#i audibly choked on my shock
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who was gonna tell me that julie bowen (THE claire dunphy) is aware of milo manheim's existence
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AND THINKS HE'S HOT
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dairyfreenugget · 9 months ago
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(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)
Hey hey hey
May I interest you in
(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)
Teehee
#thylacines can talk#faaf au#i love this au very yummy. a very fun twist on how Flower's dynamic with their parents would progress afterwards#the vessels live but the void exits their bodies in quite a violent manner (extreme pain and literally throwing up an entire person worth of#void). Flower was on guard duty and theyre found barely conscious in a pool of rapidly evaporating void. passes out seconds later#PK also had the displeasure of experiencing extene pain and burning as void forced its way out through his skin <3 And his moulds all melted#and evaporated. after the initial shock wears off theyre hit with “Oh No#the vessel“ and rush to find them. Well somebody else was already looking for the royal pair about this#Flower wakes up dazed and in pain in their father's workshop. their stomach hurts their throat burns and they feel lightheaded. the entire#place is considerably brighter than they remember and in they can hear two faint voices in the background but theyre too preoccupied with#examining their now pure white hand in shock to focus on anything else. until they hear their mother say “My wyrm they're awake” and#suddenly their parents are by their side. Now the two have no idea what void leaving their body might have done to them. Are they still#hollow? are they still dead? do they understand anything are they sentient? or was what was done pernament even without the void? do they#have the mind of a child if their sentience was restored? or do they remember anything? So WL stays by their side and helps them sit up#while their father goes to grab his tools. She's trying to keep them calm and comfort them but theyre still too disoriented to pay her much#attention. Until their father checks their breathing and they yelp audibly from the cool metal contacting their skin and suddenly they seem#much more alert. theyve never experienced true coldness before. PK quickly apologises and tries to be gentler with them. Theyre breathing#properly and they have a heartbeat. And he just pauses for a long while just. listening to their heart beating. Many emotions to be had#after the exam's over he asks them point blank how theyre feeling. And Flower looks up at him still seeming a little disoriented. and then#they lower their hand to their stomach and mutter 'My tummy hurts...a-and my throat burns'. It's to be expected after the way the void#left their body. so he goes to grab them some water and meds and they also ask for food and a mirror. And after he returns they just stare#at themself in the mirror and pull on their bangs for a while then blurt out 'I have your eyes' when PK asks if everything's okay. And he#and he almost chokes up as he replies 'Yeah...Yeah you do'. Flower eventually spins a lie that they remember everything but its all distant#and blurry. Like they were not aware until now. They figured it'd be better to not break their hearts#And now the three have to figure out how to be a family while PK is also scrambling to find a new solution to the infection#oops i meant to only give a brief rundown in the tags which is why it was in the tags. but i got too invested KDHDKFB
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forsworned · 5 months ago
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Random shower thought:
What if you and Johnny were so close that it actually perplexes the 141. Like when you two share clothes and food, platonically cuddle up under blankets, and use each other's chapsticks because it's all the same to you guys, but they kinda leave you be about it.
So it's almost not even that shocking when you walk into the shower after Johnny finishes up. He's clad in his towel, barely hanging off his hips, combing out his mohawk and your eyes go straight to his Manscape electric shaver.
Your eyes drift to his happy trail. "You mind if I helped you with manscaping?"
Johnny cocks a brow and looks at you through the mirror, amusement written all over his features down to that Cheshire-like smile. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, you trust me?" You pick up the shaver and examine it, and then glance over at him.
"With my life."
"So?"
He unravels his towel and--
"Gol-ly! You are one hairy sonuvabitch!" You chuckle, taking a gander at his junk that seems to be lost in the 'bushel'. "I mean I knew you were hairy but dayum!"
"A'right! Ye said ye'd do it!!" He laughs, pulling up the washroom stool. You sit and get to work, both of you forgetting that the bathroom door is open. Of course, Simon is the first to pass by. He's not too surprised to hear the sound of an electric shaver while the washroom door is ajar in a male-dominated space. Hell, even you have your moments.
But he literally chokes on his ale when he sees what you two are up to.
"Bloody hell, you two." He grumbles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Hey there, L.t." Johnny toasts his water bottle at him before taking a swig himself.
Your head is the only thing saving Simon's eyes from seeing Johnny's junk and he's thankful for that.
"What's the matter?" Price's voice pipes up as he comes in the front door with Kyle, both holding bags of groceries. Simon doesn't say a word, causing Kyle and Price to share a look.
You simply shrug and go back to what you were doing. Curiosity gets the best of them and they get gander at what activity you two are engaging in.
"Jesus Christ." Price groans, trekking to the kitchen wanting absolutely no part in your shenanigans.
"Havin' fun there, y/n?" Kyle laughs, stuffing a opened bag of chips into his mouth.
You turn to him with a smile, "you see it's quite a hairy situation."
Simon and Price audibly groan while the rest of you share a laugh. Add that to the list of fuckery that goes on under the 141 household
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flwrstqr · 7 months ago
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𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU CRY DURING AN ARGUMENT ˒
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── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, angst imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1387 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, crying, them just arguing┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ felt a little angsty today 😈 ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]
! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡
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HEESEUNG (이희승)
as the argument escalates, you find yourself overwhelmed and tears start streaming down your face. heeseung, who had been raising his voice in frustration, suddenly freezes. his eyes widen as he processes the sight of your tears, and it hits him that he might have been too harsh. for a moment, he stands there, stunned and silent, before his expression softens.
"oh my god," he whispers, stepping closer to you. "i'm so sorry, angel. I didn't mean to raise my voice."
he gently reaches out, his hands trembling slightly as he cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. his eyes are filled with guilt and concern, his voice quiet and soft.
"please forgive me," he continues, his voice cracking a little. "I never wanted to make you feel like this. let's talk about this calmly, okay? i love you so much, and i hate seeing you cry."
rest of the members below !!
JAY (박종성)
as the argument heats up, your emotions overflow, and you begin to cry. jay's expression shifts immediately from frustration to guilt as he sees the tears streaming down your face. his eyes soften, and he quickly steps towards you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.
"hey, hey, don't cry, princess.." he murmurs, his voice full of regret and concern.
without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. he holds you tightly, as if trying to shield you from the hurt he caused.
"i'm so sorry," he whispers into your hair, his voice breaking slightly. "i didn't mean to make you cry. please forgive me."
jay gently rubs your back, trying to soothe you as he continues to apologize. he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes.
"i'll do anything to make it up to you," he says softly. "i never want to see you like this because of me. let's take a moment, calm down, and talk this through, okay?"
JAKE (심재윤)
in the heat of the argument, when your tears start to fall, jake immediately realizes he's gone too far. his eyes widen, and his expression shifts from anger to intense guilt. for a moment, he's frozen, speechless as he processes the sight of your tears. his mouth opens as if to speak, but no words come out; he's too overwhelmed by guilt.
jake steps closer to you, his hands trembling slightly. He reaches out, hesitates for a second, and then gently places his hands on your shoulders. his eyes are filled with regret, and his throat tightens as he struggles to find his voice.
"i'm... i'm so sorry," he finally manages to whisper, his voice barely audible.
seeing the pain in your eyes makes it even harder for him to speak. he feels a lump in his throat. he pulls you into a tight hug, holding you as if he's afraid to let go, trying to convey his apology through his embrace.
"i'm so sorry," he repeats, his voice choked with guilt. "i didn't mean to hurt you. please... please forgive me."
SUNGHOON (박성훈)
in the middle of the argument, when your tears begin to fall, sunghoon's expression turns from frustration to shock. he freezes, his eyes wide as he tries to process what he said that made you cry. the realization hits him hard, and he feels a wave of regret wash over him.
"wait...," he murmurs, his voice suddenly soft and full of concern.
sunghoon steps closer to you, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he hesitates for a moment, replaying his words in his mind, trying to understand how he hurt you. then, without another word, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, comforting embrace.
"i'm so sorry, baby," he whispers.
he kisses your tears away, his lips gentle against your cheeks. "i didn't mean to make you cry. please, forgive me."
Sunghoon holds you tightly, his touch tender and protective. he strokes your hair softly, continuing to kiss away your tears, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears of guilt and regret.
"i love you so much," he murmurs. "let's calm down and talk this through. i never want to hurt you like this again."
SUNOO (김선우)
as the argument intensifies and your tears start to fall, sunoo's expression shifts dramatically. he looks at you with wide eyes, immediately realizing the impact of his raised voice. his face is a mix of shock and guilt, and he quickly moves closer to you.
"oh my god, i'm so sorry," he exclaims, his voice filled with urgency and regret.
he reaches out, gently taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours "i shouldn't have raised my voice. i'm so, so sorry. i didn't mean to upset you."
sunoo starts rambling, his words tumbling out in a rush as he tries to convey just how sorry he is. "i didn't think, i was just so frustrated, but that's no excuse. i should have been more careful with my words. please, forgive me. i never wanted to hurt you."
He pulls you into a tight hug, his embrace warm and comforting. His hands softly stroke your back as he continues to apologize, his voice gentle and sincere.
JUNGWON (양정원)
as the argument escalates and your tears begin to fall, Jungwon's expression immediately changes from frustration to shock.his eyes widen, and his heart sinks at the sight of your tears. he freezes for a moment, trying to process what just happened and feeling a surge of guilt wash over him.
"oh no, please don't cry," he whispers, stepping closer to you with a look of deep concern.
without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. his hands gently stroke your back as he holds you tightly, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
jungwon places tender kisses on your forehead and cheeks, trying to soothe you. "shh, it's okay. I'm here," he murmurs between kisses. "i'm really, really sorry."
he continues to hold you, rocking you gently in his arms as he apologizes. "I shouldn't have let things get this far. I never wanted to hurt you. please forgive me."
RIKI (西村力)
in the midst of the argument, when your tears start to fall, riki's eyes widen in shock. he stands there, frozen, not quite sure how to react. the sight of your tears leaves him feeling helpless and remorseful, and he struggles to find the right words or actions to make things better.
for a few moments, he's silent, just staring at you, trying to process what he's seeing and feeling. then, he tentatively steps closer, his expression softening with guilt and concern.
"Y/N?" he says quietly, his voice uncertain but sincere. "look, I'm sorry for raising my voice. I didn't mean to."
riki hesitates, then leans in and gives you a quick, gentle kiss on the lips, hoping to lift your spirits even just a little. he pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mixture of apology and hope.
"i'm really sorry," he repeats, his voice more steady now. "i didn't want to make you cry. can we try to talk this out calmly?"
he reaches out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
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kaisturni · 7 months ago
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hands on me | c. sturniolo
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→ chris x fem!reader
→ plot; chris and y/n get into one of their usual screaming matches, but this one ends a little less usual than normal.
→ warnings; smut, fingering, swearing, f!oral (receiving), choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE), dirty talk, use of names (baby)
→ hi pretty lovies :) this is my first time writing a smut fanfic so PLSSS let me know if you guys like it, and if there are any requests, don’t hesitate to share! almost nothing is off limits ;) enjoy!
NOT PROOFREAD EEK
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y/n and chris had been in a screaming match all day.
from sunrise to the middle of the night, it's taken both nick and matt holding the two back so they don't entangle and kill each other.
"whatever," nick breaths, "i'm so fucking done with you guys. i know you don't get along but this is ridiculous."
"yeah" matt agreed, letting out a sigh. "i for one am tired as shit, try not to murder the other while we're asleep," the other two brothers pace back into their respective rooms, slamming the door one after another.
"great!" y/n starts, "who am i supposed to sleep with now, guaranteed they both just locked their doors." she whispered to herself.
"god, who cares? you could sleep on the street for all i fucking care." chris yells, watching y/n stand outside of nick's door, not daring to make an advance inside.
the girl shot daggers at him, "whatever chris, tell that to your fucking brothers, they're the ones who let me live here." y/n huffs out as she shoves chris full force out of the way, preparing for a sleep on the boy's couch. but before she can even reach the end of the hallway, chris grabs y/n by the throat and slams her against the wall.
y/n hits the wall, exuding air on impact, hands gripping onto chris', which has her easily pinned on to the wall.
"did you seriously just put your hands on me?" he said lowly, closing the distance between him and
y/n. the girls heart was racing at a mile a minute, unsure of what her actions would cause next. she was so confident yelling at chris frequently from across the room, but suddenly powerless in his grasp, she was, briefly, at a loss for words.
"yeah," y/n managed to grunt out. she had never been this close to chris before, let alone feel his body inches away from her own skin. his eyes were dark and low, jaw tight and sharp, his features barely illuminated in the light. as much as she hated him, she found him punishingly attractive.
"and what are you going to do about it?" she dared to whisper to him, trying to keep as much confidence in her tone as she could, not letting him see how much she withered under his touch.
from a few heavy breaths, y/n's throat still in his hand, he shoved her into his room and shut the door behind him. he flipped the two around so she was again back against the wall.
"what am i going to do about it?" he taunted, less than an inch between their bodies, breaths mingling and eyes locked in contact.
"you have no idea what i could do to your right now," chris spoke lowly, uninterested in letting his brother's hear the way he is speaking to the girl he supposedly wants to kill.
"if only you just kept that pretty little mouth shut, maybe i could've showed you sooner," his words faded out, his hand around her neck tightened slightly, as he brushed his lips against hers, earning a barely audible moan from the girl under his grip.
"chris" y/n managed to breath out, suddenly feeling a sense of neediness and wanting from him. is it bad she could be so turned on from how rough chris was being with her? she had never seen this side of him before, the side of him that she didn't think existed to her. before this he was ready to take her head off and so was she. but now she could feel the heat rising in her legs, and shocking her stomach, anticipating what was to come next.
"what? don't act like you don't want it, you think i can't tell that you do? look at you." chris taunted, gently using his teeth to tug on her bottom lip. y/n felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.
unknowing what came over her, y/n remarked back "oh, i'd want this. just not with you," she could see the anger growing in his face as she continued, "anyone could do whatever you'd do better." she knew what the words she was saying would lead her. she almost hoped chris got the message.
"is that so? i'll show you you're wrong." chris swiftly tossed y/n to the bed, pinning her down, yet again cementing their faces inches away from each other.
"you'll be begging me to do this more often when we're done," beginning to leave sloppy kisses against y/n's neck. "i'd destroy you,"
"so destroy me," y/n dared.
chris smiled against her skin, wet kisses becoming dark hickies all over her neck and jaw. his lips slowly moved down to her covered chest, frustrated with the fabric, he tugged on her shirt, signaling to take it off.
y/n sat up in the bed ripping her shirt over her head, his eyes meeting with her bare chest. "no bra, huh?" he said before claiming her right nipple in his mouth, kissing, sucking, and biting on it, and doing it harder with each moan he earned from her.
"i never wear one" she admitted, eyes screwed shut in the unexpected pleasure that chris sturniolo was bringing to her.
"i hope that's not the only thing you never wear," he said against her skin, kisses continuing down her body until he reached her inner thighs, with only a thin layer of fabric separating her core and his lips.
y/n gasped as he yanked her to the edge of the bed, making her wet shorts visible to him even in the dim light. he smirked looking up at her,
"fucking soaked," he said what she already knew, throwing her head back and screwing her eyes shut in anticipation, "chris, please." she begged, thinking how pathetic it was that the few words she was able to get out gave chris everything he wanted to hear in that moment, but she didn't care. 
"since you're begging for me," he taunted, taking off y/n's barely there sleeping shorts, taking in how perfect her core was dripping under the light, practically calling his name. never would he had anticipating being in this moment, but god he knew he was lying if he said he didn't think about it.
he teased her by trailing small kisses and nibbles against her inner thigh, making her wetter by the second. before y/n knew, he was licking and sucking down her slit, arms pushing her legs further into her chest to get even deeper.
gripping the sheets with white knuckles, y/n found it impossible not to scream his name as he stuck his tongue inside her, moaning against her pussy as the vibrations drove her closer to her high.
"chris i'm gonna cum," she said panting, edging him to keep going, not wanting the pleasure to stop as she found her hands tangled in his hair. but before y/n managed to reach her high, he pulled his face away from between her legs. mouth dripping with all her juices, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.
the two kissed each other hungrily, each fighting for dominance over the other, but chris ultimately won as he stuck to fingers inside of her, causing y/n to gasp, prompting chris to shove his tongue into her mouth.
"how am i supposed to hate you when i know your pussy is this good?" chris asked between sloppy wet kisses, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her, wetness leaking onto his bedsheets.
y/n could feel the knots tying in her stomach, signaling she was close, “c-chris i’m so fucking close,” she said absolutely breathless, weakly gripping his moving wrist.
his two fingers slowed their pace, and she whined at the loss of contact. y/n couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, in order to do something to stop the aching between her legs.
“not so fast,” chris said, peeling off his hoodie and sweats, leaving him in just black calvin klein underwear. “spread,” he demanded.
y/n obliged without hesitation, aching and ready for him to be inside her. chris used his thumb to rub her clit in circles, causing her to arch her back and moan in pleasure, chris could feel his dick aching to fuck her, but he wasn’t going to let her have it easily.
“c-chris please,” she begged, “please what, baby?-
baby?
-tell me,” he said, knowing exactly what she wanted from him, “please f-fuck me- shit,”
as soon as those words left her mouth, chris removed his underwear, his length springing up, leaking with pre-cum and burning with desire.
he ran the tip on y/n’s slit, groans exiting from both of their mouths. without warning, he slammed his entire length into her, causing her to gasp at the feeling.
tears ran down y/n’s cheek as she moaned out chris’ name and profanities at the pace that he was pounding into her,
“you look so pretty when i fuck you, baby,” he growled in her ear, “look at you, doing so good at taking all of me,” he said before sensually connecting their lips.
y/n had no words to say, only muffled sounds in between kisses coming out of her mouth from being completely fucked out by chris, and it didn’t take long for her to feel her orgasm coming back.
“oh, chris, i’m gonna cu-,”
“wait, you cum when i say, okay?” he said lowly, before quickening his pace, feeling his own climax coming too.
“i can’t take it, please let me cum,” y/n pleaded, feeling completely buzzed from all the sensation going in her body.
“cum baby, i’m right there too,” he breathed out, feeling her walls clench around him causing chris to explode inside her, filling her up at the same time she reached her own high.
chris pumped a few more times in and out of her, both groaning as he pulled his dick out of her, then falling on the bed next to the sexed out girl next to him.
the two looked at each other for a moment, and chris softly kissed her, finding his way to be on top of her again. he pulled their lips apart and ran a hand through her hair,
“why do we do this? i’m tired of hating you, why do you act like that with me?” y/n said, staring at chris’ piercing blue eyes above her. he sighed, “i really don’t know,” he started, “i guess the way i feel about you just made me angry for some reason. it always made me mad how close you are with nick and matt, and i guess i kept it up too long,” he admitted, playing with the ends of her soft hair.
“you should’ve just told me,” y/n retorted, placing a gentle hand on the side of chris’ face, and he nuzzled into it. “i know, and i’m sorry. can we be done with that, please?” he asked her, cautiously.
“of course we can,” y/n smiled. chris smiled back at her, connecting their lips once more.
“okay,” he began grabbing her hand, “let’s go get cleaned up. we can have another fight in the shower,” smiling deviously at her after making the statement.
y/n rolled her eyes at the boy, and quickly followed him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.
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astralnymphh · 8 months ago
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succubus!reader and loser!ellie tribbing? Like... with a vibrator...
Cursing you rn for plaguing my thoughts
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if we draw on the basis of succubus strap, then we could imagine succubus!reader coming equipped with a vibrator. now, would it be just any run-of-the-mill vibrator? no. demons being demons, I think imp-intents would convince them otherwise into bringing something over-powered, stamped in warning labels (warning: your clit may just explode!), and of an intend to inspire fear; dauntingly looking. having ellie under your edict, an ankle cupped in your fist and spread wide 'till her hamstring stung, and forced to observe the way her and your cunt roll over the bulbous tip of a vibrator held by you— whining and weeping her freckled undereyes to puffed reds, is your prize at the crown of an inferno. cauldron of lusty tears at the tail of a rainbow. you can feel the force of her legs fighting back against that drilling sensation, the wants of enclosure around the vibration that made her clit feel pricked, engorged, oversensitive and screaming. and while you may not be the mother of demons, she'd still address you as if you were the mother of succubi. voice holding the vulnerability of a fucktoy. "h—hey.. can you turn the setting down? don't wanna come yet, m—mama." rasps transformed into elated gasps inwards, yet obstructed by the moans begging to filter out. she's staring up at you with these doey, watery eyes, ones you would see on kneels begging for forgiveness. and her mouth is slightly cracked, taking slim heaps of air her reddened, little button nose couldn't steady out. control being in your thrall, and the appeal of fragile girls under you relying on your mercy as their pussies happily eat up whatever you've got shoved in, or on them— is the exact persuasion that drives you on. either that, or just how her pussy: slicked from pearl to sheet in milky nectar your throat gulped to drink, and beautifully spreading folds over the vibrating head, so close to your own— drives you on. the details. the consequences of your torture. "mh-mn ellie, y'know whose rules we're playing by, right?" you ask sweetly, shaking your head side to side, and she nods with hesitation, folding her lip in to wetten it up prior to humming, "mhm." contorting her features softly, like she could loathe the sound if she wanted to. "mine." reminding her, you angle the vibes shaft upon her abdomen, and quickly scoot her further under you, throwing her into audible shock. impending your sensual shadow over her, pressing your own pussy into the toy so that it would press into hers. "fuuuckkk." you groan in delight. toss your head back, out of ecstasy, out of the ability to handle this. contrarily, ellie groans in overstimulation, "ughhh!" and scrunches her face like pain is present, breaking her lips open into a gasping, light-headed mess, choking and whining on overload, "f-fuhuck—" squirts all over the plastic without remorse for how filthy the scene looks, digging nails into the flesh of her lifted knees for dear life.
++ and she'd be bucking and knocking her clenched feet unknowningly into your backside the entire time. squirming around and laughing torturedly. screwing these worried little eyes down at her crotch. ughh I live for loser!sub!ellie.
definitely has a thing for wings though. takes one good look at yours and she's creaming unprompted. [big text version up for request] [ellie img from caitsgalaxy on pinterest]
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hoshifighting · 2 days ago
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omg hiiii, thank you sm for writing like all of the writing pieces are so insane and so good, can i request overstimulated reader to the point of crying (but on comfort level, ofc) with joshua our gentleman. have a good day <3
joshua overstimulating reader
a/n: thank you for all the love <3
WARNINGS: smut, vibrator, leg restraint, mentions of aftercare, dirty talk, a bit of dumbification, praising
“oh, poor baby,” joshua coos, his voice syrupy sweet, like he's trying to comfort you who is currently trembling and barely holding it together. "what's wrong, princess? too much?"
your legs twitch against the restraints, uselessly tugging, and your head is shaking no-no-no because it’s too much, but you’re also nodding because if he stops now, you’ll probably cry for a different reason. the vibrator against your clit is relentless, buzzing away, and your whole body is trembling, overstimulated to the point where tears are streaking down your cheeks.
“aww honey, look at you,” he hums, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face like you’re some kind of fragile artwork. “so pretty when you cry for me. you like being like this, huh? all dumb and desperate?”
you let out this broken sob, trying to arch your back, trying to do anything to escape or chase more—honestly, you don’t even know anymore. his fingers trace your thigh, featherlight, but you flinch like he’s shocking you.
“shh, shh,” he soothes, though there’s nothing soft about the smirk on his lips. “my princess is so sensitive, isn’t she? such a good girl, taking everything i give her.”
“shua—!” you gasp, voice cracking as another wave of pleasure punches through you. your hips buck uselessly, your thighs straining against the restraints, and you don’t even realize you’re crying harder until he reaches out to wipe the tears off your cheeks.
“shh, baby, it’s okay,” he coos, his thumb pressing gently against your trembling bottom lip. “all messy, all mine. you wanted this, didn’t you?”
“yes,” you manage to choke out, voice barely audible over the sound of the vibrator and your own wrecked whines.
“good girl,” he praises, and fuck, the way he says it makes you clench around nothing, your body shaking even harder. “you’re so good for me. so perfect, letting me use this pretty little body of yours.”
his hand slides down, grazing your overstimulated core, and you let out this wrecked, high-pitched noise that makes him chuckle. “but you’re so dumb right now, aren’t you, baby? can’t even think straight, huh?”
you shake your head, another sob ripping from your throat, and he looks so fucking pleased with himself, like this is exactly where he wanted you—completely undone, totally at his mercy.
“my pretty little princess,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead so sweetly it makes your heart ache. “you’re doing so well for me. just a little more, okay? you can take it, can’t you?”
“i—i don’t—i can’t—”
“yes, you can,” he cuts you off, his voice firm but still kind, like he’s talking you through a particularly rough workout. “you’re my strong girl, remember? my good girl. you can give me one more, right? i will help you. shua will cuddle with you after you cum one more time, what do you think?”
the thought makes you whine while you chase the vibrator and his hand at the same time. he smiles widely when he notices that the thought of cuddling with him excites you this much.
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ajbullet · 1 year ago
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My thoughts on episode 5 of PJO: spoilers (less points but more info on those points because OMGS)
-Annabeth knowing Percy is still alive when even Grover HIS PROTECTER wasn’t sure
-THE HUG! THE HUG! It wasn’t some awkward oh we have to hug in this scene thing like Leah went for that hug. Gripping his shirt, closed eyes, relieved sigh and all
- The fates were so cool to see. It was funny seeing just three old ladies in the mix of all the other people
- Percy being in shock the entire first part of the quest and now finally asking the important questions and feeling a tad overwhelmed. Such a realistic, delayed reaction to everything to has happened
- Ares. Not what I imagined, but bought into him eventually. It was a cool take on his character
- Not their heads popping up from behind that cement thing like whack-a-moles. Especially Annabeth
- Persassy and Sassabeth were not having it with Ares’ shit. Sassabeth came out of the gate swinging
- Grover staying behind????
- Oh my gods my percabeth heart was filled to the brim. I was on the edge of my seat for their every line to each other. I was INVESTED
- Annabeth hasn’t seen a single movie?? But why does that fit her character so well??? Post credit scene of episode 8 her and Percy movie date please?????
- WHAT IS LOVE BABY DONT HURT ME
- Not Percy using his powers for the FIRST TIME to save Annabeth’s life
- My girl is slaying with her braids and her tears. Love it
- “You’re better that this than me. You know it.”
- SHE. FUCKING. SAID. THE. THING. Where were you when Annabeth said Seaweed Brain for the first time? I was on my couch, crying and screaming and audibly gasping. Almost choked on my own spit (yes that information was necessary)
- He sacrificed himself for her again
- “I’m not leaving the Underworld without your mom” “I was gonna say come free me after the quest” Forgot the exact quotes but omg they know each other so well already
- Annabeth has come so far already. She sees the twisted, manipulative ways of the gods and unseats of accepting it and continuing it and ignoring it, she actively tries to put an end to it. Her friend isn’t “that way.” She is wise enough to know that she once was that way but wants to change. She is the best character not because she is perfect, but because she sees, acknowledges, and accepts her flaws and actively seeks to better herself. Every award to Leah im serious
- “Thanks for the emotional abuse and cheeseburgers” me to my parents 🫣
There’s so much more I want to expand on and point out and talk about but im probably just gonna make separate mini posts. Guys this episode was EVERYTHING
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slut4thebroken · 1 month ago
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Reminisce
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader
Summary | Your boyfriend of almost nine months finally reveals something to you.
Warnings | Consensual to NON CON, smut, forced breeding, baby trapping, scars, praise, forced orgasm, crying, blackmail?, past rape, lots of talk about rape, like a lot.
Words | 1.4 k
Notes | Pretend I posted this a week before Halloween like it says in the fic lol.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 19: forced orgasm
Also idk this gif just reminded me of this part “he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in.”
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“Good girl… Take my fucking cock.” He gruffed, wrapping a hand around your neck, fucking you even harder. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. He was leaning over your body with your legs on his shoulders basically pushed flat against your chest, unable to do anything other than take it. 
“Jackson..” You whined. Each hard thrust was punching little breaths and grunts out of you and he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in. 
“God— This reminds me so much of our first date.” He groaned, confusing you. Your first date was at a restaurant and he only kissed you after walking you to your door… You didn’t know what he was talking about and his cock ramming into you was making it really hard to think about it. He chuckled quietly when he saw your furrowed brows. 
“You don’t remember? It was right here in this bed, you were dressed up as a cute little fairy for Halloween and I was wearing a mask…” He trailed off, waiting for you to finally figure it out. Your stomach dropped as you recalled what was probably the worst night of your entire life. “You looked so pretty crying and begging for me like that, I knew I had to make you mine.” He said with a small smile, sounding almost endeared. 
You stared up at him in shock and horror as the small scar below your collarbone started aching at the memory. There’s no way that your boyfriend of almost nine months was the one who broke into your apartment and raped you last Halloween. 
“W-what?” You said through a breath, voice barely audible. His smirk widened as he took in the terror on your face. 
“I was thinking of waiting until Halloween, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled. “Plus it’s only a week away, and I figured you might shut down on the actual day.” 
All you could do was stare at him, a huge wave of emotions crashing down on you. When the angle of his thrusts shifted a little and he hit that one spot inside of you, you suddenly remembered that he was still fucking you and you started pushing him away. 
“Get the fuck off of me.” Any malice in your tone was completely overshadowed by fear. In response, he just grinned and squeezed your neck even harder until you gasped for air. 
“You were so tight that day… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for almost a year.” He groaned, then his eyes flitted down to your chest. “And that scar… Every time I see it I remember how pretty you looked, crying and begging under me as you took my cock like a good little girl— just like you’re doing now.” 
“Get off!” You yelled, the tears in your eyes beginning to fall as you thrashed under him. He shushed you and just grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head with one hand while the other moved to trace over the scar. 
“You know… The first time you got all choked up when I asked about it, I had to go to the bathroom and jerk off.” He chuckled quietly, looking between your face and the scar with an almost fond expression.
“Stop!” You screamed, becoming hysterical. “Jackson, please.” When you broke out into a sob, he cursed under his breath and moaned loudly, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 
“God- you were crying just like this…” He groaned, dragging his gaze all over your tear streaked face. “Only last time you weren’t about to come on my cock.” He said smugly. 
You shook your head almost violently, but you could feel your orgasm still approaching, despite what you just learned. 
“And, between you and me… based on how hysterical you were last year, I was worried you wouldn’t be interested in a relationship at all— let alone sex…” He said teasingly, but his voice was becoming breathless as he neared his own release. “But you surprised me.” He chuckled quietly. You could barely focus on his words with how hard you were crying, feeling completely frozen underneath him. “You were so desperate for it too. I guess that’s normal though… Something about reclaiming control over your body and what not.”
“Jackson, please stop.” You sobbed brokenly, but he wasn’t deterred at all.
“Stop? But you were just moaning like a little whore for me two minutes ago.” He said coyly. 
“I hate you!” You suddenly screamed, making him laugh again. 
“No. You hate yourself because you’re about to cream all over your rapist’s cock.” The hand not holding your wrists down moved to rub your clit and your crying intensified. 
“Stop!” You shrieked, thrashing under him uselessly. 
“Beg harder, baby… I’m close.” He moaned as his thrusts sped up. The smirk on his face that used to make you blush, made you sick to your stomach this time. 
You were mumbling incoherent protests and pleas and he let his head drop down as he moaned loudly. His fingers never faltered on your clit and you could feel your unwanted orgasm rapidly approaching. 
“No… No— please.” You sobbed weakly, making him look at you again. 
“Do it, slut. Come on my fucking cock while I rape you again.”
You were crying almost violently now, tears streaming down your cheeks as you practically started hyperventilating. “Please..” You whimpered, squirming under him weakly. The coil of arousal in your belly wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge. “No,” you sobbed and Jackson groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 
“Oh, good girl…” He cooed, making you cry harder. “That's it… Cream all over my dick, baby.” His usually smug tone that used to fill your stomach with butterflies, now just made you nauseous. 
“Stop! Please stop, Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, unable to hold back your moans and whimpers as his fingers continued rubbing firm circles on your clit. 
His lips parted in a silent moan and his eyes closed as his head fell forward, landing on your chest. With one final grunt, he bottomed out, his cockhead pressing against your cervix uncomfortably. You whined through quiet sobs, all while Jackson moaned… savoring every last bit of your suffering.
“Fuck..” He said through a breathy laugh once his orgasm finally faded. He leaned up, taking in the sight of your glossy eyes and quivering lip, then grabbed your cheeks to hold you still, letting him kiss you. No matter how hard you tried to turn away, he was stronger. He only released you once he was completely satisfied. “Mm… good girl.” He murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You were completely frozen under him, only able to let out hiccuping sobs. 
“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, his voice overly sweet. “But you’re not gonna leave me.” You stared at him, trying to keep a brave face, but you knew he could see your fear. “Raped twice? You’re damaged goods, sweetheart. No respectable man is gonna want you now.” You let out a choked sob and closed your eyes, hearing him coo again. 
“Plus…” when his voice turned a little serious, your blood ran cold in anticipation, “you’re gonna need me to stick around for our kid.” 
Your lips parted and you stared at him with both confusion and fear as you trembled. “What?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 
“Lucky me, finding a girl who’s selfish enough to make sex feel less good— all because of the ‘hormones’ and side effects of birth control.” He sneered, his voice cold but with a cruel, almost playful lilt. Then he casually added, “You should be pregnant by now. I’ve been poking holes in all the condoms for almost two weeks.”
“Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, not even knowing how to react. 
“I know, honey, but I’ll take good care of you.” He pet your hair gently, then wiped away the tears on your face. “Your boss should be getting something in the mail soon. After he fires you, you’ll finally be able to live up to your full potential. You can move in with me and only have to worry about taking care of the house and our kids, and servicing my cock. Doesn’t that sound nice?” All you could do was cry and shake your head. 
“You’re gonna love it.” He smiled, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”
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plasticferal · 11 months ago
Text
chocolate part two | chris sturniolo.
authors note: part one here. 3k short and sweet. as requested. so sorry it's nothing crazy! not really proof read, i'm half asleep.
warnings: 18+ fem!reader, daddy!kink, unprotected sex (whoops), creampie, light choking, sexual scenes, explicit language, reader discretion is strongly advised.
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“my turn.” 
before you even have a chance to please him, your face is stopped by chris’s large hand grabbing your jaw, a signature move from him tonight. he forces you to look up at him again and you audibly groan, getting annoyed by being interrupted and losing momentum. 
“think you can handle it?” he tests. you give him lustful, yet threatening eyes. you’re sure your pupils are as dilated as his, the black part of his bright blue eyes daring you with a long, intense stare.
“i think the question here is can you handle it?” your response is daring. 
“i know i can, sweetheart.” chris adjusts his hips with a rolling motion, getting more comfortable in the lounge. 
in any other situation, his words would make you grimace. laugh even, or want to hit him. when he’s locking his eyes with you, so intensely.
the way his thumbs are pressing into your dimples, it makes you want to put on a show for him. he’s already looking at you like he wants to devour you again and it makes you see him in a different light.
chris snaps you out of your thoughts when he guides your face back down, and you give a greedy smile when you finally get to show him that you can give as well as you take.
you hook your fingers over the waistband of his sweats, grabbing his boxers as well, that are damp and stained from the mess you’ve already made, as well as a small patch of his precum leaking through. 
you’re eager to see his cock. 
you’re shocked he’s been so tame thus far, with the amount of blood he has rushing to his throbbing member, and the drawn out torture he’s had to endure while not being touched. it makes you feel like he’s prioritized your pleasure, and he has. 
the moment you pull his clothes down in one foul swoop, chris sucks air through his teeth, finally letting his dick spring free. he naturally takes the base in his grip, giving himself a slow, much needed stroke. 
you suck your cheeks a few times to accumulate enough saliva in your mouth before tightening your lips to spit onto his tip. you let the strand of salvia drop slowly, controlling the fall. 
he’s watching through hooded eyes, and you just know they’re burning him with the way he’s refusing to blink, as to not miss a single move you make. you look up through your eyelashes as the wetness finally falls onto his head, and he lets out a shuddering breath. 
he’s perfect. there’s no curve in his dick, he’s just thick and wide. he’s long too, and freshly shaven. which shouldn’t shock you, but does. the smell of his sweat is sickeningly mouth-watering.
you readily sink your mouth onto him, your lips caressing his delicate skin as you feel his base glide down your throat, his own fingers still wrapped around himself to keep his cock steady for you. 
he releases his hands when your mouth engulfs him fully, and even you’re taken aback. you gag slightly, making your eyes water, and chris groans with rapture. you lift your head to suck upwards before messily pushing your head back down onto him, repeating the movement with small moans and digging into his thighs with your nails. 
"make daddy cum with just your mouth" his voice is low, and quiet. direct enough, but slightly under his breath. 
you’re trying to do exactly as he says. a switch in watching to prove yourself to him, but you’re sure again it’s just the chocolate, even if you are just using that as an excuse, along with the aftermath of your still throbbing clit. 
he’s high on adrenaline. that kind of ego boost that hits differently now. he's just so full of himself. he is toward you on a regular basis, but now it’s to your benefit. you are listening to his demands though. 
he knows he's hot. you hate him for it. you moan again, gagging as he bucks his hips upwards. you raise your hand to stroke him, even if just to stimulate him more, to support your mouth movements. he swats your hand away. 
"no. no hands. only that pretty mouth of yours." 
you hate yourself even more for obeying. 
his hips rhythmically grind upward in the most minuscule rolling motion, and it’s your sign that he’s enjoying it. his mouth hangs open slightly, showing a glimpse of his perfect top row of teeth. chris lifts both his hands and tucks them behind his head, interlocking his fingers and resting the back of his head on his open palms. 
you kiss his tip, sticking your tongue out to tease him. you’re laying kitten-like licks on his weeping head before taking him again. he fucks your throat now that you know the rules, and you’re a mess. you’re sure you’re leaving nail marks in his skin, and he’s leaving a bruise in the back of your throat. his hips are thrusting into your mouth harder and harder. 
“ngh, ugh, fuck, fuuuuuck” he moans his words, a husk in his tone as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes.
you’re sloppily trying to keep his cock in your mouth as you rise and fall onto him, and it slaps your face occasionally as you have no grip. you’re certain he’s enjoying the struggle. you suck his tip harshly, and it makes him wince. humming a light laugh, you keep sucking and choking on his cock.
you feel chris grab your head and pull you up impatiently, making you pant heavily and wipe your mouth. 
“now i’m gonna fuck you, yeah?” chris says, but it’s not a question, it’s a statement. you want to utter the words “finally” but bite your tongue.  
you’re eye to eye, and chris lazily presses a kiss to your lips in a daze. you give an intemperate smile against his mouth, and he mirrors the look on your face, like this is the peak of your thrill for the night. what you both want, what that cursed chocolate has made you need. 
chris manhandles you by grabbing your ribcage on either side, lifting you onto him then flipping you over so you’re face down. it’s a hot, sweaty, desperate mess of intertwined limbs. 
he has you bent over the couch cushion like a rag doll. thighs jerked around his waist, your tits pressing against the plush chenille while his dick slides between your walls. your nails scratch into the upholstery. 
”all ready for me” chris hisses in your ear, fat tip pressing against your sopping pussy, and it’s making you weaker by the second.
it hasn’t even crossed your mind that you’re not using protection, at this point you’re so sore and deprived that you don’t care. not in the slightest. you just know you need him to fuck you until you both snap back to reality.
“chri- fuck, daddy. please, i need it.” you whine, feeling him slap his cock up through your folds. 
chris’s chest presses to your back as he grabs at your hip, squeezing hard, aligning himself properly. you exhale as chris’s face presses to yours from over your shoulder, his beard stubble tickling your neck and ears. he bites at your earlobe, making you squirm. his hand slaps your ass hard as he asks the question you wish he’d just act on.
“you are ready for me, aren’t you?” he asks, a rasp in his tone.
“yes. yes i’m ready,” you plea.
“just don’t be an idiot and make sure you pull out.” your tone is snarky as you say it in a breathless way.
“yeah, ‘cause that’ll be the biggest mistake tonight” he’s sarcastic, but his implementation makes you seethe. 
he’s slowly stretching your hole out to be obnoxious and distract you from his bitter words before you can respond, and you both gasp as his girth rubs through you, sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire core and body.
“so fuckin’ tight.” chris’s words are so filthy, making you uncontrollably clench around his cock. your cunt sucks him in even deeper and yet pushes him out at the same time. he grunts in response. 
“fucking do that again and ‘m cumming inside you.” his hand pulls your forehead so you’re looking at him, the mere size of his cock making water pool in your lash line. 
his slow, taunting thrusts leave your mind blank. your eyes shut as you feel every pure, fiery sense run through you. 
being with chris skin to skin like this as he fucks you from behind is undeniably euphoric. it’s like hearing your favorite song for the first time, blasting it through your car speakers while driving over the limit down a highway with the windows down, taking every twist and turn with no fear but ultimately knowing if you don’t slow down, you’ll crash. chris is the dangerous road and you’re the sucker taking a ride on it.
“c-chris, auh fuck,- can’t” the fact you’re even able to spit out any words at all surprises you both, yet only makes the bastard smirk. 
how you haven’t woken anyone else up is also a threat waiting around the corner. or they are awake, are hearing what's happening, and refuse to check.
so, you dig your teeth into your bottom lip to resist the urge to speak, despite a moan slipping from your lips as his hips begin to slap into your ass. many moans erupt as he pushes down on your back, thrusting your hips up even higher he hits your sweet spot perfectly. 
“such a fucking shame you hate me, huh? i could make you feel this good every night” he grazes his teeth over the curve of your shoulder, making you throw your head back. 
you know he’s enjoying the taunts far too much, but his heavy balls slapping against your clit truly blur out any scoffs you almost reside to. instead, replaced by dirty gasps and whimpers as you force your breath to stop, stifling moans that almost slip from your drool kissed lips.
your struggling reaction is an answer enough for chris. 
the words disappear in your mind anyway before they even set in, the feeling of his tip thrusting right into your g-spot triggers your electric laced climax. cunt walls quivering around his dick, balls deep in your squelching pussy. the sounds are so satisfying, an homage to the tests you’ve put each other through. 
“p-pull out” you try to manage with a dizzy and corrupted head barely doing anything to genuinely protest. it just feels so good, and your stomach cramps with a twang of pain and pleasure. 
in an instant, he pries your legs from his waist and pushes your hips down onto the couch, prone boning you from the back as you feel him grab your neck in a wrap around motion, squeezing your jaw and speaking against the arch of your ear.
“don’t tell me what to do.” his words almost register right before he slams to the hilt once more, his tip twitching against your cervix, a deep groan leaving his throat as his cum leaked down your clenching cunt. 
“f-fuck you, chris.” you pant. feeling him collapse gently on top of you, peeling your sweat brimmed hair from your neck he lays kisses on your back, down your spine, and little dip of your hip where his finger prints burn into your skin. 
“you are hot when you're mad, y/n.” you gasp as he kneels behind you, swiping two fingers through your gaping entrance to clean you up.
chris grabs a blanket that you’re certain he’ll discard later to wipe everything clean, it being the closest thing in a desperate time calls for desperate measures situation. you roll over from your position, but simply turning over in one spot feels more laborious than it should.
“so you purposely piss me off?” you wipe your forehead, staring at the ceiling and he chuckles, scooting up next to you.
“i just like how you react to me.”
if it wasn’t yourself experiencing it, you’d never believe it. you stare at the white plaster above you and become overly aware that the effects of the stimulant are dwindling. from the moment he rolled off your body and you let his cum seep out of your throbbing, heavy feeling pussy. 
in the blink of an eye you’re overwhelmed by a mix of feeling guilty and fulfilled.
“it’s worn off, hasn’t it?” you see chris turn to look at you from your peripheral vision. 
there’s a part of you that is almost certain it wore off about ten minutes ago, and that it was the darkest part of your hidden desires begging for him instead. not the stupid stimulate you both accidentally consumed. you can never admit that. you can never admit to how you feel in this moment ever.
“i think so.” your chest is still rising and falling manically, and you’re trying not to embarrass yourself with the short restricted breaths you’re taking to not appear disheveled. 
“y/n, look at me.” he says. you turn to look back at him. his big blue dopey eyes are slightly red now, and evidently tired.
“are you okay? i didn’t over-do it, did i?” he draws his eyebrows together with concern, and you sit up slightly to see him better, looking down at him and swing a leg over his torso to bring him closer.
“you didn’t. honestly,” you reassure with the start of your sentence. 
“i’m just wondering how long it’ll take for us to go back to hating each other” you brush a hair from chris’s face, and his hand rests over your knee, pulling you onto him more with a sleepy smile.
“oh i never stopped, sweetheart” his croaky voice jokes, and you slap his chest. 
his smile fades slowly, and you raise an eyebrow, worried about his next words.
“what’s wrong, chris?” you ask. he pauses for a moment, pulling his bottom lip under this teeth momentarily.
“i’m actually scared that i won’t be able to go back to that.” he’s speaking from the heart. 
“back to?” you lure more from him. it’ll drive you insane if he doesn’t explicitly express himself, and you don’t like it, how serious he is as you lay half naked, smelling of sex.
“the hatred. the bickering and the snarky comments. before i saw you naked. kissed your lips. tasted you on my tongue” he trails off, getting lost in his own thoughts.
“i mean if you want to be one hundred percent sure, we could dig some of that chocolate out from the trash. go for round two?” you shrug lightheartedly, too scared to be serious with him. 
he exhales a laugh through his nostrils, against his own will.
“i’m usually the one making jokes like that” he observes, giving you a slightly proud look. acknowledging that you’re beating him at his own game.
“and i’m usually the one with some self-control” your tone is slightly aligned more with his switch of mood.
“yeah well you didn’t really have a choice, love” chris is calm, stretching his neck by rolling it side to side, and you have the temptation to just attack his neck in kisses. even with no aphrodisiac. 
you’re focused on the little veins pressing up into his smooth, pale skin. the light curls in the back of his hair closer to his neck that’s still laced with sweat.
“i did have a choice.” you sound annoyed initially, moreso at his statement that you don’t deem to be true at all. you watch as chris’s face drop, like he’s just fucked up. 
frankly, he did. he fucked up from he second he said he’s hungry.
you can almost hear him swallow.
“i chose you.” you say.
“as convenient as you were in the moment, i still made a choice, chrissy.” the name just slips out at this point, your emotions getting the best of you in a vulnerable state.
“can we also choose to drop the name chrissy?” he twists his face in a silly way, one that doesn’t match the severity of what you just shared with him.
“you asked for it!” you whisper yell, grabbing his upper arm and squeezing it with annoyance.
“not true. i got what i asked for, and more” he’s smug at the thought.
“you are so annoying.” you drop onto his chest, and he wraps an arm around you securely. He’s silent again.
“i know.” he says in a monotone under his breath.
maybe he’s not ready to hear it, he wants to ignore it, probably. you’re okay with that. or at least have to be. you have to be okay with the fact he’ll possibly resent you in the morning. never speak to you again, not even to mess with you.
your train of thought is slowly rocking your mind to rest, eyes and body feeling so heavy. you begin to flutter them open and shut until you eventually give in and keep them closed. you feel chris’s body shift beneath you but you can’t move from exhaustion. 
he swoops his arms behind your knees, lifting you with him as he stands. he cradles you bridal style, and your head is peaceful against his shoulder. your arms tuck into your chest and you feel so small in his embrace. you imagine the walk he’s talking in your mind as he carries you through the house. 
it’s weird, and kind of funny to know how shameless he is about doing it with no pants on. but it’s chris. he’s shameless about most things.
you finally feel your body rest on what you can only guess is his bed. it smells like his body wash. probably something stupid like a three in one. your thoughts about him sour your brain and contrast his next, kind, action.
chris covers you with a blanket. to him, you appear asleep. physically you are. mentally you're wide awake. awake and aware enough to hear his next words.
“i chose you, too. i always will, even if you hate me again in the morning.” he presses a kiss to your temple, and drops onto the mattress beside you. your faint smile is hidden in the pillow. 
maybe he’s not as bitter as you paint him out to be. he’s got a sweet side, it just took an accident to realize it.
tag list: @luverboychris @floofparker @fake-sturniolos @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @sturns333 @tillies33ssss @albgv @sturniolowhore
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demonic0angel · 23 days ago
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Anger management is in deep trouble with the villain of the week. Jason is trying to recover from being thrown through a couple of walls and plan out his next step when Jazz calls for her brother. Danny comes running full eldritch form.
Jason grit his teeth and tried to think of what to do next. His head was spinning and his back was sending him flares of pain that reached into his brain, only increasing his headache. His eyes drifted to Wolf, who was similarly woozy and injured as she stood on shaky legs, trembling like a newborn fawn.
“W-Wolf…!” He grit his teeth. “Run! They— They want me so—”
“If you think I’m going to run and leave you here, you probably have brain damage,” was her scathing reply. Jason choked on a laugh, his bones literally feeling as though they were creaking in his skin.
She approached him and gently brushed gloved fingers under his exposed eye from his broken helmet. Jason closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them. Her other hand was fumbling for her gun, and realizing that she couldn’t find it, having lost it in the previous fight, she cursed softly. Jason watched her with half lidded eyes, still trying to think of a plan.
A roar from their previous assailant, who was extremely close, echoed through the air with a terrifying timbre and interrupted his thoughts.
Jason’s eyes widened. “Wolf!” He hissed again. “Please, I mean it, just run! Go! If you can get away, maybe you can get reinforcements—”
“I’m not leaving!” She snapped. She hugged him protectively, pulling his broad body into her arms as gingerly and quickly as she could. “I have a plan. Can you trust me?”
Jason blinked again. Well, he’d done crazier things with people he trusted even less than her.
“Of course. I trust you with my life.”
He couldn’t see her face through her helmet, but she seemed happy, before she took in an audible inhale.
And then— “DANNYYYYYY!!!”
The air seemed to still after her shout and then the creature that had beaten them roared again and thundering footsteps ran in their direction. Jason swore heavily but didn’t move as Wolf hugged him, pressing his face against her chest. Just as he could feel the ground shake and the huffing breaths of the monster, there was a bright green portal opening up some distance away from them.
Jason’s mouth dropped in both bafflement and shock as a white blur ran out and then tackled the beast that didn’t even get a chance to growl before it was crushed to a pulp. There were green and white flashes, incomprehensible body parts, and maybe even tentacles, and a very loud, drawn out scream from the dying monster before there was silence again.
Then there was the sound of slurping and crunching sounds like bones being crunched by teeth.
Jason stared and listened with horror.
“W-What the fuck was that?!”
Wolf sighed and stroked his back soothingly. Jason had a brief thought to mourn the fact that they were both clothed and armored so he couldn’t feel her warm skin, before he was back to being horrified as she replied nonchalantly with a large amount of fondness, “That was my little brother.”
“… you’ve gotta be kidding.”
“No. He comes when we call. Oh! There he is now! Hey, Danny!”
Jason turned around slowly, only to meet bright glowing eyes like two green suns staring at him with a terrifying amount of irritation.
“G̴̡̧̼͎̗̰̰̬̔̾̈́̊̇̎ė̵͕͔̝̱̖̗͆̂̆͌̈́͘͜t̴͕͓͚͕̥͚̂̂͐̍̂̀͊ ̷̝̎a̸̢̩̫͖̘͙̝̪̒̑̊̇ẃ̷̼̩̭̰̰͓̠̦̏̽̈̚ḁ̸̡͓̦̗̍̀̎͘͘͜y̴̧̖̫̰̮͒̊͛͜͠ ̸̩̝̬̥͉͇̇f̶̺̑͛̿͊̋͘͠r̴̜̪̥̓ó̵͐̍͐̎̇��̥m̷̡͈̳̥̰̙͒̊̑͌̄ ̴͔̾̂̓ṁ̵̩̏̇̚ý̴͇͊ ̴̡̟̺̭̋s̶̠̰̦̦͑́̅̈́̋̍͝͝i̴͍̫̻̰͛͌̃̑̈́̃̔͝s̷̨͎͚̈̿̈́́͊̃͝͠t̵̘͇̔͑̾́͐̎e̴͔̯͔̪̮̝̫͌͑̊̃̎r̴̢̥̭̥̱̚.̶͓̲̮͋͌͋͊̄͠”
(Note: that last part is Danny saying “Get away from my sister.”)
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wolfiesmoon · 7 months ago
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Phone number
Haruka Sakura x fem!reader
hello this is my windbreaker debut 😍😍😍
i've been thinking about babyboy sakura way too much lately, and come on how do you expect me to resist a tsundere who gets flustered easily
speaking of flustering sakura...😈
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"Hey. You're a member of Bofurin, right?" you tapped Sakura on the shoulder while he was walking down the street.
Two weeks ago, you happened to see him patrolling the town and beating up some bad guys that were causing trouble. Ever since then you haven't been able to stop thinking about him. Maybe it's the strange yet intriguing appearance or maybe it's the serious, no nonsense expression on his face that you can't get out of your head.
You're still kind of processing it since it came out of nowhere, but you think you might have a crush on him. At the very least, you're interested to the point where you want to meet him again and shoot your shot.
This brings you to where you are right now. You happened to see him again while running errands around town and thought to yourself "now or never".
"Yeah, what do you want?" he sounded like he was slightly bothered by you approaching him, but you happened to notice the slight pink dusting his cheeks which let you know that might not be the case.
"I need help with something." you intertwined your fingers, putting on your best sweet smile and trying not to show that you're nervous as hell right now.
His expression became slightly more serious, somewhat like the cool expression he was wearing during the fight 2 weeks ago. It was a silent way of telling you to go on.
"Something's missing and I need help finding it. It's your number." you screamed internally because that line sounded way cooler in your head and hearing yourself say it now makes you feel like the biggest idiot on Earth.
He stared at you weirdly for a few excruciating seconds like you did in fact just say the stupidest thing ever which made you instantly lose all the confidence you built up.
"So, uh, you know, if you could give your number to me, that would be nice?" it's almost like you enjoy digging your own grave.
He furrowed his brows as if he's thinking hard before turning completely red all of a sudden. You giggled about how he looks like a tomato internally but on the outside you were too mortified to do anything other than wait for his response. He changed colors like those LED lights. It's almost impressive.
"My number? T-To you?" he seemed genuinely surprised to say the least. He looked shocked to a comical degree.
You nodded and he fumbled around his pockets to pull out his phone. He stared at it for a few seconds before awkwardly asking "How do I do that, again?"
He was firmly avoiding eye contact with you now, which is kind of strange compared to the way he was confidently exchanging eye contact with you a few moments before. You aren't sure if he's embarrased because you're asking him for his number or if it's because he has no idea how to exchange contact info. But if he's embarrased about it, that means he's atleast a little interested, right?
"Give it here." you gently held out your hand and he gave you his phone without saying anything. You added him on LINE, probably wearing a stupidly giddy smile on your face while doing that without even noticing.
"There..." you handed his phone back to him. "So, um... see you around?" you smiled at him one last time, turning around to get the hell out of this awkward yet exciting situation and waving back at him. That was the most awkward you've felt in a while and you kind of ended the interaction suddenly because you couldn't take it anymore.
"S... see you." he choked out, barely audible to you.
When you were firmly out of view, he realised that he has a nosebleed. A girl... just gave him her number. A girl... just... He feels like he might just faint from all the blood rushing to his face. Not to mention he's going to have to clean up his nose before anyone notices.
He stared at your contact name with a little heart next to it for far too long when he was all alone that night.
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iomoru · 2 months ago
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The Promise Kept
A/n: here's the part 2 for the Kinich angst! Im sorry if it took long (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)
Genre: Canon Verse, Angst w/ a happy ending, Reader lives, Gn! Reader, Second Person, Proofread
Summary: After sacrificing your life to save Kinich, your secret deal with Ajaw threatens to let the god take over your body. But in a moment of desperation, Kinich’s devotion defies fate itself, bringing you back to life and breaking Ajaw’s claim. Together, you share a second chance, bound by an unbreakable promise.
part. 1, part. 2
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As you collapsed in Kinich's arms, your vision blurred, and your pulse weakening, you could feel his desperation in the way he held you, his words a frantic, broken whisper.
"No," Kinich murmured, his voice choked with grief. "You can’t leave me…please, stay with me."
Your lips curved in a faint smile, a bittersweet acceptance of what you’d done. "I made…a deal," you breathed, barely audible, "with Ajaw."
Kinich’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "What kind of deal?"
"If I died protecting you," you whispered, your voice weak, "he’d take my body instead of yours."
Kinich’s gaze darkened with anger and sorrow as he clutched you tighter. "No… this can’t happen, I was supposed to protect you."
Your heart ached at his pain, but before you could reassure him, darkness began to seep in at the edges of your vision. The presence you felt waiting—Ajaw’s—grew closer, reaching to take what was now his.
But then, a warmth spread through you, foreign yet gentle. Kinich’s hands pressed against your face as he whispered, "If you were willing to give everything to protect me, then I’m willing to do the same. Please, come back to me."
In that instant, the god's oppressive presence faded, replaced by a soft, warm light. A voice, calm and ancient, murmured through the stillness. “It seems your bond is stronger than I anticipated…so be it.”
Slowly, you felt strength returning to your body, life warming your limbs once more. You gasped, drawing in a full, shaky breath as Kinich’s relieved smile was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.
"You’re here…you’re really here," he whispered, his voice filled with joy and awe. He pulled you close, his embrace filled with a relief that went deeper than words.
The weight of Ajaw’s deal had faded, replaced by a promise fulfilled by something stronger—your shared devotion, unbreakable and whole.
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A/n: I hope you guys can stop being emo now (*´꒳`*) (I kind of still want my angst tho for some reason :3)
© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.
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victoryverse · 10 months ago
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soap and gaz's reaction to you going commando on a celebratory dinner>>
soap:
johnny would be...flabbergasted 😂 eyes would be blown wide and mind going a million miles per minute as he actually takes in the situation in front of him.
theren you are, having vodka shots in your cute little dress, when there' nothing on underneath, and one blow of wind, or something, and yo would be exposed to the entirety of his team.
he would come up behind you, pressing his hard cock to your ass, and you would immediately straighten up, the curve of his bulge fitting perfectly between your cheeks.
he would whisper in your ear, "aye, bonnie. you've got it all naked underneath, ain't it?" in his accent.
you would shiver, nodding, "yeah", a small whisper
"shall i bent y'over and show everyone how desperate ye're for m'cock? hm? " with a subtle press forward, that has your pelvis pressed up against the pool table.
"no--no, johnny" you would mumble, but your wetness pooling between your thighs would tell a completely diff story: wetness dripping out of your pussy, getting uncomfortable and wet.
"bet ye're dripping down there, aren't ya? creaming all over those pretty thighs of yours? hm? bet you want me to fuck you nice and good, so good there's cum dripping out of y'cunt, and you're a mess, all tears on y'face from how good it feels?"
you would audibly moan, eyes widening in surprise as soon as you would realize what happened. no one is looking at you, though. the music is loud enough, and everyone is drunk enough.
"see? they can't hear, wouldn't even notice if I bent you over her and fucked you bloody raw, lass. unless, of course, you make noises for me, yeah? pretty moans and whimpers and mewls, all the while your tiny, tight pussy clenched m'cock like it owns it? hm?"
gaz
gaz is the pretty boy, would get red-cheeked and immediately sober up.
"wh-what? you're-you're wearning nothing underneath? oh m'god-what if someone sees?"
red cheeks with the most innocent look, you would just reply with, "let them, wouldn't you want to show off your pretty girl? hm? fuck me here, kyle, please? put your thick cock in me and fuck me till I can't even speak"
"shh! someone could hear" even though his cock would be struggling in his boxers. he would gulp down, seeing around. no one has their gazes on you, everyone's busy with their own. then,he would get up, grabbing your hand and taking you to the bathroom stalls
would push you in one, getting after you and locking it good.
"oh fuck. thought I would cum right then and there"
you would look down at his crotch, his cock tenting in his pants. his eyes would be droopy, pupils blown out and full of lust.
you would smirk, getting down on your knees in front of him and quickly undoing his pants, pulling his cock out, precum oozing out the tip that you immediately lick off
his hand would slam at the wall beside him, his legs going week as you would take him down your throat.
"feels good? hm?" you would ask, whilst choking around his dick. he would nod, head thrown back and adam's apple bobbing as his mind would go empty with the way you're sucking his cock
you would use your hands to fondle his balls, massaging them while his cock hits the back of your throat, drool and spit all over your mouth as you try to make him cum in record time.
and that he does. 4 minutes and a few more seconds to be exact. his salty release inside your mouth while you gulp it down, and his legs almost give out.
"fuck, goddamn it, jesus, fuck" continuous mumbles of curses, while you pull his pants back up to the way they were.
he would immediately look into your eyes, asking "what about you?" without actually saying it.
"my dress and thighs and pussy are ruined anyways, all sticky and creamy. so you should just take me home and ruin me then."
you would slap his bum while walking out, and the shocked look on his face would be enough to say that he will be giving you back so many of those later.
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mysunshinetemptress · 7 months ago
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Snow Angel
Pretty Girls
Leah Williamson x Reader Warnings: Abusive relationship
The following weeks were a tightrope walk for Leah. Every glance from you sent shivers down her spine, every shared practice session felt charged with unspoken desire. Yet, you remained resolutely distant, the playful banter and lingering touches a distant memory. 
It was Arsenal's annual winter gala, with players from both men's and women's joined by their families to celebrate the teams past and present. Forced to sit at the same table together, the tension between You and Leah crackled.
The breaking point came later in the night after dinner when most of the guest's had moved to the dance floor. Alcohol, usually a social lubricant, only served to loosen inhibitions. As the laughter died down, Leah, emboldened by a few glasses of wine, turned to You.
You watched as Evan wrapped his hands around some random girl before turning back to the table only to be met by Leah's stare.
"So, about that night..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.
Your face drained of colour. You quickly turned your head back to the dance floor eyes scanning for Evan.
"Leah please, not here."
Leah let out an annoyed huff, "When then because you do nothing but ignore me."
You reached for her hand squeezing it "Please Le."
Leah looked at you confused at your desperation for her to drop the topic, but just as she opened her mouth to ask Evan wrapped his hand around your upper arm pulling you out of your seat. "Come on babe, dance with me."
You turned back to Leah mouthing later before turning to smile at Evan.
Leah watched, a bitter taste coating her tongue, as you were swept away by Evan's confident grin. The night, once filled with the promise of a resolution, felt like it was crumbling around her.
Across the table, her teammates were lost in their own conversations, oblivious to the storm brewing within Leah. Anger, laced with a fresh dose of hurt, bubbled up. She'd taken a risk, exposed herself, and you'd shut her down again.
As the night dragged on Leah decided she had enough, she was done waiting for you to come to her with an answer.
Spotting you and Evan standing at the bar laughing so happy and care free Leah decided it was now or never.
Ignoring the concerned glances shot her way by her teammates, Leah pushed her chair back from the table with a scraping sound that cut through the chatter. Her heart hammered a furious tattoo against her ribs as she navigated the throng of bodies towards the bar.
Leah grabbed your arm turning you slightly. "We need to talk about that night Y/n, I can't go on like this anymore."
Evan turned looking at you both confused.
"What night, Leah?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
The room held its breath. Leah could back out, pretend it was nothing, but the lie choked her.
"The night at my place," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "The night you, uh, crashed there after the club." Her glare dared Y/n to contradict her.
Y/n's gaze flickered between Leah and Evan, shame and panic warring on her face. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible.
"Evan, I..." You couldn't find the words unable to wrap your head around what was happening, Leah was doing this now, to get back at you for ignoring her.
The air hung heavy as your voice trailed off. The revelation hung in the room like a thunderclap, electrifying everyone within earshot. Evan's confusion morphed into a scowl as he looked at you, his hold tightening on your arm possessively.
Leah, despite her anger, felt a pang of guilt at the naked betrayal reflected in your eyes. Maybe this public outing wasn't the best course of action, but the hurt and confusion had driven her to a corner.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the murmur of shocked whispers from onlookers. Your teammates at your table shot worried glances your way, the playful atmosphere of the night now replaced with a tense curiosity.
Suddenly, a new voice cut through the tension. "What's going on here?" It was Kim, your captain, standing tall beside Leah with a concerned frown etched on her face.
Now, all eyes were on you. You could lie, fabricate some story to appease everyone. But the truth, however messy, loomed large. You took a deep breath, stealing a glance at Leah's pained expression. This wouldn't be easy for either of you.
"It's...complicated," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "The night Leah mentioned...we did share a moment, but..." You hesitated, unsure how to explain the confusing dance you'd been doing with your feelings.
"But...?" Evan prompted, his grip on your arm tightening even further. You winced at the pressure, the situation escalating with every passing second.
Taking another steadying breath, you finally decided on honesty, however brutal it might be. "Evan," you began, your voice gaining strength, "we're not...together. We never were." You turned to Leah, your eyes pleading for understanding. "And what happened that night...it shouldn't have happened."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. The carefully constructed facade of your relationship with Evan crumbled before your eyes. Shame burned hot on your cheeks, but you pushed on, determined to finally clear the air.
"Leah and I..." you started, then paused, searching for the right words. "We care about each other, but it's complicated. There were feelings, a moment of weakness..." You trailed off, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.
Leah, seeing your genuine distress, felt her anger begin to simmer down. Maybe public exposure wasn't the best strategy, but at least you were finally being honest. Her gaze locked with yours, a silent plea for understanding passing between you.
Before you could continue, Evan yanked his arm free, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You mean to tell me this whole time..." he spat, his voice thick with anger, but before he could finish his tirade, Kim stepped forward.
"Enough, Evan," she said, her voice firm and authoritative. "This isn't the time or place. Let's all take a step back and cool down."
Evan shook his head, "No we're leaving."
You tried to stop him "Evan, please let's just talk about it here, sort it out here."
Evan pushed his hands through his hair "Don't you think you have embarrassed me enough in front of all your friends tonight, we are leaving."
The air crackled with tension as Evan stormed away, dragging you who looked to Leah with what seemed to be a pleading look etched across your face.
Kim placed a hand on Leah's shoulder, her gaze laced with concern. "Are you alright, Le?" she asked gently. Leah shook her head brushing off the captain's hand "I'm going home, I'm sorry."
Leah is lying asleep in bed hours later when her doorbell goes off, she tosses slightly ignoring it hoping sleep will welcome her back when it goes off again.
huffing Leah tosses her duvets aside, before trudging down the stairs and swinging the door open angrily.
"What." Leah goes to give out to whoever has found themselves on her doorstep this late at night but the words die in her throat.
In the doorway, you're standing there shaking a dishevelled, your eyes red-rimmed and hair windblown. Dress torn, a bruise beginning to form on your cheekbone, a busted lip and a shiner coming through on your left eye.
Leah's heart lurched. The anger that had fueled her earlier actions evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. You were a mess, a physical manifestation of the chaos she'd helped create.
"Y/N?" Your name came out in a choked whisper.
You swayed slightly, before You flinched, as if expecting a slap instead. "Leah," you croaked, your voice hoarse. "I...Leah...please...let me in."
There was no room for judgment now. You needed help, a safe haven. Stepping aside, Leah ushered you in, the late-night chill clinging to your clothes a stark contrast to the warmth of her house.
The public humiliation you'd both endured at the gala paled in comparison to the violence simmering on her doorstep. Her anger towards you was forgotten, replaced by a surge of protectiveness.
"Come in," she rasped, stepping aside to usher you both into the house.
You stumbled slightly, leaning heavily on the doorframe for support. Leah quickly reached out, a hesitant hand hovering near your arm. You flinched again, but this time, it seemed to be more out of pain than fear.
Taking a deep breath, Leah swallowed her reservations. "Let's get you cleaned up first," she said, her voice firm but laced with concern.
You offered a weak nod, leaning on her as she guided you further into the house. The weight of your body against hers was a stark reminder of the intimacy they'd shared, a stark contrast to the violence you were now escaping.
"Evan..." you manage, voice hoarse. "He...he didn't take the news well."
Your words spark a horrifying image in Leah's mind, as she recounts his forceful grabbing of your arm over the night.
You winced as her hand came towards your face looking to clean your lip. Leah began to remember all the previous times you had winced at a hand being raised towards you and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her next question.
"Did he…?" she started, then stopped. How to phrase the question delicately, when all she wanted to scream was, "Is this the first time done this?"
You seemed to understand her unspoken question. Shame flickered in your eyes before you dropped them to your hands.
The air hung heavy with the unspoken truth. Leah bit her lip, the concern for your well-being warring with a fresh wave of shame.
"Was this..." she started, her voice barely a whisper, "the reason you were hesitant with me? Because of him?"
You looked down at your feet, avoiding her gaze. A small, defeated nod escaped your lips.
The confirmation hit Leah like a punch to the gut. All this time, your distance, your mixed signals – it had all been because of Evan's abuse. A part of her wanted to be angry, to rage at you for not confiding in her sooner, but the bigger part ached for you, for the pain you must have endured in silence.
"Why didn't you say anything?" she finally asked, her voice thick with emotion.
You lifted your head, your eyes filled with a vulnerability that ripped at Leah's heart.
"I was scared," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "Scared of him, scared of losing everything – the team, you..."
The raw honesty in your voice resonated with Leah. She understood. The fear of losing everything you'd worked hard for was a powerful motivator, especially in the face of an abuser.
Placing a hand on your arm, this time gently, Leah offered a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now," she said softly. "He can't hurt you here."
The tenderness in her touch sent a wave of warmth through you. Looking into her eyes, you saw not judgment, but a wellspring of concern and a flicker of something more – a hint of the feelings you harboured for her as well.
"Leah I..." you started, your voice trailing off.
Leah squeezed your arm gently. "We can deal with everything else later. Right now, you need to rest and get cleaned up."
There was a silent understanding that bloomed between you. The night's events had irrevocably altered the course of your relationship. The truth, though brutal, had finally been laid bare. Whether there was a future for you and Leah, you didn't know yet. But for now, the solace of her presence, the promise of safety, was all that mattered.
Leah had gotten you up the stairs and to her bedroom before placing you gently on the bed and rushing to get you pyjamas for the night.
"Right, here's the pyjamas, you know where the toilet is eh i'll be in the other room just come wake me if you need me." As Leah began to walk off you grabbed her hand "Le....thank you." how could you ask her to stay after everything, she had opened her home for you, the pain you put her through.
Leah hesitates for a moment, caught between her lingering anger and the vulnerability in your eyes. "You deserve to be safe," she says softly, her eyes filled with concern, before walking out.
The night stretches on, a tangled mess of worry and a strange sense of vulnerability for Leah. She tosses and turns in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. Sleep eludes her, replaced by a constant replay of the night's events.
The image of you, battered and bruised, on her doorstep, had banished any lingering anger Leah felt. Now, a restless worry gnawed at her. Every creak of the floorboards sent her imagination into overdrive, conjuring visions of you tossing and turning in pain.
Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Leah crept out of her room and padded down the hallway towards yours. The soft glow of the bedside lamp peeked out from under the door, casting a warm rectangle on the floor.
Hesitantly, Leah pushed the door open a crack. You were lying on your back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. The harsh light accentuated the shadows of your injuries, making them look even worse.
"Can't sleep?" Leah asked softly, the door creaking slightly as she nudged it open further.
You flinched at the sound, your gaze snapping towards her. "Leah," you whispered, relief washing over your face. "I thought you were asleep."
Leah stepped into the room, the concern etched on her face evident in the dim light. "Couldn't," she admitted. "Is everything okay?"
You shook your head, the movement sending a jolt of pain through your throbbing cheek. "Just… thinking."
Leah felt a pang of sympathy. The weight of the night's events must be crushing. Taking a deep breath, she decided to offer some comfort.
"Would you like some company?" she asked gently. "Maybe some tea?"
A flicker of a smile touched your lips. "That would be nice," you rasped.
Leah smiled back, a genuine one this time, relieved to see a hint of your usual spirit flickering back to life. "Alright, I'll be right back."
She scurried out of the room, the sound of her footsteps a comforting rhythm in the quiet night. As she brewed the tea, a warmth spread through Leah's chest – a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot water.
Seeing you so vulnerable, so dependent on her care, had awakened a fierce protectiveness within her. But there was something else too, a deeper emotion that had been simmering beneath the surface all along.
Returning to the room with two steaming mugs, Leah settled on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd you. You reached out, taking the mug from her hand with a grateful smile.
For a while, you both sipped your tea in comfortable silence. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a shared understanding blooming between you.
Finally, you broke the silence, your voice still hoarse from the night's events. "Leah, about earlier..."
Leah met your gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. "We can talk about it all in the morning," she interrupted gently. "Right now, you need to rest."
You shook your head. "No Leah...I have to....you deserve to know," you stated your voice thick with emotion.
You picked at your fingers letting out a shaky breath " He was so sweet when I first met him, but it didn't last and I thought that what I had with him was all I was going to have, all I was worth, but then I met you after my transfer and you were so soft and gentle, even as a friend and I found myself falling for you.....I was just so scared to leave him and then.....then that night here with you...Evan..he...I was only ever there for him...for his pleasure but with you....I...You were gentle and loving and...you looked after me and I loved every second of it but felt so heartbroken too because it's all I ever wanted with the girl I dreamed of but I...he scares me....the things he does scares me and it was easier to leave the next morning and ignore you then fall into my feelings because I was terrified of the outcome."
Leah, her heart clenching with every word, listened intently as you poured out your story. The vulnerability in your eyes mirrored the turmoil within her. Here you were, laying bare your soul, and she understood in a way she never had before.
"Leah," you continued, your voice trembling slightly, "I know I messed up. I should have confided in you, but I was afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of what Evan might do."
Leah reached out, her hand hovering gently over yours. "It's okay," she whispered, the words thick with emotion. "I understand."
A tear escaped your eye, tracing a warm path down your cheek. You leaned into her touch, finding a solace you hadn't felt in a long time.
"Can you ever forgive me?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pining. Leah looked into your eyes, searching for the answer within them. The truth was, the anger had faded, replaced by a deep well of empathy and a growing affection for you.
"There's nothing to forgive," she finally said, her voice soft but firm. "You were in a difficult situation, and you did what you had to do to survive."
A tear rolls down your cheek, and you don't bother brushing it away. Relief washes over you, a sense of finally being understood. You take another sip of tea, the warmth spreading through you.
Leah, her heart clenching at your confession, reached out and placed a comforting hand over yours. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You're safe now."
Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as the dam of your emotions finally broke. You let out a choked sob, the exhaustion and fear of the night catching up to you. Leah held you close, her embrace a silent promise of safety and support.
As you cried, the story tumbled out – the manipulative games Evan played, the subtle threats that escalated into violence, the isolation that made you feel trapped. Leah listened patiently, her anger towards Evan burning hot alongside her protectiveness of you.
When your sobs subsided, leaving behind a shaky silence, Leah spoke softly. "You're so strong, Y/N," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "For enduring all that, for finally getting away."
You shook your head, a weak smile flickering on your lips. "Strong isn't exactly how I feel right now."
Leah squeezed your hand. "Maybe not. But you were brave. You came here, you faced the truth, and you're starting to heal."
A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the quiet sniffles and the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air, a question lingering between you.
Finally, Leah took a deep breath and broke the silence. "What do you want to do now, Y/N?" she asked gently.
You looked at her, your eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. "I...I don't know," you admitted. "All I know is...I don't want to go back to him."
Leah hummed running her fingers through your hair. "I want to be with you...I want to know what it's like to be loved by you."
Leah felt her heart flutter "I'll be happy to show you when your ready."
You turned to face her, your eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and lips "Can...Can i kiss you." Leah quickly nodded before pulling you closer and kissing you.
"Ow." you let out a soft groan at the sting of your lip, "Softer next time please." Leah smiled as you began to laugh "Softer every time."
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR EIGHTEEN
in which eddie shows you deftones, texts are missed and calls are answered, and lines are crossed once more for good measure.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, light dry humping?, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 4k+
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
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18:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00
Steve-O: rise and shine, campers! time to get back at it with these wellness checks. gonna need some proof you two are still alive.
HOUR EIGHTEEN - 9:00 AM 
Eddie’s eyes narrow in concentration at your phone as his thumbs fly across the screen, navigating the Spotify app with ease to find the Deftones song he specifically wants. He doesn’t do as you had and go to their artist page – he searches with purpose, in no mood to scroll through albums to find the song he’s looking for. 
“I still don’t understand how you can type so fast,” you mumble, watching with fascination that you try to tamper down with faux boredom, “Even I can’t type that fast, and I own the damn thing.” 
He doesn’t even glance up as he scrolls along the screen, finding the song and clicking on it, “I’m just good with my fingers.” 
There it goes. The air from your lungs, once again vacating the premises as he freezes beside you. 
It isn’t fair. An internal whine that nearly works itself up your throat and out your mouth, making you want to stomp your feet like a child. You hadn’t even recovered from the casual drop of baby yet. And now he’s going to just say that? 
“Oh, God, I-” he’s looking up finally, eyes wide and stuttering with embarrassment, “Fuck, I swear to God, I did not mean that as an innuendo.” 
You open your mouth. You close it. You repeat the process. You’re fucking speechless and it’s a little bit embarrassing. 
“I’m serious!” he persists when you don’t reply, and only stare at him in continued shock, “Seriously! I- Fuck, I was referring to with my job. At the autoshop. I’m- Fuck,” he cuts his explanation off, dragging a hand over his face and falling back into the couch, “Kill me. Kill me now, please – and be sure to make it quick and painless, pretty please.” 
You finally laugh. It’s a bit choked, a bit strangled, but it instantly has Eddie lowering his hand. 
“I think if we were going to kill each other, Munson, it would have happened hours ago,” you try to tease him, but something about the sentiment comes out far softer than you intended. Like it’s not a joke. Like, in your own odd way, you’re trying to whisper a truth to him – everything has changed for me now. 
“Probably,” he sighs, relaxing a bit and leaning back beside you as he looks to the phone once more and clicks on a song, “Proba-fucking-ly.” 
For the first two songs, there is a distance to be kept between the two of you. You peek at the screen and catch the titles – Cherry Waves and Sextape – and make a mental categorization of which one you enjoy more. You nearly audibly snort at Sextape, but manage to keep your immature humor to yourself. You prefer Cherry Waves, anyways. 
  The songs that follow become a bit of a blur. Because for the first two, the distance existed. You can focus on the guitar and the vocals and the bass drum and everything except the man sitting beside you. But then song three comes on. 
Fucking song three. You don’t catch the name, but it might be your favorite yet. Or you might be biased. 
Because it’s during this third song that something changes. Eddie is no longer content in just leaning back beside you, in letting you consume the new music in a sort of solitude that was impressive to achieve when not actually alone. You first notice his restlessness in the bounce of his knee, shaking beside yours as he finally puts the phone down on the coffee table rather than balanced on his thigh. You don’t comment on it, you let it slide. You faux indifference. But then, the flexing of his hand starts.
It’s odd. Sure, plenty of people mess with their hands in relation to nerves, but you’ve never seen it happen like that before. The slow stretch of him pushing his fingers to their limits before retracting them, bending his knuckles as he tucks the tips in. The veins along the top of his hand popping exceptionally. 
“I’m just good with my fingers.”
I fucking bet he is. 
You curse yourself for the warmth that burns in the pit of your stomach. Focus. You should be focusing on the music, on taking in what he’s sharing with you. 
Not on his hands. Specifically his fingers, and how good they’d feel-
Fucking stop it. Cut it out. No. 
It takes an ungodly amount of willpower for you to look away, but you manage it. Unfortunately, what you don’t manage to do is ignore the bouncing of his leg. You don’t manage to extinguish that burning that he’s begun in you — a fire started from his kindle. 
Impulsive. Impulsive, and a little stupid, and endlessly daring. That’s what it is when you finally reach out a hand to land on his knee midsong. 
The shaking immediately ceases, and you take over the soothing motions as you let your thumb initially rub in arcs against the side of his thigh. With each strum of the guitar that rings out, you let your thumb complete its semicircle motion. With each pounding of drums, you give a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t say a word about it, and neither do you. Especially when he drops his hand over yours, wiggling his fingers between yours with the failure of a casual grace. You try not to smile as you flip your hand and let him properly intertwine them.
Flexing, but this time, it’s to squeeze your palm to his. You still think about those goddamn fingers.
“So, what do you think so far?” Eddie asks after he clears his throat.
“They’re good,” you nod, finding yourself shuffling subconsciously closer to him now that he’s gripping onto your hand, “Really good.” 
“I’m just good with my fingers.”
You know that he’s more than just good. Just like Deftones, you’d dare say he’s really good. 
The song switches, and both of you have scooted close enough to one another that your thighs press together. Shoulder to shoulder, sharing enough space to feel his breath on the side of your bare neck. 
His grip on your hand tightens.
You want the opposite. You suddenly want his hand to detach from yours and to find home on your cheeks, hands on either side of your face before he’s pulling you into him, throwing caution and formality to the wind. You two have already crossed that line; why was it so hard to take that leap once more? 
The song is still playing. You don’t recognize the tinny guitars that are on the loop of repeating the same notes, an echo effect of sorts layered over them. 
It’s just the guitar. And suddenly, the rasps of Eddie’s breaths are something your acutely aware of. Like he’s closer, like he’s letting his head tilt even closer to you. You feel that heat transferring between your biceps that are smashed together, not even thin layers of t-shirt or the sleeve of the crew neck able to stop it. 
It all happens suddenly.
The guitar pauses and Eddie’s hand loosens in yours. Your heart races, and you realize you’re preparing yourself for what he’s doing before he’s even sprung into action. 
Kiss me, the sigh you let out whispers.
It’s answered by the song, and by Eddie. A combination of the two that you can’t differentiate. 
The silence in the song is cut off by whimpers. One from the lead singer on the track, one from Eddie. Both breathy, both shakey, both whispering of the loss of control.
“Fuck it.”
Two words. He says those two words again as his warning before he lets go of your hand and is reaching up, shifting your two bodies impossibly quick as his hands do exactly as you had craved. One on each cheek, and then he does it.
He kisses you.
It is neither kind nor gentle, despite the allusion that it might have been from the way he cradles your cheeks. The callouses on his fingers scrape your cheeks, you can feel every crack in his bottom lip as it slots between your own. It’s easy and quick work, the way your mouths can mold together so effortlessly. Tongues that were once so sharp as they’d spit venomous words at once another now meet and pass over teeth, blurring the lines of where you end and he begins — of where hatred ended and this began. 
Whatever it is, whatever it will be for these last few hours, whatever it will be once the clock runs out, you’re grateful. You, your vinery, your civility — they all scream their prayers of thanks as his hands drop from your cheeks and find your hips. You don’t even process that he’s tugging you onto his lap or that you’re letting him until it’s happened. Your thighs bracket his own hips, and he gives you no time before he’s pressing your full weight into him, hands clawing at you, desperate to keep you close. 
You can’t even hear the song anymore over the roar of your own heart.
“Baby,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you realize now what the price is. 
The price is your sanity. The price is a loss of control, and letting him consume you whole. A small price in the grand scheme of it all.
“I-“ you start a sentence that you have no idea of what the ending would be, but he interrupts with his mouth. The teeth your tongue had once met bite down on your lip and you swear you taste blood, swear you see crimson as he sighs out again into your open mouth. 
His hands guide your hips against his. A steady rhythm, and with only a few passes, you can feel him harden against you. Your pace picks up of your own doing, the friction of your panties and his pajama pants nudging your clit and leaving you breathless. 
What the fuck are we doing?
You should stop it. You should mind the delicate balance you two have been trying to achieve since you first crossed this line. 
You only push down harder on him, only bite down on his lip as he had yours. This time, blood might have honestly been drawn — the hiss that escapes him says it all. 
“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he chastises you between kisses, “You want to know what was fucking wrong earlier? You. You are driving me insane, you are driving me straight into the fucking grave.” 
Oh.
Oh.
The way he had leapt up. His nervous energy. The way he had put as much space between the two of you as possible.
“I affect you that much?”
It is not a confident question — you completely pull away from him, leaning back as you breathe it out, hands finding home on his shoulders as you survey him.
He’s being honest. 
His pupils are wide but those brown, doe eyes have softened as they meet your gaze. His chest is heaving, his lips are already bruising pink as they fall apart so casually. 
He’s being honest. 
You affect him, you’re doing this to him — he’s caught up in flames, no sign of salt water in sight. 
“You always do,” he says, “Always have. Probably always will.” 
Your grip on his shoulders tighten. 
I could never hate you. 
How blind you had been. How absolutely, blissfully unaware you had been functioning all these months. 
A hand trails from its grip on his shoulders, fingers slipping over his bare collar bone, “What do you mea-“ 
You don’t get to finish the question or dig any deeper into the revelation. The music both of you had long since abandoned has been replaced by the ringing of your phone.
Eddie’s eyes immediately pinch shut, face twisting with irritation. You can’t tell if he’s more annoyed at the interruption due to whatever breakthrough you two were on the precipice of, or because he’s still painfully hard beneath you. But he quickly wraps one arm around your waist, tugging your torso flush to his as he leans forward quickly and reaches out to grab your phone. 
“Oh, what the fuck,” he huffs once his eyes are open again and he’s looking at your phone screen.
Your face has been pressed into the crook of his neck due to the current position and way he’s tightly holding you to him. You have no clue who it is, but you have five decent guesses to throw out. 
He answers for you. Sharply and bitterly, he snaps out a, “What do you want, Harrington?” 
Steve. One of the five guesses. Go figure.
“Yes, we’re fucking alive,” Eddie holds no patience for your friend, all the softness he’d held for you gone save for the stroke of his thumb against the bare small of your back, “We were-“ 
A pause. You wonder for a second if he is going to admit it. If right here, right now, he would confess to your friends what has happened. How he could never hate you, how you drive him insane, how by nothing changing that everything has changed.
“Sleeping.” 
An answer to your question. You hate your disappointment, and bite it down with vengeance. 
You can faintly hear Steve’s voice over the phone, not quite as trilling or pitched as Nancy’s or Robin’s. Eddie’s annoyance still rolls off of him in waves, and you imagine that you’d catch him rolling his eyes along with his little huffs of air if you were to finally lift your head from his neck. But you’re selfish, and his arm is still around you waist as it presses you tight to his chest, so you indulge yourself. You dig your nose deeper against the junction of his neck, you take in his lingering cologne and let the stray curls tickle your cheeks. 
You should have known he wouldn’t admit it.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie grumbles into the phone, barely getting out the repetitive word before his breath hitches as you pucker your lips against the skin you’ve been burrowing into. It’s only a chaste kiss, but it has its desired effect, “Okay, Harrington. We’ll send a fucking photo. You done?”
Then it hits you. A fun game, a distraction from your disappoint and a way to crawl under his skin all in one. You fight hard not to let a smile spread at the risk of him feeling it against his neck as you take a deep breath in through your nose, noticing the way his shoulder nearly reflexively lifts slightly as if it tickles, because you’re puckering your lips again.
The second chaste kiss is testing the waters. He doesn’t react. And so you go forth with your plan, mouth falling open, teeth grazing his jugular.
He reacts microscopically. His chest halts movement.
It’s not enough for you.
So you suck. Hard. Puckered lips and a vendetta to prove, you let your teeth bite at the skin that sucks into your mouth. 
That does the trick.
“O-Okay!” he yelps out in surprise, his hand bruising as he grips you harder. He tries to pull his neck back from you, but his hand only presses you down onto his lap and you feel his dick twitch beneath his thin pants, “Christ, Harrington. We fucking get it. We’ll send a photo. And we won’t sleep another wink, so bite me,“ he pants out as you move to the spot beneath his ear, finding where his jaw connects to his throat, repeating the process and doing exactly as he had told Steve. His hips buck up into you, “Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harrington. Bye.” 
You’re grinning wildly against his ear as he tosses your phone carelessly somewhere on the couch — or maybe the floor, you couldn’t tell at this point — before he’s flipping you down onto your back on the couch and hovering over you.
Your head falls back instinctually, leaving your neck open for him to begin an assault of kisses.
“Are-“ A kiss. “You-“ A bite. “Fucking-“ A soothing lathe of tongue over the bite. “Kidding-“ A harsh suck. “Me.”
You writhe beneath him, but he’s pressing his entire weight down onto you, hips slotted between yours and one hand  pinning both your wrists to the cushion above as the other stays glued to your waist. 
“Did you think that was funny?” he breathes out against you, letting the tip of his nose barely graze over the base of your throat, “Doing that shit while I was trying to talk Harrington down from that damn ledge?” 
“Why was he on the ledge to begin with?” you breathily question, trying to move your hands from his grasp, the urge to run your fingers through his curls growing. He only tightens his hold.
“Apparently,” he pauses and presses a quick kiss at the edge of the sweatshirt collar, looking up at you through his bangs and lashes, “He had texted, and we didn’t respond. Photos are back in demand.” 
“We’re quite the commodity,” you try to joke, avoiding his gaze. Trying to avoid the softness buried deep inside there, all soft and melted in shades of brown, “We should start charging them.” 
“We are charging them, technically,” he snorts, finally letting go of your wrists and leveling his face above yours.
Right. You keep forgetting the promise of a cash prize if you make it out of this alive. 
Alive, not unscathed. 
You’re already picturing that cash as blood money, some pathetic trophy that won’t even begin to cover the irreversible scars that will be left behind. All the hurt, all the fights, all the realizations — no amount of promised money can erase them.
You start to consider what could erase them, but you stop yourself when you realize that that admittance is too heavy. 
He’s here. The weight of him is pressing into you, the smell of him is encasing you, and the stare of his big brown eyes is locking you in. You have him. For a few more hours, you have him.
The wounds can wait. The time to heal and scar over will come later.
“I guess they are, huh?” you laugh when you realize you’ve gone too long without replying. 
The stare turns curious. Still melted chocolate, still deathly soft for you, but curious all the same. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” 
You’re about to retreat into your own head and consider what he might do with his share of the cash, but that voice in your mind whispers once more.
He’s here. You have him. Just ask him.
“What are you doing with your money?” you blurt out. 
He chuckles and shakes his head, curls falling over his shoulders and creating a curtain as he continues to balance his weight on his forearms settled on each side of your head, still hovering over you.
You should probably comment on that. Make a snide remark about it. Shove him off.
You don’t.
“Is that really want you’d like to talk about right now?” 
Right, the weight of his hips as he rolls them gently into you reminds you of what the two of you had been doing before the phone call. The boundaries you’d hopped right over, all the lines you two had been in the process of crossing.
The affect you have on him.
Your stomach twists and suddenly your legs fall open wider to welcome him in, only to wrap them up around his waist. He lets you, lets you pull him right in until your chests are flush to each other. The only thing separating your skin from his is this damn sweatshirt. 
“I… Maybe,” you force out just before his lips capture yours. It’s not as urgent as when he’d pulled you in for a kiss to Deftones, but it’s still enough to shatter every bone in your body before melding them all back together into something new, something different.
Something changed. 
Eddie smiles, and it’s almost shyly. “Maybe?”
You hum, but it’s cut off, caught in your throat with another roll of Eddie’s hips. 
“Okay. Let’s talk about it then, sweetheart.” 
Another roll of his hips, and you lift your own to meet the thrust this time, trying to catch him against you in a way for reprieve. You can feel the wet patch gathering on your panties, your thighs clenching onto his hips harder. 
“What ever shall I do with my money?” he pretends to ponder, eyes shooting up to look away from you in faux contemplation. 
As he does it, one of his hands wander over your sternum, dancing above the fabric of the borrowed clothes. 
“Maybe I’ll buy a new bike,” he muses, the hand wandering lower, tracing a steady line down your abdomen, “Maybe I’ll get myself a new guitar.” 
His hand has reached the hem of the sweatshirt, slips beneath it and plays with the edge of your panties. 
Your mouth will be your damnation as you snipe back, “Or maybe you can buy yourself a whole collection of playboys, filled with plenty of models who definitely don’t look like someone you claim to hate.” 
His hand retracts immediately, and you can’t help but begin to giggle.
“Wait, wait, wait,” you start to gasp out when he lifts away from you, reaching out to grab onto him. 
He’s fast, but your hands are quicker. You wrap them around the back of his neck and tug him into you, only for him to continue to lift himself up and bring you with him as well this time. 
You resemble a koala, and can only imagine what the scene looks like to an outsider. 
“Eddie!” you practically squeal, and can feel the vibrations of his own laughter as he sits up on his knees, you still clinging to him.
His arms wrap around you and you lean back, catching that mischievous glint in his eyes. It breaks through the softness, burns brightly in your chest as your laughter fades into soft breaths that hit his freckled cheeks.
You stare at each other for a moment, a tangle of limbs and unspoken words. His earlier admission isn’t forgotten, the lines crossed all painted in red now.
He’s here. You have him, for now. 
You can only imagine the claw marks you will be leaving behind when the clock strikes twenty four hours, and you’re forced to leave him and this behind. 
“You, sweetheart,” he finally breaks the silence with gentle smirk, “are a certified boner killer.” 
You don’t miss a beat, reaching down between you two, hand cupping his still prominent erection, “You sure about that?” 
He only groans in response, and in your following cackles, your hold on him slips. 
He could have let you fall back roughly on the couch, especially given his distraction with fighting his ever growing smirk. He could have let you smack your head back on the cushion and let you deal with the dull ache that would have followed. He could have, he could have, he could have.
He doesn’t. 
He guides you back with his arms still tight around you. Makes sure that you land softly against the worn plush. Takes his time removing his grip on you before he’s standing up from the couch.
You lay back, so sincerely content as you let out a final breath of a laugh and watch him shake his head in amusement as he turns to leave. 
“Where are you going?” if it weren’t for the residual giddiness of the moment, you’d have been embarrassed by the clinginess that had threaded its way into your tone.
“The bathroom,” he answers without hesitation, back facing you as he starts down the short hall.
You call after him, “Okay. Don’t take too long this time!” 
Even as his laughter echoes faintly, you know you still have him. For now.
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