He lays you down, kissing up both inner thighs and licking a strip between your folds. You shiver, so sensitive from all the times you’ve came. The heat within was cooling off and you could feel the exhaustion sneaking up on you.

Chan slipped into you again, his cock still hard and begging to fill you with more of his cum. He began slow thrusts, savoring the moment as he caressed your face, kissing you passionately.

You could feel how sweaty his body was, a few drops from his face dripping onto yours. He cocooned you under him, rocking into you as he kissed and nipped at your neck and collarbone. 

“I need you to be mine.” he whispers between kisses.

“I am yours.”

“Officially…” he looks deep into your eyes and you know what he means.

You offer your neck to him, opposite of Minho’s. He kisses up and down, finding your sensitive spot. When you shudder, he locks in, licking and nibbling.

You moan his name, holding him close to you. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping his strokes short and deep inside you. He kisses you as he thrusts, leaning into the crook of your neck and grazing his teeth along your skin.

“Alpha…” you whine.

Instinct takes over, his eyes glowing a strong amber color as he sinks his teeth in. Your back arches, orgasm triggered as his mark imprints on you. He holds his bite, letting the mark settle as his hips move faster. Your body trembles beneath him, eyes rolled back as a wave of euphoria washes over you. 

Feeling the bond take hold, you feel a deep connection to Chan. The same level as Minho’s but stronger. You felt like you were floating, limbs numb as he continued rutting into you. His hands blindly found their way to yours, interlacing your fingers and moving them above your head. With a growl, he spilled into you, deep inside. It was So. Much. Cum. 

As he continued rutting, his cock finally softening, his cum began to spill out the sides. You were so warm and wet inside, he didn’t want to pull out. He released his hold on your neck, licking and kissing your mark delicately. You shivered at the touch, the skin sensitive. 

Blood trailed down your shoulder onto the sheets, but that was a mess for later. He peppered kisses back up to your lips, kissing you. You could barely open your eyes, lids heavy as the weight of a True Alpha’s mark settled onto your body. The strength you shared through the bond was slowly spreading through you.

He leaned up, looking down at you. He loved every inch, curve, and imperfection of you. You were his completely and he wouldn’t let anything or anyone separate you two again. He pulled out, watching his cum spill out of you. You whimpered as he kissed your temple before standing. 

You were laying sprawled on the bed, too exhausted to move. Chan snuck away to the master bathroom and quickly wiped himself off. He turned on the bath and let the warm water rise. He put some epsom salt and bubble solution in, grabbing a rag and towels and putting them on the stool next to the bath. 

Then he came back to your room and scooped you up. You barely registered as he carried you to his room. He came into the bathroom and stepped into the tub, slowly lowering the two of you. He placed you in between his legs and the water made you stir. 

Your eyes fluttered briefly.

“Shh…it’s okay, baby. I got you.” Chan kissed your temple. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

“Mmmm,” was all you could manage, leaning back into him.

He turned off the faucet and grabbed the rag from the stool. He dunked it into the water and carefully cleaned near your mark. You whimpered but didn’t wake. After he cleaned it up, he cleaned between your folds. You gripped his arm, brows furrowed, but eyes still closed.

He figured you must still be sensitive after the morning’s sexcapades. Looking over at the clock, he realized you two had probably been at it for hours. He finished cleaning the two of you up and drained the water, spraying you down before wrapping you in the towel. He picked you up and brought you to bed, drying you off. After he dried himself off, he curled up next to you and dozed off as well.

It was a couple hours later when Changbin stepped into the room. He wasn’t hit with the overpowering smell of your heat or Chan’s rut so he proceeded inside. He came over to Chan and nudged him awake.

“Hmmm?”

“We made dinner. You want to eat?”

“No.” Chan mumbled, half asleep.

Changbin shrugged, leaving the room. Seungmin glared at him.

“What?” Changbin asked.

“You barely tried.” Seungmin noted.

“He was barely awake.”

Seungmin shook his head, walking away.

It was the dead of night when Chan finally woke up. He looked over to see your sleeping form. You were sleeping so peacefully. You were so cute, 

he leaned over and kissed your cheek, to which you didn’t even move. He felt your pulse and checked your breathing before slipping from the bed and going into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, finding leftovers from dinner he knew the boys had left. He made himself a plate, heating it up.

“Hey.” said a voice, making him jump.

“Hey.” Chan smiled, pulling Hyunjin into a hug. “What are you doing up?”

“I’ve been checking on you two all evening.” Hyunjin shrugged.

“Really? Why?”

“You two fucked for hours and then went back to sleep. You didn’t even eat which worried us all. So I was making sure everything was okay. I didn’t know if being in your rut while she’s in heat was dangerous.”

“It can be, but we are okay. I didn’t hurt her.” Chan said, taking his food from the microwave.

Hyunjin nodded.

Chan moved over, rubbing Hyunjin’s shoulders and earning a smile. Hyunjin leaned into his alpha’s touch, Chan kissing his temple. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I was just tired and worried.”

“We are okay. She’s resting right now. But she will wake soon. You should get some sleep.”

Hyunjin nodded. 

“Goodnight.” Chan smiled, hugging his mate.

Hyunjin laid his head on Chan’s shoulder, hugging him back briefly before shuffling off to bed. Chan sat at the table, eating his food. He was ravenous and the food was so delicious. He scarfed it down and fought the urge to go back for more.

Instead, he came back to bed and checked on you. You were still resting, but he wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else. He went into Felix’s room and woke him gently. Felix woke up in a panic but Chan calmed him down.

Felix came in, checking on you and calming Chan’s worries. He said you were fine, just resting off the heat and exertion. The mark also looked good but he suggested Doctor Quinn check her tomorrow.

With that, Chan nodded and curled back into bed. Felix, with a pout on his freckled face, asked if he could cuddle with the two of you. Chan allowed it, Felix cuddling your other side. And soon, they were asleep as well, the three of you resting in the large king bed.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @thatgirlangelb @fr34k4c1dr41n @stwq2349 @rylea08 @sang-09 @scarlet789 @hxnnielk @thecutiepieme @sillygoosegoose @ihttinniee @kaleigh-2002 @stvrrylove @tenshimara @bookswillfindyouaway

Shout out to my lovely beta @cherry-erii

[valeriianz]

well i HAVE to ask for some of the celebrity crush au 💌 🥺🙏😳

of course of course! <3

Hob tried not to think too hard about his look today. He knew Dream (shockingly, unbelievably) had a crush on him, but for some reason didn’t want him to be disappointed in what he saw. What if Dream took one look at him and realised Hob wasn’t what he thought? What if the real thing didn’t compare to whatever Dream was making up in his mind? And why did Hob care at all? Perhaps, because… Dream was. Well. Dream.  Hob wasn’t blind. Dream was beautiful. Hob was sure the lavish lifestyle Dream undoubtedly lived in helped, what with top of the line skin products and a dietician to make sure he stayed healthy and youthful. Whatever other products Dream used in his hair, on his straight, perfectly white teeth, even down to his nails– clean and pretty, cuticles invisible, usually covered in varnish that matched with whatever expensive outfit he was wearing that day.

make me write!

[muttcvnt]

your pet has been so very well behaved lately, so you promise her a special, lavish night out in the very near future. she hardly thinks she deserves it, but you insist she does.

when your next outing together lands you at the closest dive bar, you can tell she’s disappointed. you tend to keep your promises and this is far from special. still, you buy her drinks like usual and like the lightweight she is, if she even notices that you stop after one she doesn’t think to question it. she definitely doesn’t notice when you slip something in her drink.

your friends have always been jealous of you for having such a pretty pup, living vicariously through the stories you tell them about how she’ll let you do anything to her. so, when you manage to haul her back to your apartment, limp and incoherent, they’re all snapping at the bit to take their turn with her. they’ve taken the term “plus one” pretty loosely. you see friends of friends, friends of those friends and so on. you’d worry if you didn’t have such a reputation as a mean guard dog. and anyway, cash is cash.

nobody lays a finger on her until they pay up. nobody leaves a mark on her, the promise that there would be hell to pay for it looming over them. beyond that, most things are fair game. with your supervision, they take turns stretching her ass out and filling her with fingers, toys, and their own cocks until everyone’s had a turn. she’s a mess by the time they all head out, and she murmurs nonsense blearily as you clean her up in the shower and put her to bed.

she gets a day to rest and recover while you mercilessly tease her about going too hard at the bar. she knows she can’t hold her liquor and you can’t believe she’d black out like that. she’s embarrassed, but she’ll live. the next day, you surprise her with a new dress, shoes, and makeup before taking her out to the nicest restaurant in town. this time she really insists she doesn’t deserve this all, especially after embarrassing herself at the bar like that.

you promise she’s earned it.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

2 goals for willy styles against the isles!! (hehe that rhymes 🤣)

can we get a fic or blurb about celebrating his goals 🤩

literally writing a blurb only because the isles won 😂 as much as i love willy, i need an isles win even more, but ANYWAY onto the smut!

it’s a tradition that you and william “celebrate” his goals in some way. usually it’s a post game blow job or you let him pick the position and do what he wants with you

when he scores two against the islanders, even though it ends up being a toronto loss, you text him and tell him that it’s his choice tonight - he gets to pick the goal celebration

back at home, william’s still fully clothed when he has your naked and bent in half on the bed, cunt dripping with arousal. your knees are practically at your ears and his head is between your thighs, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming

he’s lapping up your arousal like he’s dying of thirst, his hips moving as he ruts into the mattress while you come all over his face

“good girl,” he praises you, biting the inside of your thigh and licking at the come that drips out of your entrance. “i think you can do better though”

he wants you to squirt for him

you’re a trembling mess on the bed, william’s clothes are gone and he’s flipped you onto your stomach so he can lift your hips into the air and finger you for a few minutes until you’re nice and soaked for his cock to slide right in with no resistance

a wail rips out of your mouth when he plunges into you, bottoming out in two quick, smooth strokes. his fingers keep steady pressure on your clit and the head of his cock batters your g-spot.

“feels so good, älskling,” william groans, draping his chest over your back to change the angle and get deeper. you clench around him and he grunts into your hair, pinching your clit and driving his hips into your ass

you chant his name, sobbing into the pillow with each heavy thrust of his cock into your cunt. pleasure coils tight in your stomach and it doesn’t take too much more for him to give you a second orgasm, your cunt spasming around his cock. you didn’t squirt though and william clicks his tongue, cock still hard and thick inside of you

“älskling, love, i scored two goals tonight,” he coos, stroking down the line of your spine. “that second one was a beauty, right? now be a good girl for me and get messy. i know you can squirt, you’re so good at it”

you whine and wriggle under him, overwhelmed and sore. everything feels swollen and the hard press of william’s cock against your g-spot is making you see stars. “n-no more. i can’t,” you shake your head and william wraps his hand around your hair, tugging a little so your back arches

“you can, you’re so good. give me one more, remember it’s my goal celebration,” he replies, voice hoarse. his hips snap against your ass, flesh jiggling, and you scream his name when you come a third time, gushing around his cock and soaking the mattress and his lower stomach. william comes inside you a few strokes later, grunting into your hair and stroking your hip

you’re both spent after that, flopped on the mattress to catch your breath before going to clean up. william’s come is leaking out of you, dripping down the curve of your ass and he drags his fingers through the mess lazily, smearing it on your thighs and stomach. he yawns, adrenaline from the game and sex finally wearing off, and mutters, “gonna put a baby in you on my next multi goal night. that’s what i want for the celebration, okay, älskling? gonna put a baby in you and watch you get soft and round with my kid.”

a little squeak forms in the back of your throat and your hips twitch up into his touch, your body not entirely opposed to the idea

[wandering-pirate]

Permanent Eclipse

Summary: We saw it all happen from Jimmy's eyes, but what was going through the dying intern's mind during his final moments?

Words: 1.5k

Tags: Angst, heavy angsty angst

TW: Character deaths and gore (mouthwashing being mouthwashing)

a/n: i was inspired (tortured) by this tiktok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS62aWV9h/

He screwed up. Again.

One chance to redeem himself from all the headaches he caused the whole crew - all down the drain. One chance to save Anya, the person who treated him like a sibling - gone. One chance to make the man he looked up to proud... how he wished to see Swansea smile at something he did, with genuine pride. He'll never be able to see that.

Daisuke's irregular breathing was filling the whole room up, loud and uneven, like the chaos in his head. Regret. Self-loathing. Guilt. And gosh, Anya. He never saw something so empty in his life. Her eyes that used to look at him with warmth and care, were now cold voids.

The gut-clenching pain of the scene twisted harder than his raw and oozing wounds. It didn't matter though, because the only person that could heal him was now sitting lifeless before him. And it was all his fault.

The loud banging of the medbay door snapped him out of his daze. The reason why he climbed the vent came back to him and he limped towards it. The second the lock clicked under his trembling hands, his legs crumpled.

“Hey bud, I got you! What happe--”

“Anya... Anya, she-- she’s--”

One look. Daisuke's brows furrowed, stunned by how the co-pilot didn’t even spare a glance at the nurse's body. His focus solely on finding a spot to lean the wounded intern against.

“I know, I know. Let’s get you cleaned up first, alright?”

Jimmy's arms steadied him, but all the young man could look at was the face of their substitute captain. His pressed lips, the prominent line between his brows, his clenched jaw. Daisuke winced at the pure disappointment silently radiating from him.

He shivered at the cool metal wall Jimmy placed him on. Having a clear view of Anya... and goodness, he forgot about their bandaged captain. What hit him hard was seeing Curly's wide eye transfixed at her, tears were flowing in one continuous stream.

"This might sting, Daisuke, but it'll disinfect your wounds, alright? Just hang in there, bud"

When the mouthwash hit his open flesh, he barely flinched. The sting being a distant feeling perceived by his hazy mind. Receiving the harsh treatment from the co-pilot's hands, Daisuke could not even react. Jimmy worked quickly, but the boy's gaze was glued to Anya. Just lying there. A corpse. Maybe… maybe she wasn’t gone.

Yeah! That's it. Anya was just showing how Swansea and he have acted the past few days with their mouthwash alcoholism. She was just proving a point, right? Just making him have a taste of his own medicine. She'll get up. She'll stop the charade after knowing that Daisuke's hurt... She wasn’t really…

"She's dead, Daisuke. Let's focus on patching you up"

Jimmy cut through him like death's scythe. Cold and unforgiving. His mind wondered why the co-pilot was nonchalant with the whole thing. Maybe he blamed him. There's nothing Jimmy could do because Daisuke failed to save her.

He never even realized how his vision blurred from the tears. Hearing the words he kept denying himself shattered him. Dead. Of course she's dead. And it's all his fault.

His wounds made even the lightest of breaths a battle, the nauseating smell of metal mixed with sweet mint. The guilt clawed at his guts, unforgiving, unrelenting. It was all too much. His body was shutting down.

The last thing he remembered was Jimmy swearing and shouting his name. Yeah, he deserved that, every nasty word thrown at him, he'd take it.

When he woke, he didn’t feel any better. If anything, it was worse. Heat and excruciating pain throbbed under his wounds, radiating out like fire while the rest of him shivered uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body screamed, yet all he could think about was the heavy presence sitting beside him.

Swansea.

Daisuke froze. He wasn't ready to face the man he looked up to. Couldn’t meet the mechanic’s eyes. Daisuke wasn't a shy one nor was he an introvert, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was to dig himself a grave. To hide. To be forgotten. To just.. disappear.

Jimmy’s disappointment was already too much; Swansea’s would destroy him. Daisuke's eyes were closed but his ears were definitely not, and his lips trembled after hearing the older man sigh, deep and gravelly.

"What were you thinking?"

Soft. Too soft. Was it pity? Is it rage masked with calmness? Daisuke panicked. Swansea never used this tone. He yelled, barked orders, always had sarcastic quips. But, not this. This calmness was worse. This calmness meant his mentor had abandoned all hope on him.

"I-I'm sorry..." Daisuke meant it to be a steady apology, but it left his lips in a shaky whisper. He hated how pathetic he was being.

"Look, it ain't yer fault," Swansea rubbed his face. "If anyone is to blame, it's that ass actin' captain this whole damn time."

All those words fell into the fire, burnt into ashes. Daisuke wanted to believe him, but no. Every terrible decision, every wrong turn, it all led back to himself. Anya’s death. His wound. The infection eating away at him.

Every second was agony, it felt like running a marathon just by wiping his tears. Every movement, blades raking through his skin down to the bone.

The world dissolved into a haze, Swansea’s figure reduced to a shapeless blur. Each breath he took felt like dragging shattered glass through his already tired lungs. His thoughts twisted into knots he couldn’t untangle—tight, choking, blaming

It’s all my fault

Home. I just wanna go home. I can’t do this anymore

I should’ve been braver—no, smarter—why wasn’t I smarter? Why did I screw up again?

Anya, I’m sorry. Gosh, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this

I should’ve been stronger, faster. Maybe then… maybe then I could’ve saved you

Swansea… I let you down

Mom, I—Mom, I’m sorry. For everything. For being me. For not being the son you wanted

If only… if only I’d been better. Maybe then none of this would’ve happened

Jimmy and Swansea were arguing but it all blurred into a single incoherent mumble. Every word drifted into a distant echo with the boy's eyelids growing more and more heavy.

For the second time, Daisuke lost consciousness, his body succumbing to the pain. Even in his dreams, his guilt followed him. Denying him rest, plaguing him with nightmares.

His vision blurred after returning to consciousness. His sight flickering in and out of focus. After having some clarity, his eyes met the dull gray metal ceiling, a yellow blob sticking out on his peripheral. He's now reminded of the mechanic's presence. How much time has passed? Did the mechanic stay beside him after all his failures?

The infection, it had to be worse now. It wasn’t just the wound that was tearing at him—it was everything else, unrelenting tidal waves of nausea, the aching, feverish delirium that had him questioning whether he was awake or dreaming.

Daisuke tried to speak, but even a grunt felt like blades were cutting his throat. All he could do was lay there, pathetically, his body too weak to move. Too worn out to ask the mechanic for his forgiveness. It wasn’t just the wound anymore—it was his entire self getting split open from the inside.

He didn’t notice the way his body twitched and jerked. But Swansea saw it all—the tremors in his limbs, the shallow, uneven breaths, the thin sheen of fever-slick sweat on his skin. To anyone with two functional eyes, it was clear: Daisuke’s body was falling apart. Piece by agonizing piece.

"It's alright, Daisuke. Calm down."

The deep voice cuts through the fog. Again with his soft tone, but something was different this time. There was this quiet desperation in the way the gruff man spoke... Was that sorrow?

He opened his eyes, looking up to the mechanic. His senior was furrowing his eyebrows like he usually does, but his eyes. They were mourning.

"You coulda taught an old fool like me a lot"

Daisuke strained hard to understand all the words. He tamed his writhing body, steadied his breathing and kept his half-lidded eyes on Swansea. With every ounce of strength left, he fought to show the man that he was listening.

"Just a damn good kid tryin his best"

It dawned on him - sharp and cold. The man was saying his goodbyes.

"Close your eyes, Daisuke..."

The axehead was above Swansea's head now, and for a moment, Daisuke's thoughts scattered. Was Swansea really going to kill him? He knew he deserved it, but it somehow ached his whole being. It wasn't like the sharp pain from his wounds or the burning fever. It was a numb, suffocating, and heavy kind of ache that sucked him of all his strength.

But even now, with everything crumbling, the intern followed the mechanic's instructions. His lashes fluttered shut, pressing his unshed tears down his fevered cheeks.

Maybe, just maybe, if he got it right this time, he'd finally hear it:

"You did good, kid"

[hannahhook7744]

Chapter 2:

Trigger warnings: parents dropping the ball, deteriorating parent-child relationships, aforementioned love spells, stress anxiety, etc. Notes: Just for the record, this is canon divergent and takes place after d1. It takes some inspiration from the books (like the descendants yearbook, Spirt Book: Highlights and Memories, etc). But just know this: Doug apologizes to Evie for talking over her and not letting her explain herself to Mr. Deley and for following her to her meet up with Chad (relationships need communication to thrive, ya know). Mal apologizes for love spelling Ben and came clean about why she did it. The other three vks apologized for their part in it. Lonnie apologized for the spy cams in the school of secrets web series. Jane apologized for her comment to Mal. They all.. just apologized. Cause you know, it would have solved a lot of problems had that been done as soon as possible. Not saying I hate any of the kids– just some of their actions. I can’t say the same for some of the adults, however, Though I did give FG an ambiguous (implied) change of heart since my friend pointed out that she did seem to get better in d2. Maybe Beast and Belle will have a change of heart here too. Who knows.

🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄

Ben’s stomach churned at the silence his question was met with.

“Please mom? They really don’t have any other options this year and no one should be alone on Christmas. I know you don’t like how they’ve been acting lately but I promise they’re trying to change.” 

‘Not that it should matter’ Ben couldn’t help but think, feeling more than a little bitter at this point due to how his parents had been acting ever since his proclamation (or perhaps…even before then. Ben didn’t remember). 

He’d worked so hard to be their perfect little son all these years—the perfect prince who could be trusted to rule one day. But it didn’t matter because apparently his parents had never learned to trust him even though he had only ever given them one reason before his proclamation not to (and honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted his parents trust if all of this distrust was over him cutting up a stupid rose bush when he was eight).

It was beyond frustrating how little they seemed to trust him and how little they valued his boundaries, emotions, and opinions. It honestly made him want to scream but he couldn’t afford to do that. It would look bad to the public after all (who cared if it would make him feel better, right?).

Even Chad and Audrey—two people who had no reason to trust him after the last horrible year where he was basically putting them and his other friends on the back burner (something he would NOT be doing again if he could help)—trusted him more than his parents did. And they were trying to do better—genuinely trying. 

Which was more than he could say about his parents who were only trying in the same way they did with the media—aka avoiding the problem (aka the vks) and acting like they cared when they had to. Like when Ben was around. As if he was too stupid to realize that as soon as he was out of their line of sight that they reverted back to their ‘children of villains are evil and not just misguided’ bullshit. As if he were too stupid to tell the difference between a media smile and a real smile.

Like he hadn’t learned how to fake a smile for the camera before he could even talk.

Ben didn’t understand why his parents couldn’t just try.  

Why couldn't they just admit they were wrong to leave the kids on the isle and apologize like Ben and his friends (the vks included) had all done when they realized they had all wronged each other in some way? 

Why did his parents have to act more like teenagers than Ben and his friends did?

“I’m… not sure that’s such a good idea, sweetheart. Why can’t they just go home with their families?”

Ben tried to ignore the flicker of irritation he felt at the tone she had used—the tone she and his dad always used when they thought he was being unreasonable or stupid. Their ‘I’m sure there’s another way we’ll like much more that you just haven’t thought of yet’ voice. 

The voice he had hated ever since he had first heard it when he was eight. 

His irritation probably wasn’t helped by the fact that he had already explained WHY each of them couldn’t before he had even asked the question.

It felt like she never listened to what he had to say anymore. Her and dad both. 

Ben hated it. 

He hated that he had started to view his parents as if they were enemies instead of the people who were supposed to be on his side and love him no matter what. But he had. He wasn’t sure when  their dynamic had changed but he had a few good guesses.

Maybe it started when Ben made his proclamation and his dad didn’t even try to hear him out before getting mad. 

Maybe it started with his dad’s griping about how many of his snack cakes he had to give up after Ben stood up for himself against the council of sidekicks when they were yelling at him for things that weren’t his fault.

Maybe it had shifted after he broke from the love potion and realized his parents never realized he was even under one. 

Maybe it had shifted only after CJ Hook kidnapped him and his parents never called to see if he was alright.

Maybe it had started to shift all the way back when he cut that rose bush.

Or it could have all shifted because of family day.

Family Day. 

A disastrous affair he’d never forget. 

(“Well, I never wanted to say anything, but I always thought that Audrey was a little self-absorbed. A fake smile, kind of a kiss-up.” his mother said as if he hadn’t willingly been friends with Audrey since they were just kids. As if their scrap books weren't filled with pictures of the two of them and all their other friends together.

His parents looking uncomfortable when he told them Mal was his girlfriend and how his mother fainted when she thought he couldn’t see her.

“I feared something like this would happen.” His dad said after Leah yelled at Mal and Evie knocked Chad out to defend herself and the others. 

“This isn't their fault!” He remembered saying pleadingly—silently begging everyone but mostly his parents to understand. 

“No, son. It's yours.”

“Mom?”

They walked away from him. 

They left him standing there alone—torn between running after them, checking on Chad, and running after Mal  and the others. 

Coach Jenkins was the only one who bothered to check on him afterwards and his parents didn’t answer his calls until coronation came up. He had never felt so alone….).

Ben’s hands started to shake at the memories. He could feel the eyes of Mal and the others on him and forced himself to continue. “You know what, mom. Nevermind. I’ll just stay at the school with Chad and Audrey this year for christmas. “

His mother started to protest but Ben didn’t care and cut her off “Tell pépé , Tante Clarice, and the staff I said Merry Christmas. And Give Charley, Philippe, and Orson a kiss for me. Bye mom.” 

He quickly hung up and put his phone on do not disturb before she could argue.

“Uh…You okay dude?” Jay asked, fidgeting slightly. “Do I need to fight your parents?”

Ben laughed weakly. “Nah, man. It’s okay. I just… need a moment.”

Jay didn’t look convinced but chose not to say anything. Instead sharing a concerned look with Carlos and the girls as they all waited for Ben to calm down.

Eventually—after collecting himself—Ben did and then he started to—for lack of a better word—scheme.

“Sooooo… Who’s up for a little mischief.” 

Immediately Carlos raised his hand, like he done his first day in Remedial Goodness 101. “Oooo me! Me!” 

Jay quickly elbowed him, raising his own hand. Almost leaping into the air in an attempt to hold his hand up higher than the younger boy. “No me!”

“I could go for some mischief. Especially if you’re encouraging it” Mal said, smiling slightly as she shrugged. 

Evie just shrugged “As long as we don’t get caught, I’m game.”

Ben let out a small chuckle before clapping his hands together “alright! That’s just what I wanted to hear. So here’s what we’re gonna do—”

Saving Christmas!

Summary; Ben finds out why Chad and Audrey aren't going home for Christmas this year and decides that he's going to save Christmas for his old friends. Takes place around d1. Trigger warnings; mentioned death, unintentional neglect, emotional abuse, sick child, unintentional favoritism, sick child, etc.

🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄

"Hey what are you guys doing for Christmas break this year?" Ben asked one day over lunch. 

It was a particularly wintery December 1st when the question was asked and Jane, Doug, Lonnie, and four very excited vks answered almost immediately. 

Mal and Jane were going to the Moors with FG to celebrate it.

Doug and Evie were going over to Snow White's castle with his family to celebrate.

Lonnie and Jay weren't celebrating but still had plans. 

Lonnie was going home to visit her family. 

Jay was going to Agrabah after being invited to by Aziz and Jordan. 

And Carlos was going to be spending it in London with the Radcliffes after their niece, Amber, had sent him an invite. 

After sharing that his grandfather was coming over to celebrate it with him, Ben noticed something.

Audrey and Chad had been eerily silent for the conversation. 

And looking back, it didn't take Ben long to realize that Chad hadn't spoken much all morning. 

"What about you two? What are you doing?" The brunette asked, shooting the two a sweet smile.

Thinking that they were just getting put off by the new group dynamics again. After all, it did take some getting use to —going from a tight knit group of six friends to ten almost overnight. 

And Chad always did have trouble warming up to new people. 

"Uh, we... aren't celebrating this year" Audrey replied, uncharacteristically awkward when it became apparent that Chad wasn't going to. 

The blonde hadn't looked up from his tray to acknowledge any of them since they sat down and was just playing with his food, looking downtrodden.

The amount of prunes, chocolate pudding, and pizza on his plate had stayed the same despite the fact that lunch was nearly over. His pumpkin spice latte hadn't been touched either. 

Ben couldn't help but feel concerned now that he noticed it. After all, the prince never turned his favorite foods down but here he was. Doing just that. 

And the fact that he and Audrey now apparently weren't celebrating Christmas—THEIR FAVORITE HOLIDAY—either was just worsened the concern he felt. 

Apparently he wasn't the only one feeling that way either. 

"WHAT?!" Jane yelped, "but you guys love Christmas!"  

"Yeah. What's going on?" Doug added. 

He and Chad had slowly began repairing their friendship after Ben's coronation after Chad had apologized to all of them for his behavior over the year. Plus their families usually spent Christmas together since Snow White was Chad's (non-fairy) godmother. 

No one had mentioned anything about plans changing to him. 

Audrey gave them a tired look– as if almost asking 'really?' Before sighing and halfway giving in to their questions. 

"Grammy is still upset that Ben and I didn't work out, Ariana is smug about it and has a new prince boyfriend, and my parents, aunt, uncle, and fairy Godmothers are too busy to attend this year. And since I really don't feel like being criticized over every little thing this year with no one there to buffer it, I've decided to stay at school with Chad."

No one was quite sure how to react to her snappish response. But the vks– Evie especially– looked downright murderous. But instead of commenting after a few painfully long silent moments, Jay decided to prod some more. 

"And you can't just celebrate with Chad, why?"

Audrey shot the thief a harsh glare, confirming everyone's suspicions that she had been avoiding the question, before begrudgingly answering. "Because Chad has absolutely no motivation to decorate because this will be his first Christmas without his grandfather, Prudence, and Duke who died before the school year started since before he was adopted." 

Ben got a sinking feeling in his stomach as he glanced over at his oldest prince friend. Oh. Oh.  

Oh no. 

Suddenly the pudding on his own tray didn't seem as appetizing anymore. 

Surely he hadn't gotten so caught up in his kingly duties that he had forgotten to check in on his fellow prince to see if he was doing alright? And surely he had checked in on Audrey after the love spell wore off? 

Looking back at the events of the school year and Chad's and Audrey’s behavior made him realize that he had, in fact, dropped the ball on this one. But before he could say anything, Doug spoke up. 

"But, uh, why isn't Chad going home? Not that I don't understand he's upset—" he said quickly after the hard stare the princess gave him—"It's just that he and his family usually spend the holiday at Aunt Snow's with my family and Jane's, and besides Fg and Jane, no one's mentioned a change in plans."

Audrey gave a long sigh. "Doug, his sister has a heart condition, remember?"

He nodded, likely wondering—like the rest of them were—what Chloe had to do with anything. 

Audrey continued.

"Well, because of that, it's dangerous for her to get sick because it can weaken her heart more. So their parents decided that with the Pixie flu going around that it's best that they stay home. And since Chloe is going to be in bed and his parents are probably gonna continue to try and get the Tremaines off the isle nonstop even more than they did before your proclamation the entire holiday, Chad decided it's best he doesn't return either. You know, since he could get his sister sick and will probably just get overlooked while he's there. "

Doug caught on "which also means that we can't visit them at the castle cause we could get Chloe sick if we do. And Chad doesn't want to make Chloe feel bad by going anyway."

Ben swallowed. 

He hadn't thought about that.  

Suddenly Chad behavior paired with his unkempt hair and him still being in pajamas made much more sense. 

Chad was feeling forgotten again. And this time, only Audrey had been around to try and keep him out of it. 

It was like Chloe being born all over again, except this time no one had caught onto how he was feeling and people had actually died.  

And Audrey had been suffering in silence alongside him.  

He had to fix this. 

For both of them. 

So he said the first thing that came to mind "why don't you two come and celebrate it at my place?" 

Everyone stared at him like he'd grown another head. 

Chad looked up and Ben felt even more confident in his decision.

"Ben, I don't think that's a good idea," Audrey replied softly. 

"Why not? It's not like you haven't stayed at our place before."

"Your parents hate us."

Ben shook his head. "That's not true. Mom and dad love you guys and grandpa's been dyi–begging to see you two again. "

Audrey didn't know what to say to that and finally, Chad spoke up. 

"Well.... If you're sure they wouldn't mind, then we'd like that."

Ben grinned in response "I'm positive. Trust me."

The bell rang before the conversation could continue any further and as the group flooded out of the cafeteria, their moods lifted. 

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Big thanks to @eahravinqueen and @panthera-tigris-venenata for the help. Happy Holidays y'all.

[chiricat]

[photo added to the archives!] 🍡

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist