#i did it in like four hours because i was fucking PRESSED for time. that was a merchant & mills pattern iirc

[mildmayfoxe]

i meant to post this yesterday but when i saw my sister yesterday she was wearing the shirt i made her in 2019 for her college graduation present !!!! here’s a pic from when i finished it

its this cute little windowpane check linen tunic with a contrast light green patch pocket & i matched the bias tape…. i always forget i can sew! and the top stitching on the pocket was so neat when i looked at it yesterday too! i’m so touched that she still has it & it’s holding up & looking good. i should make more clothes

[hellfire--cult]

MafiaBoss!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader

wc: 17k

+18, omegaverse, boss and secretary, possessive behaviour, jealousy, blood mentions, biting, rough, smut, p in v (unprotected), oral (both ways), slight dubcon at a point, mentions of nancy x reader, fingering, heat and rutting behaviour, breeding kink, spit, marking, degradation

Plot: Being the secretary of a Mafia boss was not easy, much less when you believed your boss was your scent mate and you knew he made your omega coworkers stay after hours to fuck them, yet he never called you to stay. It was time to move on, but your boss smelled the scent of another Alpha on you and decided to make sure you knew who you belonged to.

A/N: it was intended to be just a smut thing, never to be this long. Oh well, enjoy 9k words of pure filth out of that count. this isn't the header i intended, but it'll do

Don't be lazy and reblog.

AFTER HOURS

You didn’t want to pay it much attention. 

You absolutely didn’t. 

But you couldn’t help yourself as you smelled him, walking through the doors a room away. That scent was filled with ash and iron, yet it was intoxicating in the most addicting of ways. You didn’t want to be loving his scent, but you just couldn't avoid it. The omega inside of you always craved to go closer for a deeper smell, but you couldn’t.

He is your boss and you can’t want him this way. You can’t. You’re his secretary, well, one of them. There are four of you in total, always sitting outside of his office at your respective desks. Your coworkers are Omegas, just like yourself, and you have known them for over six months since you started working here.

You found the job offer through a friend of yours, Robin. Your beta best friend that told you her girlfriend was looking for a new secretary at her workplace. You were desperate to leave your old job, being dragged around by a misogynistic Alpha, telling you you were too dumb to be more than a mere assistant, even if you were great at your work and did it all so he would not have anything to do during the day.

You were shoving your resume in Robin’s hands the second she said that. You wanted out, you needed out, and Robin gladly passed it on to her girlfriend. You were called for an interview a week later, but you didn’t expect the job offer to come from one of the highest social buildings in the city. 

You never knew what was inside but you could only guess it was a big company of some sort. When walking through the building, you could smell iron all around you, not blood to be exact, but just a strong smell. It smelled… powerful. A scent that intensified the more you walked through the office.

Then you finally saw Chrissy, going into a glassed room for your interview. You had met Chrissy before, but just a wave from afar. Robin told you Chrissy preferred to stay away from social events, or from meeting new people because of her work. That threw you off but your friend smiled apologetically and you didn’t press on the subject.

As the interview went on, the iron smell got stronger, sharper, only for you to turn around and for your eyes to clash against deep brown ones with dilated pupils. The smell was coming from him. From the man dressed in black outside of the room, his face almost touching the glass, his breath fogging it from how hard he was inhaling and exhaling. 

You remember how awe-struck you were with him, and you remember how badly you wanted to get up from your chair to rush after him. But you saw him take a step back, giving Chrissy a nod and then walking away. You were confused and looked at Chrissy with a questioning look and that’s when you found out.

This was the Komodo mafia gang. They owned many businesses, residences, buildings… You were being interviewed to be Eddie Munson’s secretary. Eddie Munson is an alpha, and the boss of this gang. The owner. The leader. 

Your thoughts were cut off when you saw the doors open, your head whipping to the side to see your boss walking in, ripping his blazer off, the smell of actual blood rushing into the room. All the omegas winced at the smell, as well as the other betas that were walking around with paperwork in their hands. 

Your worry raised, unlike the other Omegas who were aroused or scared in the room, you were worried. Did something happen to him? Is the blood splattered on his shirt his own? Someone else’s? Your nose twitched as a sweet note of vanilla invaded you, and you saw Eddie walking by your desk, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Anything I need to catch up on?” His voice was low as he stood in front of your desk and you stood up as you tried to go back into your professional stance, shaking your head.

“No sir. I already knew that Kromstar’s dealership had to be sealed in the morning, so I took care of that.” You stood proudly, chin tilted up as you looked at your boss’s reaction. A small smirk was sent your way, followed by a single nod. You grabbed the paperwork from your desk and raised it towards him.

“Perfect. Good job my Rose.” He leaned forward, his hands reaching to hold the paperwork, but the tip of his index finger ran over yours and your breath left your lungs for a second as an electric shock ran down your spine. Your eyes locked with his as you saw his nose flare up slightly and then he took a step back from you.

“Do you– need me to get you some fresh clothes, Mr. Munson?” You kept your voice to a normal level, steady, professional. He shook his head as his eyes scanned your face, only to then look away and start walking towards his office.

“No, Chrissy already prepared stuff for me.” And like that, the scent slowly went away as he closed the doors to his office behind him. You turned your head to see the other omegas and betas looking at you and then returned to their business. 

You sighed as you sat down again. Rose. His Rose. Eddie named his workers with flowers, but the only one that he called by her name was Chrissy. Steve, the male omega, he called Sunflower. Heather, the other female omega, he called Cosmo, and then Carol he called Carnation.

When you were named Rose you were surprised. You wondered what color of rose he pictured when naming you it. Was it pink? Red? White? A rosebud? A single rose? What colors were the other Omegas? Either way, your name caused a string of rumors that didn’t cease until a month later from your first day at your new job.

But he never referred to them as… his. You were the only one. You always wondered why.

You looked up to see Steve and Heather gossiping, and you wondered why you were never close to them. It was fairly civil, but you can’t say you shared a single lunch with them, nor with Carol. You guessed you were not part of their group because–

“Sunflower.” Chrissy’s voice made your head snap towards the big black office doors, her head peeking out. She sent a small greeting smile your way, which you reciprocated before she turned her head back to Steve, who was standing up from his desk so the Alpha knew she had his attention. “Stay after hours tonight.”

You heard a chirp coming from Steve’s way, the scent of lust filling the room as well as happiness. Heather’s scent soured as she received a shoulder wiggle from Steve, showing himself off. Your stomach twirled, moved all around, and you looked down at your paperwork, knowing your scent might be bitter.

You felt your body burn with anger, sadness, and jealousy, the omega inside of you wanting to let out a whine of distress. It was not fair. You were pretty sure you were the one who wanted him the most, you were sure of it… Six months you worked here, six months you’ve seen the other three omegas being called in for after hours, knowing damn well the Alpha was fucking them behind his office doors, and…

You were never called.

Not once. You came to the conclusion he did it to keep it professional with at least one of his secretaries, but– why did it have to be you? Why? His scent drives you crazy, so much so that after that first interview you went into a triggered heat, and you weren’t even near your heat date. 

But you felt his stare. You felt it many times. You saw how his nose flared every time he came close to you, smelling you, taking in your scent just like you did with him. Your omega wanted to jump on the Alpha, and much more knowing he is a good man. He donates to schools and helps with the medical bills of many elderly people in the hospitals. Elderly people that have no one or very little. Not to mention how safe you knew you would be with someone like him. You and your pups would be cared for exceptionally.

Your Omega yearns to be submissive to this Alpha, to be bred by him, mated, protected… But Eddie can’t even see you as a random fuck. He sees you as just what you are. His secretary. You are nothing else but his dutiful, professional secretary. Nothing more, nothing less. You were the only secretary he didn’t fuck so that the job gets done, unlike the other three.

But later on, when you were already out of the office doors, you noticed you left your jacket behind. You would have not cared for it and just retrieved it the next day if it weren't for the fact that it was a friday, and it was your favorite jacket. So you went back up, all the way to the 23rd floor. 

And god you wish you hadn’t.

The smell of sex filled your nostrils as you walked out of the elevator doors. His scent, spiked, aroused, strong, and fierce. You walked by the cubicles where a few betas were still typing away stuff, only caring for the job to be done. Guards stood by the door where your desk was, your office.

You were let in and you felt your knees weaken and tremble the closer you got to the desk, which was the closest to Eddie’s door. His office. You could hear the purring, the moaning, Steve calling Eddie’s name, and–

“Alpha– Knot me– Knot me, please–”

You felt like vomiting. You needed to get out of there. You needed to run. You needed to leave this place. Your hand snatched the jacket off the back of your chair and you rushed out of the doors and past all the cubicles. You didn’t want to think about it. You couldn’t bear to think about Eddie knotting someone. 

As soon as the doors of the elevators closed, you let yourself whine and sob a couple of times as tears filled your eyes. Why do you feel so rejected? Nothing ever happened between the two of you. Nothing. The words were very little, and the most physical contact you had with him was the brushing of fingertips when he reached for something that was on your hand.

It didn’t make sense, but it might mean you found your scent mate… only that it’s one-sided. If it is that, you would have to leave the city. Leaving the job only won’t do the trick, you need to leave the city, fuck, even the state. 

You felt your belly cramp less and less the more floors you went down and the less you could smell the aroused Omega and the feral Alpha. You can’t keep doing this. Maybe you need the distraction. You need someone else.

These six months you’ve been working here, there was this pull or this sense of respect that didn’t allow you to properly agree to dates or encounters with other people. Not even betas. You didn’t know why but you just felt like you needed to reject these advances. Your hands gripped your purse and zipped it open, taking out your cell phone and opening your Instagram.

Maybe this will help you feel better.

It did, yet it didn’t.

It did because Nancy was very sweet. The Alpha met you through Robin at a party once, and you chatted all night long, exchanging usernames on Instagram with one another. She messaged you a couple of times but soon after you started your new job and you didn’t feel the need to engage with her in such a manner any longer.

And when meeting with her she was kind, and respectful, and you were the one that had to initiate the flirting stance of the night out. Nancy was a good alpha. She looked like she could take care of you, so you didn’t mind when she asked if you wanted to go back to her place. 

That’s when your mind couldn’t help but think of someone else when having sex with Nancy.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to imagine him, but you felt like if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to even suck her cock. You don’t know what to make out of it, but you wanted her to knot you. You wanted it so you could confirm if you had an unrequited scent mate situation, and by the looks of it, it seems you did… You didn’t let Nancy knot you. You backed out at the last minute.

Her knot bumped into your entrance a couple of times, but you couldn’t let it in. You just let out warning growls at her everytime it did and Nancy respected it. But, even amidst all of that, you at least had your thirst quenched. Even if a bit and with someone you didn’t truly want.

Now monday, back in the forsaken office you want to burn down to start a whole new torturous week. You were at your desk, putting your paperwork away as Carol talked to you from hers, steps away from yours.

“Someone had fun.” She snickers as she chews on her gum and you glance once at her and back down, Steve’s voice filling your ears.

“Carol, knock it off.” Out of the three omegas, Steve was the most tolerable one. You looked up at him and he gave you a nod and then looked back down at his papers. Carol scrunched her nose and then started writing down on her contracts. 

You wondered if the three showers you took were not enough. You were sure it was enough. You didn’t have any marks on you, you told Nancy not to leave any. You sighed at how unprofessional this might make you seem in front of everyone. You tried taking the scent off but it seems it didn’t work and now everyone knows. 

The iron scent filled your nostrils and you knew your boss got off the elevator. All of you got up from your desks to receive your boss, but your nose scrunched when you started smelling something bitter or pungent. The doors opened with Eddie, followed by Chrissy right on his heels. His hands were in his pockets as the four secretary omegas gave a nod and a greeting to their boss. 

He was about to pass by you but he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head as you saw his nose flaring slightly. The scent in the room became a little suffocating, your knees feeling like they wanted to give up on you and it seemed that it was taking an effect on the other omegas because you could hear Heather whining in fear in the corner of the room.

You didn’t know what was going on, but then another scent joined in, spicy, alarmed. Chrissy was inspecting Eddie’s back and then she slowly turned to face you. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a deep breath in. 

Your eyes were wide, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you saw Eddie slowly turning to face you. His eyes were black, pure black. You could feel your omega wanting to submit, to ask for forgiveness, but for what? You didn’t do anything wrong, so why is his anger directed towards you? 

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice was small and worried, but you needed to know why he was looking at you like he wanted to… kill you? 

“Mr. Munson, I think we should head inside.” Chrissy’s hand pressed on his shoulder as Eddie’s eyes kept scanning you, from head to toe. Did you do something? Did you forget to do paperwork on friday? Did you miss a client? No, it’s not like you… but who knows? You are human.

Eddie’s face got closer to yours as you stood there, looking at him as he towered over you, his presence bigger than this room, and you felt like you were being suffocated. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, his breath hitting your face as it came out of his nostrils in harsh puffs. 

His face was tense, his jaw clenched, and a vein was popping out on his forehead. Then you heard a low rumble, a vibration and you realized that he was growling. Your boss was growling at you. You whined slightly now, knowing you had done something wrong. You didn’t know what but he was displeased with you, no, he was angry, furious with you.

“Sir–” Chrissy tried again, this time more alarmed, more pressure in her tone, but keeping her Alpha rank below Eddie’s. She sounded worried as she looked at you and then back at Eddie, and– was he going to fire you? What did you do?

Eddie growled loudly as a rough hand made your pen holder fly across the room and hit the wall with force. You gasped and jumped one step back at the sudden aggressiveness, never having seen your boss like this. You were scared, worried, alarmed, but you wanted to apologize, for whatever you did. 

The male Alpha huffed once and marched into his office. Chrissy was breathing heavily and then looked at you, shaking her head to calm you down. You didn’t notice the whine that was leaving your throat until Chrissy tried to shush you.

“What– Did I forget to do something on friday?” You were trembling, and Chrissy shook her head and was about to press a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, only to retreat before doing so.

“N-No… he– had a rough weekend. Please, don’t be alarmed omegas, just– Please, have a twenty-minute break and come back.” Chrissy gave you one last glance before she turned and rushed into the Alpha’s office. You looked at the other Omegas in the room and they were as confused as you but more scared. The guard nodded to you all towards the other door, and you wanted to barge into his office and ask if he was okay. Ask for forgiveness, or do something to make him feel better.

But as you were escorted out for your break, you started hearing things breaking inside his office as well as muffled yelling. You held a whine in as your body trembled and then you walked out of your office. You looked at the other three omegas who only crossed their arms at you with frowns on their faces.

“What the fuck did you do?” Heather asked and you shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I– I swear I don’t know, I– I did all my work on friday and I rechecked today and everything is fine?” Your heart wanted to explode and your stomach twisted with nerves and you needed to pace. You needed to let go of the energy that was consuming you. The omegas followed you as you walked towards the balcony to get some air, the murmurs of your other coworkers making your head throb. You didn’t need the speculations or people making more rumors about you. Not right now.

“You did something! Did you check properly?” Steve asked this time and you growled at them, taking them aback. Omegas hardly growled, only when purely distressed or displeased.

“I didn’t! Maybe it was one of you that lacked on their job to get their pussy wet with the boss and since I’m the only one that actually works, I get the fucking blame!” Your voice was loud, high-pitched, angry, and fed up. Carol cleared her throat and scoffed as she squinted at you.

“Don’t blame it on us. It’s not our fault he doesn’t want to touch a single strand of your head.” Your heart plummeted to the ground at that and Steve pressed a hand on Carol’s shoulder only for her to rip it out of his grasp and walk away. 

You were looking down at the floor, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You heard Steve and Heather mumble something to one another before walking away, and then all you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. What did you do? What have you done so badly, so wrongly, for him to get angry like this?

Will you get fired? Maybe… Fuck, what if you do get fired? But didn’t you want to? Wasn’t that one of the best decisions for you? You didn’t want to feel this anymore, this rejection, this pain in your gut. You don’t want to be near him any longer, not if you have to watch him be with others all the time. Watch him choose others before you. You can’t keep doing that to yourself.

So maybe if he fires you it is for the best. Whatever the reason might be. You would be able to move on at one point, leaving the city, away from him and his scent. Yes, it will hurt leaving Robin behind, but you can’t bear it. You can’t. Seeing him this angry at you, not only makes you feel little and useless, but also it adds up to the rejection. You feel unwanted, undesired.

You take your time, taking deep breaths before walking back. The other three already returned to their desks, but you took one more minute to yourself. You took a deep breath in before you walked through your office doors and you could hear your coworkers typing away, in silence.

The air was tense, the scent around you all was covered by sprays and blockers, yet you could still smell the bitterness, the sourness, the musk. You just wanted to head home. You needed to head home. Maybe you can call Chrissy and tell her you don’t feel well. Yeah, you’ll do that.

You walked towards your desk and slowly sat down on your chair. As soon as you did, Eddie’s door opened and Chrissy walked out, closing the door behind her. All the omegas snapped their heads to look at her, expectantly, except for you. You knew that when Chrissy walked out of Eddie’s office it meant–

“You’ll stay after hours tonight.” That. She always says that. Wait–

“Huh?” Your head snapped upwards to see Chrissy looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“You’ll stay after hours tonight. No questions asked, you cannot reject it. You must stay.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked at how she turned and walked back into the black doors, the guard moving away for her to enter. You looked at the door, and stared at it as if what just happened was a fantasy that happened in your head. There’s– 

Your breathing accelerated as you looked down at the desk. This wasn’t like when he asked for Steve or Heather or Carol to stay, wasn’t it? You couldn’t smell anything, fuck, you couldn’t smell what he was feeling at all. You can still smell the bitterness despite the blockers in the room, but you don’t know if it is remnants of before or–

“Hey, hey, you need to calm down.” You didn’t notice Steve was in front of you with worry in his eyes as he rested his palms on your desk. You looked at him, frowning, lip trembling, and you didn’t notice the whines coming from your throat. Your eyes filled with tears as the anxiety consumed you, and you were in clear distress.

“I mean, Steve, she has every right to be like this, it’s not like he is calling her to do what he does to us.” Heather snickered on the corner, disguising her displeasure of you being called tonight, but also calm because the boss was not in a good mood at all. That comment didn’t make you feel any better, if anything, it made you feel worse. 

The first time you are asked to stay after hours, and it’s because you might get fired or– killed? It looked like that. He looked like he was going to eat you or rip you to shreds, not sexually. It didn’t look like that for you at all, and the scent he was leaving was a clear giveaway.

“Heather, shut the fuck up, you’re not helping.” Steve bared his teeth slightly at the coworker and all you could do was stare down at your desk. You started frowning as you looked down at your papers. Everything is fine… You know it. You know everything you did was right and on time. Work wise? You were impeccable.

Your posture changed as you straightened up and took a deep breath in. You cleared your throat and gathered your papers and looked at your computer. You will recheck but, you know everything was fine. You looked at Steve and directed a soft smile his way.

“I’m fine. It was nice working with you Steve, I say this just in case we don’t see eachother after today.” Your voice became low, calm as your thoughts settled. Whatever you did, it wasn’t of your knowledge, or whatever someone else did and blamed it on you. You know you did everything right, so even if you’re scared… terrified, you will stand your ground.

Steve only cleared his throat and walked back to his desk as Heather and Carol looked back down to their computers as they shared one look. It wasn’t nice working with them, you weren’t going to lie to them, but Steve was the only one that helped you with stuff, despite him fucking your possible scent mate.

Now it was a matter of waiting, looking at your watch as the hours went by, and your nerves started eating away your intestines, your stomach, just everything. You felt like you were being consumed slowly but you had to keep your head straight. You were not going to be chewed for something you didn’t do, or a misunderstanding, or a rumor.

You might not return to your office tomorrow, so you started putting some of your stuff all together in your drawer, maybe someone will bring you a cardboard box for later on. Steve was looking at you from the corner of his eye, eyebrows frowned as he typed away.

And then, 6 PM arrived. Chrissy walked out from the black doors and looked at the other three Omegas with a sharp look.

“Leave immediately.” Your breath was taken out of your lungs as you heard her authoritative tone, her Alpha voice vibrating against the walls of your office. Steve gave you one last look before he got up from his chair and ducked his head as a goodbye. You stayed in your chair as you saw how the other omegas left the office giving you final glances.

Your heart was accelerated, wanting to break out from your chest and you felt the blood rushing through your ears like a waterfall. You looked at Chrissy and she turned to face the guard. Without a word, the guard that was on Eddie’s door walked out of your office, surprising you because the guards never left.

“Um… why is Geoffrey–” 

“You must stay on this floor. The boss doesn’t want…” Chrissy bit her tongue as she looked at you with a frown. You didn’t know if it was stern, or worried, or a mixture of both. “Get inside his office once you do not hear anyone else. Good luck Rose.”

And then you saw Chrissy walking out of the door of your office. You sucked in a breath as you saw from the open door how all the betas were being commanded to leave, which never happened. There were always a few who stayed or did night shifts. Your breath was heavy as you realized Chrissy was clearing out the floor, leaving you and Eddie as the only people on it.

You heard the elevator ding many times as people left. You still couldn’t smell anything, and you didn’t notice you were scratching the wood of your desk from your anxiety. You sharpened your ear until no more dings came from outside. You gulped as you shakily stood up from your chair and looked at the big black double doors. 

You stepped away and fixed yourself, wanting to appear unaffected or as professional as possible, not wanting him to know how anxious you were. You took a few steps towards his office, your heels clicking on the floor. You took a sharp deep breath in as your hand trembled, grabbing the door handle. You then opened it and– oh god–

The scent was strong, pungent, making your nose burn. It was a mixture of so many smells, including wood, lemon, ash, and leather? Musk? But you also noticed the hint of bitterness, of sourness. Strong and sharp. It was suffocating, yet– you could feel your belly turning, strongly, pulling you to him. You felt your body growing hot, just like it always did when you caught his scent but this time it was ten times worse.

You held your breath in order to concentrate on your task of walking inside, seeing his back turned to you, behind his desk, and looking out his big windows, going all the way to the very tall ceiling. His hair was tied up in a bun, wearing a black buttoned-up shirt with a loosened burgundy tie around his neck, with the sleeves rolled up just under his elbows and his black pants. He had a cigarette in his hand and you could see the smoke leaving him as it went over his head.

“Lock the door after you walk in.” His voice was demanding, not yet authoritative. You wanted to run away from this confrontation but you knew he would come in contact with you one way or another. 

You slowly stepped inside, feeling like every step was one step closer to your doom, or to something unknown. You closed the door and took a deep breath in as you locked the door just as he ordered. Were you… going to die? Did you read something you shouldn’t have? You don’t remember anything that would have made you think you shouldn’t have, so–

“Come closer Rose.” His voice was strained, angry still. You gulped and followed his instructions, slowly taking steps closer to him until you were ten steps away from his desk. The scent was stronger and you felt like kneeling before him as you felt wetness start to pool inside your underwear. You were embarrassed, but maybe he won't notice if you don’t show it. Fuck his scent for making you this way, you might die right now, and all you can feel is being horny?

“Sir… What do you… need me for?” You asked, slowly and mostly submissive, to show him that whatever he says will go, at least for now. You heard a rumble, and you didn’t know if it was a groan or a growl. He took a puff out of his cigarette before speaking again.

“Do you know why you’re here?” 

“Not really… Did I do something to make you this displeased?” It was a risky question, but someone had to break the ice for it. 

“You did.” You felt your breath being knocked out of your lungs. Fuck, what did you do? What could you have possibly done? Whatever you did was no small thing, remembering how he threw your pen holder across the room. 

“I– I checked everything I did on friday and I didn’t notice anything– Was it something my colleagues had to do that–”

“Did she knot you?”

Your mouth fell open as you looked at his back, your heart stopping completely at the question. How did he–?

“What?”

“I asked you a question, Rose, so you answer it accordingly.” And then your boss slowly started turning around, and you felt your blood leaving your body as his eyes, now all black, not a single speck of brown anywhere looked into your soul. You couldn’t see his irises from how dilated his pupils were. His features were clenched, eyebrows tense, and when he fully turned to you, you saw how his chest was moving quicker than normal because of his breathing. “Did. She. Knot. You.”

Your eyes looked into his again, noticing the anger, the rage, the desperation that lingers there. Your scent probably spiked right now because irritation coursed through you. How dare he? Why? You need confirmation that he has the information of your personal life, because, why the fuck would he need it?

“I’m sorry Sir, she?”

“Nancy Wheeler. 27. Journalist. Presented at the age of 15 as an Alpha, moved to the city of Chicago three years ago to pursue her career. She has two siblings, her father, and mother still alive, no Omega mated to her, so this is your last chance to answer. Did she knot you?” His voice was low, commanding, not yet authoritative in his Alpha tone, but it was coming to it. Your lip twitched at this man's audacity, not understanding the reason for the interrogation.

“With due respect, I don’t think my personal affairs are important at all.” And then Eddie’s hands slammed against the desk and your eyes widened when the Alpha’s teeth were suddenly bared, growling at you, the noise sending a wave of daggers across your entire skin.

“I CAN SMELL HER ON YOU!” His voice was loud enough that you felt like the walls shook from its vibration. Your heart was about to explode as you took a step backwards, your belly turning in fear as well as– arousal? Nerves? You couldn’t pinpoint it, but his scent was becoming stronger and stronger and it was making your mind turn hazy and your belly cramp slightly.

How dare he? How dare he ask something like that? Why does he care or why does he acknowledge it? Is it because Nancy’s Alpha scent was stronger than his? Was his ego crushed? You stepped back to the place you were standing, your face stern as you defied your boss, your senses on alert and sharp as you looked at him, trying not to glare to not create more discourse.

“I repeat, I do not believe my personal business has anything to do with you, sir. I do not meddle in yours, except work-related. All professional business.” Your voice was firm and assertive, yet there was a hint of shakiness behind it. Of course there was, Eddie was still baring his teeth at you, the air around you clenching your lungs, tightly, wanting to rip them apart.

He put out the cigarette on the ashtray, or one would say he smashed it into it from the force he sent his hand down. His nose scrunched up in distaste as he clenched his eyes tightly as if trying to contain himself from something. You were overwhelmed with all the Alpha pheromones that were around you, and you couldn’t understand the reason behind the question. You opened your mouth to speak again but he interrupted you with a rough tone.

“Why the fuck did you let another alpha touch you?” He asked but you didn’t know if he was asking it to you or if he was talking to himself because he was still not looking at you. He was clenching his eyes as his hands gripped the edge of the desk. You noticed the veins popping on his forearms, underneath the ink, you could still see the bumps thanks to the reflection of the soft lamps around you. 

“Sir–”

“And you didn’t even take her scent off of you. You didn’t wash her fucking scent off your skin.” His eyes looked into yours again, his top lip twitching into showing off his teeth again but he was containing himself so it seemed. You gulped and looked down at your feet, trying to control your breathing as you felt yourself becoming smaller each second he stared at you.

“I– I tried. I thought I managed but– I’m sorry if it is unprofessional–” and you heard him let out a sarcastic chuckle, making you look back up at him.

“Unprofessional? Yes. You can call it that… so I’ll take that stench off of you.” Your eyebrows knitted together in the center of your forehead, not understanding the meaning of his words.

“You’ll– I don’t understand?” And the room became silent. You made a displeased sound when you felt some slick soaking your panties and it started being a little uncomfortable. You wanted to bolt out of here, you wanted to go away but you felt– you felt like you were being preyed on. You felt like fucking prey.

“I will take that putrid smell away. I will replace it with my scent.”

And you froze. You felt as if all the blood had drained from your body in just one instant. You couldn’t feel the tip of your fingers as you watched him as he rounded the desk, steps slowly taken, the sound muffled by the single large carpet against the wooden floor. You were breathing as best as you could as your mind processed his words. 

His scent? Why? You two– 

“We– Why?” 

“Because you are mine.” And that made your blood come back to your veins, but it was burning now. His? You’re his? You saw how his eyebrow twitched at the change of attitude inside of you once again.

“Yours? I’m not yours, sir. I am free to do as I please… just like you are.” You saw his jaw clenching at your defiance as he stood in front of you, two steps away, towering over you. He smelled so good, but so strong, so dangerously strong. He squinted his eyes slightly at you as he scanned your body, and then back at your face.

“Time to change that. Strip.” You couldn’t process his words correctly in your brain. What did he say? Why–

“What–?” His eyes were staring into your soul as his hands clenched at his sides.

“Strip.” And you didn’t want to comply, you wanted answers first, or at least for him to realize how hypocritical he was being. Your body trembled with the need of submission but you prevailed, not wanting to fall for it.

“I don’t see the need to.” And that’s when you heard it, the growl, and his teeth were bared once more. 

“I said, strip, Omega.” His voice, now authoritative in his Alpha command. You felt yourself become limp, your mind shutting off slightly from rationality and control. You could only tear up as your hands went towards the buttons of your blouse against your will. You wanted answers, you needed them, not do this. 

His eyes watched you as you slowly undressed, and every try of you gaining control of your hands once again was useless. If it were another Alpha, you could have probably fought the command, but Eddie was your kryptonite. Now you are sure he is your scent mate, though you are not his. This is enough proof. Not being able to stop at all, even if there might be danger, that’s when your omega is in complete submission to THEIR alpha.

Your hands removed your blouse first, then you unzipped, and dropped your tube skirt, then got out of your shoes. You were not looking at him as you felt your eyes burning, your hands moving towards your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall down. The last piece of clothing were your black lace panties. 

You didn’t realize you were trembling as your hand got under the elastic of your underwear, but a hand stopped you. A ringed, tattooed hand gently grasped yours and you felt yourself breathing again, for some reason feeling safe. You shortly realized it was him releasing calming pheromones towards you. His feelings were being a whiplash for you, not understanding the brutal change, not understanding if he wanted to intimidate you or rather calm you.

“You– You have your fun with the other omegas… why can’t I have my own?” Your voice came out small, but then you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were black, pitch black. His nose was flaring as he looked at you and his mouth was slightly open, and you took notice of his fangs being enlarged somewhat. You frowned at the display, at how– desperate he looked.

“I will ask… one more time…” His voice low, strained, and there was a hint of begging behind it. “Did she knot you?”

And your face twisted, your scent soured making his nose scrunch up, his eyebrow twitch as he scanned your features. 

“Did you knot them? Sunflower? Carnation? All?” You hissed through your teeth, your displeasure known for once and for all, and then, the room felt as if it spun around you, oxygen was exchanged for his smell.

A loud snarl was heard from him, vibrating within himself and you swore you could feel it inside you as well from how intense it was. How alarming. How threatening. How empowering. How… possessive. It made you shiver, whimper, and look at him with eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, excitement, arousal, and nervousness– just a mix of many emotions.

And you knew he could smell you. You knew he could smell the slick, your juices just making a mess out of your thin thong, coming out from the sides and already dampening your inner thighs. You couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t help how your limbs were trembling for his touch, and you didn’t have to wait long for it, just not how you expected.

Tattooed hands went towards the loosened tie around his neck and undid it in one single tug. Your heart skipped a beat as he put the tie in his mouth, biting onto it, while he grabbed your wrists, making you gasp at the sudden touch, but then– fear mixed with arousal. He held your wrists together in front of you with just one hand, while he used the other to wrap the tie around them, expertly, and then tying them up together. 

It was tight, a small whimper getting stuck in your throat.

His right hand flew to the back of your head, clenching your hair in a warning and threatening grip, a hiss falling from your lips as he pulled your face closer to his. His hot breath falling on your lips like molten lava, his eyes long gone from rationality, and you know, you just know, you cannot defy him. Not now.

“On your knees.” He didn’t use his Alpha tone. He didn’t have to. Despite your fear, the twist in your gut, your dignity yelling at you at the back of your head to not do this, to not become one of his many toys just because his alpha pride was hurt, you still got on your knees. It was slow, and your eyes never left his as you sunk lower.

His hand left your head and went to undo his pants, and the zipper noise made your eyes move to the bulge that was in front of you. You couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to nuzzle your face against it, but you weren’t going to indulge in that feeling. You weren’t going to become putty, even if your omega was jumping happily, making you want to purr in delight and chirp because your scent mate was finally looking your way.

His tattooed hands, scarred even, pulled the zipper down and then his pants went downwards with a push. Your eyes were fixated on the wet stain that was over the dark blue hue of the fabric of his boxers. Your tongue tingled with the need of darting it out to lick on it, needing to taste it, to finally have his flavor in your mouth.

He could probably see it, how your eyes teared up, or clouded, pupils starting to dilate slowly, and how your own wetness was gushing out even more. You wanted to rip the tie off with your teeth, let your hands free to touch him, but– No. You cannot do this. It’s not fair. But it is what you have wanted all along, isn’t it? You closed your eyes to try to keep your brain to yourself, trying to control your body, at least regain a bit of it.

“Mr. Munson– I will not be one more for the collection.” You didn’t expect a low chuckle to escape him, but you could hear the angered growl behind it, expressing how disgusting that comment of yours was. Your eyes opened, looking up at him, only to see enraged eyes and bared teeth directed your way, which only made you tremble in fear, in anticipation, and in eagerness.

“You have no idea what the fuck you are talking about, My Rose.” His. Why is there so much anger coming from the Alpha that is now towering you? You cannot comprehend it. You cannot really understand it. His hands moved, you noticed, and then when your eyes went back to your front, your breath caught in your throat.

His cock sprung out and hit his pelvis as he pulled his boxers down enough to release it. It was thick. The tip was bright red, and it looked like it hurt. You couldn’t help yourself when your mouth started watering, seeing the drop of precum leaking out of the tip. You felt your saliva pooling on your tongue, your eyes fixated on it, and your body was suddenly set ablaze as your wrists tried pulling against the tie with no chance of success of untying yourself.

“Taste it.” Eddie’s voice was low, and commanding, and you didn’t really know if he was using his Alpha tone or not, but your body reacted instantly. Your tongue darted out, and the tip of it scooped up that drop of precum escaping him. You tasted it, mouth closed and if your mind was hazy before, it was now gone. Out of the window who you were before tasting him. Dead was the woman who could probably live without the need to know this taste. 

Your eyes were closed as you moaned at how delicious he was. Everything made sense, puzzles were put together, that little earring you thought you lost was found again, you discovered the secret ingredient to a recipe you never got right. And then–

Your eyes opened, revealing that tears had filled them, slick dripping furiously down your inner thighs, body trembling, lip wobbling as you stared up at him. The Alpha that made you simply lose yourself.

“Please… Please…” You begged. You didn’t even need to probably, but you still begged. His hand went towards your head again, his fingertips softly digging into your scalp. His jaw was clenched, strained.

“Open, Omega.” Electricity rushed through your body at the command, at his voice calling you omega. He called you it. And how can you ever defy him? Not now. Not ever. Not after this.

Your eyes looked at the red tip in front of you, and you saw how his dick twitched, bobbing a little, as if anticipating your touch, your warmth. His hand was still on the back of your head, but was not pushing you. Not that it needed to. 

Your mouth opened, tongue lolling out just slightly as you leaned forward. The tip touched your tongue first and then you kept going, finally taking him inside your mouth. A pleased growl vibrated through the room, and Eddie could only throw his head back in delight as your warmth finally started to engulf him.

Moaning is the only thing that could be heard from you the more you took him inside. Once you knew you couldn’t go further without choking, you moved your hands to help yourself only to whine at feeling them tied. You could only use your mouth on him, but it was no time to complain. There wasn’t any.

His grip tightened as you started bobbing your head, coating his dick in saliva, all over, slobbering it so much that it started running down the side of your mouth. You didn’t know it, but the Alpha before you was losing his mind, fighting against the animal that was inside of him.

Your moans helped with the vibrations around him, and you felt your entire body just burning inside out. You pulled away to be able to dip the tip of your tongue onto the slit of the head of his cock. He groaned loudly as he looked down at you and then you felt him guide you, which you obliged. 

His cock went inside your mouth again, and you started moving faster, but not by choice. If it were your call, you would take your time to taste him properly, try to trace every ridge of his veins so that it burns into your memory because, you don’t know if you will ever have this opportunity again. 

Even if your mind was knocked out of the park, you still remember how he has never called on you for months. How he slept with others and not you. How when the slight bit of his ego got damaged, he commanded you to be on your knees for him. So yes, you do not know if this will ever happen again.

So you’ll take this chance.

His hand guided you to move faster on him, your tongue slurping against the shaft, allowing him to slide in easily over and over into your mouth. Your pussy clenched with need around absolutely nothing. The scent of him filling you, sweaty, and with the distinctive little hints of cackling wood in the fire. 

Your belly turned at hearing his grunts, willing your eyes to open and look up at him, still moving your head, swallowing him in. He was looking down at you with his eyebrows meeting in the middle, groaning, growling, grunting under his breath. He looked in pain, or was it desperation? You couldn’t figure it out, but it can wait, right now you just want to keep tasting him.

You closed your eyes again, and his hips started moving against your movements, making him go a little deeper, beginning to touch the back of your throat. You started feeling the beginnings of your gags, but you focused on breathing through your nose. His grip tightened at the back of your head and then out of nowhere, he pushed you into his thrust. You yelped, or rather choked a yelp in surprise, feeling the tip of his cock pushing further into your throat. 

Your eyes started burning, raising your hands to grab onto his right knee, a silent plea to pull away before you start gagging. But at the same time you didn’t want him away, because your nose was now into his pubic hair, his scent stronger than ever and the omega inside of you was elated. 

“Taking me so good in that little mouth of yours. Such a good omega for me.” His voice was strained but you could only purr at his praise, but that action made you lose concentration and you gagged on him, coughing, and his grip loosened for you to pull away. You gasped for air as he got out of your mouth with a pop. You breathed heavily as you felt tears running down your cheeks, looking up at him with a lost look in your eyes.

“Did you say that to them as well?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. Even in your delight, it seems the rejection you suffered these past months was not easy to forget. Not even if you were in the one thing you have wanted to experience all this time. 

He was looking down at you in disbelief. He thought he was clear enough, but he was never good with words, and his actions could be better. He snarled down at you, his fangs showing in displeasure, but you didn’t back down and you hissed at him. Your omega wanted answers, defying the Alpha towering over you, and Eddie was taken aback by it. 

You felt possessive, needing to know if he had knotted your coworkers, if he had called them omegas, if he had called them sweet yet nasty names. You felt this was your Alpha, and you were angry, saddened, disappointed. He wasn’t yours, but you certainly felt he was, and this is your excuse for the way you’re reacting.

“Dense as fuck. Cute, but aren’t you a dumb little thing?” You were stunned at his insult but you winced when he dug his fingertips into your scalp, pulling you up on your feet once more, and then he continued talking “-- let me do to you things I didn’t do with the rest.”

His lips were on yours in a frenzy, making you gasp in surprise, not expecting him to kiss you at all. He didn’t seem like the man to be keen on kissing, because most of the time people thought of it as intimate, or caring. Maybe he was not one of those people and you were completely wrong about him, because the fact is– You don’t know him at all.

But how could you complain when he didn’t care that you just had him in your mouth? His lips were hungrily devouring yours, tasting himself, and you. He groaned into the kiss, his chest rumbling in delight, resembling a purr that only made you whimper in need, your hands reaching up to grab onto his shirt. Your wrists started to hurt as you kept tugging at them to be able to touch, to feel more, but it seemed that he didn’t intend to take the tie off.

His teeth bit onto your bottom lip, and you winced as he tugged on it before pulling away. Your eyes fixated on him as he licked his teeth with his tongue and you could see the red tint on them. You were bleeding and he was moaning at the taste of it, which only made the slick overflow and run down your legs more than before.

You whined in need as you felt a cramp punching you in your belly. The need of his knot resembled that of a heat, but you knew you were not due yet. The last one you had, you asked for a week off, and it was a month ago. You had to wait for another month for your next heat, so you didn’t understand why you were cramping.

Was it because of him? Was it just his mere scent and touch enough to induce you into a placebo of a heat? Into the feel of it? He was clearly your scent mate, there was no question now. There were no doubts. To make you feel like a bitch in heat at any time of the month, that is only something scent mates are able to do.

His eyes found yours as you licked your bottom lip, tasting the iron of your own blood. It wasn’t a deep or long cut, but it was still a small one. His chest rumbled as he took a sharp intake of breath in, smelling you, your arousal, your slick. His eyes closed for a second as you stared at his features, wanting to grab onto his face and kiss him again, but– you were not able to.

“I need to fucking taste you.” You gasped at his words and then you were guided towards his desk. You saw him just throw everything on the floor, including important paperwork. You knew it was important because it was the same thing you have been working on the last week. Once the desk was cleared and he turned to face you again, you opened your mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by his hand gripping your bicep, tightly and pushing you against the desk, your hip hitting the edge of it.

You whimpered in pain, knowing very well that it would leave a bruise on your skin. Your breath got caught in your throat when his hands pressed on your waist and lifted you off the ground in order to place you on the desk. His breaths were heavy, looking at you with intensity and purpose. A shiver ran down your spine when his digits dug into the skin of your waist, fingernails seemingly sharper as it scratched your flesh.

A yelp escaped your lips as his hands pushed on your shoulders, making you fall back, laying down on the desk and quickly, his hands moved to your knees in order to spread your legs for him. You whimpered as you could tell there was a string of your slick connecting both your inner thighs, the cold air making it obvious. Tears of embarrassment filled your eyes as you turned your head to the side, hiding your face behind your tied hands.

“Don’t you dare fucking hide your face from me.” You didn’t listen, not caring for the warning growl he directed your way. Suddenly your hands were engulfed by a singular larger one and pushed upwards, over your head, your knuckles slamming against the hardwood of the desk. Your breathing hitched as your head looked back at him, a piercing and threatening gaze as he bared his teeth for your submission. 

His eyes went towards your breasts, and without a second to waste, he dove downwards, taking your right nipple into his mouth. Your body jerked at the touch, and you bit your bottom lip to hold back a moan, only to whimper in pain as you remembered you had a cut. You realized he did it on purpose so you wouldn’t be able to bite onto anything to hold back your noises. 

His tongue swirled on your perked nipple, making your stomach jump at the attention, his scent spiking up with a hint of sweetness, delight. An appreciative growl, a low purr vibrated in his throat at your taste, at your reaction to him. His free hand went to rub your left nipple, his calloused fingertips rough to the touch, and then he nipped on your right one, making you gasp as your back arched, his hand holding your wrists tightening.

He pinched and bit and sucked on your nipples like a man starved, like this was the one thing he had been dreaming about for an eternity. Your eyes widened in the haze of your lust as you saw him rubbing his neck against your breasts, passing his scent gland all over. He was marking you, putting a claim on you that you didn’t think he deserved even if you wanted it and wanted to chirp in contentment.

“Sir–”

“Alpha.” He demanded and your eyes clashed with his again. He was right on your face, eyes dark as he asked you to call him the one thing you have been wanting to call him the moment you smelled him six months ago. Why now? Should you comply? Should you call him what he wants, needs?

“A–A–” You tried, but you knew that the moment you called him that way, you were going to enter in a mild state of a hivemind. Your rationality will fade slowly, only caring for the knot of the Alpha that was towering over you right now. His knot, his scent, his bite. You felt his hand leave your wrists but before you could lower them, his hand grabbed your chin roughly, making you pucker your lips as you felt the rumble in his chest.

“I’m your Alpha, Omega, and you will call me as such.” He spat through his teeth and you could only whine, which got cut short when a moan replaced it. His hips pressed against yours and you could feel his cock pressing against your clothed, wet and throbbing cunt. You felt yourself clench at nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were fucking desperate. 

“Y–You… are not mine… and I’m not yours.” Your voice was muffled by your puckered lips and he only hissed at you in complete displeasure, in disgust towards your words.

“We’ll change that tonight. Once and for all.” He removed his hand from your breast and held onto the elastic of your thong. You gasped in pain as he pulled, the lace digging into your skin the more he stretched it until you heard a rip. You hissed at the burn the pull left on your hip, and then his hand left your face, letting you move your jaw freely once more. 

Your mind raced at his words, not knowing what he meant, looking at the ceiling as if it would whisper the answer to you, whisper the meaning of this whole act towards you, but your body jerked out of its trance when you felt his tongue running from the middle of your chest and downwards, tasting your sweat. 

Your back arched as you held a moan in, trying not to bite onto your bottom lip when he pressed the tip of his tongue onto your belly. He was closer to where you had been wanting him the most for so long. You should stop this, but can you? Do you even have the willpower to do that? The answer was simple when you felt like puking at the idea of stopping him at all.

You felt his breath hit your pussy, your ripped thong still dangling on your right inner thigh. You shivered since the air made the wetness become cold, and you put your hands on your chest, not knowing where to place them. You heard him inhale deeply, a low rumble being heard from him.

“You smell so delicious… so fucking good My Rose.” You whined at the name, wanting to tell him to call you Omega, just like he demanded you to call him Alpha. You needed to hear it again, for your own sanity before you became someone that does not know the word ‘dignity’.

“I–” You couldn’t even start talking that his hot tongue licked your slick off your inner right thigh first, and he moaned in pleasure. Your eyes widened at the feeling of it, but mostly at the sound that came out of him, and it prompted your pussy to clench and more slick to come out on a string and down towards the table below you, at the edge of it.

He licked your left inner thigh now, slurped on it and then sucked on your skin, taking your cold juices into his mouth. Your breath was stuttering at the feeling as your pussy clenched and clenched, and you wanted to yell at him, to please touch you, lick you, eat you, just anything–

And your eyes widened when he flattened his tongue all over your slit to take a long lick from it. It felt divine, you were finally in bliss as your body felt like it was in flames. It felt as if someone threw a bucket of cold water on you, but it was a temporary relief. Unbeknownst to you, your boss was trembling at the taste of you as his dick twitched in absolute need.

The resemblance of a purr could be heard in the room, not coming from you, but from him. His hands dug into your inner thighs, fingertips marking you as he stared at your pussy, his breathing becoming slightly erratic the more he looked at it. And then, he didn’t hold back.

He went in, starved, desperate, his lips circling around your aching clit and sucking on it as he kept your legs spread for him. You gasped at the feeling and finally let a moan escape your lips, but Eddie was not even listening. You could smell his scent becoming stronger than before, and you couldn’t help but purr at the notice of high arousal, of pleasure, and it was all because of one lick on your pussy.

His tongue started lapping in between your folds, running all over and slurping all the slick that just kept coming out of you. He was moaning into you as you arched your back at every flick to your clit. He was making the most obscene sounds against you and you were loving it. You felt him pull away from you, a growl of pleasure escaping him and you wanted to look down but you couldn’t use your elbows to push yourself up to do so.

“You taste so good. So fucking good. I’m addicted, I knew I would be, but jesus fuck–” His tongue went back on you, a moan leaving you as he licked your clit and sucked on it to create that amazing friction you ached for. What does he mean? What does he mean by ‘he knew’? Did he want to do this to you before? 

“Why– Why didn’t you ever–” You gasped when you felt his tongue sliding inside of you, your back arching towards the ceiling and the small of your back aching at the hardness of the desk below you. Your body was lit on absolute fire, burning you from inside out, not caring if you died in the process of it. It was almost unbearable.

He moaned loudly into you, his dick leaking precum each second that passed, twitching in need at the feel he has around his tongue. He wants to feel the fluttering of your walls that are on his tongue, around his cock. His nose rubbed against your clit as he shook his head a bit at you. He pulled away to run a finger over your slit, covering it in your juices.

“Look at it… So pretty for me. So ready to receive her Alpha.” Your pussy clenched on nothing at his praise, a purr vibrating in your throat as your hips moved against him, making the Alpha smirk in victory. “You want that, My rose? Want me to be your Alpha?”

You didn’t know if he was messing with you or not. How many times did he use this as his dirty talk when fucking Steve? Carol? Heather? How many times did he say these things to them? How many times have they fallen for this trick? 

“Don’t– Don’t play with me.” A warning snarl was sent your way and your back arched as he roughly introduced his middle finger inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I’m going to make you beg for my knot. I’m going to hear you screaming for me. I’ll make sure of this.” His finger twirled upwards as he started thrusting in and out of you in short yet striking movements. Your soft spot was rubbed on, over and over again, and the moans were coming out of your mouth without any self control.

Your mind started becoming fuzzy the more pleasure you felt, the more slick that came out of you, and the more he moaned against you at each flick of his tongue on your clit. You didn’t want to comply with his orders, but you couldn’t fight your omegan instinct much longer. 

“Oh– fuck!” You yelled out as you felt his ring finger join his middle one, his tempo increasing as he sucked on your clit, and the gushing sounds of your juices could be heard around the room, mixing with your moans, with his groans, and the smell of pure arousal was intoxicating and just making the both of you feel as if you were high.

The coil in your belly started turning, wildly, and you knew you were going to have a strong one. The one person you consider ‘Your Alpha’ was touching you the way you’ve always wanted, and by him and him only. How could you not purr? Chirp? Moan loudly?

Your hands went down to grab onto his hair, who had the bun already a bit messy from his movements, and even with your wrists tied, you managed to cling to him. He moaned into your pussy and your walls started clenching all around his fingers and that’s when you felt him add his index finger, your eyes widening at the stretch, but you felt a certain relief, like a wave of cold air washing over you.

“You need to be ready for my knot. C’mon Omega, cum around your Alpha’s fingers.” You moaned when he called himself your Alpha. As if it were true. As if he truly was just yours and for a moment you believed him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the loud squelching of juices even more depraved than before.

“Ed–Ed–” You stuttered out in between moans only to receive a growl in response and then you yelped as pain and pleasure mixed as he bit your clit, and even if it was gentle, it was still a sensible area. It was a warning, a threat to comply with his previous order.

“Say it.” And he twisted his fingers upwards as he made short thrusts yet quick and you felt your belly about to explode, your fingers digging into his hair as you pushed his head into you. Your knees were now bent, and you saw them tremble on the sides of his head. Your body started to shake as your mouth fell open and your eyes started going to the back of your head.

“A–Alpha!” Your orgasm crashed on you like a train, shaking you all over, short circuiting your brain and leaving you gasping for air as stars filled your vision. Eddie only cursed under his breath as his mouth latched onto your clit to help you ride your orgasm out, your pussy clenching around his fingers like a vice, and your slick was just running down, dripping from you.

He moaned at the taste of your orgasm, different to your normal slick. It was sweeter, tastier, and more intoxicating. Your grip loosened once you felt yourself stop trembling wildly, your walls unclenching from around his fingers as you slowly came down from your climax. Your breathing was heavy, feeling drained from how hard your orgasm was just now. You called him Alpha. You gave in. 

Your eyes were closed as you felt him leave your clit, and slowly pulled his fingers out from you, making an involuntary whine escape your throat at the loss of him. You felt defeated. You gave him what you didn’t want to give to someone who only sees you as one more notch in his belt. Another Omega he knotted. 

Your nose scrunched up as the air around you smelled way too intense, so much that you felt it prickle your nose. You couldn’t quite identify what it could be, but you felt like the appropriate word would be, desperation. Your eyes opened and you saw Eddie looking down at you, your slick all over his mouth, his fangs enlarged, his pupils blown out, and–

Your eyes widened as realization hit you. You were in the presence of an Alpha that had a triggered semi-rut. Your eyes went down to his still exposed pelvis, and his dick was larger, and just purely red and pulsing with need. Precum just oozed out from the tip and dripped down the shaft, and it was all for you.

And your mind was gone.

“A– Alpha…” You whimpered as your hivemind took over. Your irises were gone from how wide your pupils were, and your slick was overflowing the edge of the desk and falling onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. You raised your knees towards your chest, letting you show off your pussy to him, presenting yourself in a semi mating press. 

He licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest moving up and down as he hissed through his teeth. Your Alpha, for some reason, you felt like he was fighting against something. It felt as if he was trying to fight off the rut. But you didn’t want him to. Maybe he knots you, and breeds you, hopefully. You want a pup with him, a pup from your scent mate, yes.

“Please, Alpha, my Alpha…” You begged and that was enough for Eddie to come out of his trance, his hands moving to the back of your knees for support as he moved his hips forward, and his cock ran over your slicked folds, making you moan desperately as you salivated in your mouth. “More, more, more–”

“Yes my Omega. My beautiful Omega… My Rose, your Alpha will give you more. Always.” His tip caught on your entrance and you gasped and you showed your Alpha your wrists, begging for him to take them off so your hands could touch him properly.

“I need to touch you, please, I’ll be good, I promise!” He immediately worked on the tie, yanking it off, probably ripping it apart in the process, and your hands shot up, trying to unbutton his shirt, whining with need to see, touch, feel his skin. His hands grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and he pulled, the buttons snapping and the shirt was ripped open, a breath of relief leaving his lips.

Your eyes scanned the tattooed chest, just a few tattoos here and there, scars that littered all over his stomach as well. You could hear your heartbeat into your ears, your body setting on fire at the sight of the layer of sweat covering his skin. Your hands, now with painful markings around their wrists but you could care less about that now, went forward to touch his stomach.

Fingernails scratched onto the flesh as another thrust of his hips made the tip enter you for just a second, a desperate whimper leaving your lips as you looked up at him with a pleading look. Why isn’t your Alpha taking you? Does he not want you? Are you not as pretty as the others? Your belly cramped, making you clench your eyes as pain shot towards your entire body.

“She didn’t knot you, didn’t she?” Your eyes shot open at the question and you looked at the man towering over you as his grip tightened underneath your knees. You wanted to tell him the truth, comply, but you were also feeling betrayed, used, and played with.

“D-Did you knot them?” Your voice was small and shaky, knowing you weren’t in the position to question the Alpha. You were in a vulnerable state, completely open for the kill. 

And with a loud growl, the biggest one you heard him give yet, he seethed himself inside of you in one powerful thrust.

You threw your head back as you shrieked at the sudden stretch, at the sudden pressure and the pain. It wasn’t great, but it was still painful, yet, your cramps stopped, just a little bit. They stopped stinging like knives, leaving a pain that can only be calmed by a knot. His knot. Tears ran down your cheeks as you gasped for air, your mouth open while you stared at the ceiling, and he bottomed inside of you, inch by inch.

He was big, the biggest you’ve ever had and it felt good, yet painful even with the foreplay. You pissed him off with your response, and you knew it because you could still hear him growling inside of his chest, groaning at the feel of you around him. 

His pelvis clashed against yours and you guided one of your hands towards your belly and you could swear you could feel him when you pressed. He was too deep inside of you and– and– you needed him to move. He needs to move. Your cramps are coming back as well as the cloudiness of your mind.

“P-Please Alpha, move–”

“I won’t move until you tell me.” His voice came out through his teeth as he looked down at you. More tears ran down your eyes as you tried to move your hips against him and he snarled at you in warning. “Tell me!”

“She didn’t! I couldn’t! The only– The only knot I want is–” And a sob ripped out of you as you looked at the man above you. It wasn’t fair, to be in this state and having no control, and knowing that after this, it would be forgotten, a fling of the moment because his ego got smashed.

“Is mine. The only knot you want is mine… And it’s the only one you’ll ever get from now on.” And his hips reeled back, only to slam themselves against you once again, making you choke up on a moan, your breath being knocked out of you instantly, the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part inside of you.

He felt divine, the burning of the first thrust slowly dissipating the more he moved his hips, going in and out of you as you adjusted to his size. The cramps were obscured by the waves of pleasure that your body started to feel, your limbs becoming limp for him to maneuver however he liked.

His fingertips were bruising your skin and his eyes were fixed where the two of you were connecting over and over again, and he grunted in pleasure at the sight, seeing himself disappear inside you, filling you up and feeling your cunt squeezing him, friction burning him from head to toes.

“Ah–” You gasped into your moan as he straightened up to pick up the pace, pulling his cock all the way out, leaving the tip inside, only to then go back in at a steady pace. Your hands flew to the edges on each side of the desk, trying to ground yourself as your mind reeled, your Omegan pheromones only making the Alpha in the room even more feral.

“So good, fuck, you feel so good baby. So, so, so fucking good.” He hissed out, his eyebrows meeting in the middle, a strained look on his face as his jaw clenched, still looking down at his cock going into your pussy, and he could see how your slick overflowed all around him.

You chirped at the praise as you bounced on the desk at each hit of his hips against yours, moans coming out of both your mouths and your rationality shut off once more as another cramp suddenly hit your belly. You weren’t being satisfied. Your needs were not being met and you were becoming restless.

“M-More…” You whimpered and he only tsked as he kept the same pace, not relenting to your begging.

“More what?” He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was playing with you. Tears of exasperation filled your eyes as you moved your hips in retaliation, making him hiss at you from the sudden action.

“More please? Please Alpha… I need– Faster, rougher– It hurts, it hurts–” And you were referring to that in so many ways. How your cramps hurt right now because your body needs and requires his knot, or how your whole soul hurt these past months knowing he never chose you for this before. He chose others, right in your face.

“Anything for my dumb little omega.” You didn’t know why he was insulting you, but you had no time to think. Your eyes widened as you gasped, followed by pleased mewls and loud moans as his hips started snapping against yours, the slapping on skin bouncing on every wall and bookcase, echoing thanks to the tall ceiling above you.

You now realize why he made everyone leave the entire floor.

His pace was rough, deep and fast, fucking into you desperately and your fingernails dug into the wood of the edge’s of the desk as you felt your insides being basically rearranged by him. Your cramps were still there but getting his cock inside of you helped somewhat, the pleasure overpowering it at times. You were loud, crying your moans out, your breaths, your huffs, and the yelling of his name.

His eyes were fixated now on your body, how it moved up and down thanks to his movements, your tear stained face, your open mouth that only let out filthy sounds, mumbling his name on the low in the haze of it all. You felt yourself start to flutter around his dick, the abuse against your g-spot making it an easy climax from the overstimulation. New tears prickled your eyes as your body jerked at every thrust, your belly coiling up, causing another cramp to happen. You whined loudly as your hips started meeting with his thrusts, desperately.

“Please, please, Eddie, my Alpha, more–” You were begging, pleading, imploring him to help you, because you were feeling good, but you weren’t at the same time because you needed more, your body still unsatisfied. You knew what it wanted, and it wasn’t just his knot. You wanted his bite.

“Tell me what you want.” You mewled as his thrusts turned deep, his hips coming to a slower pace and he circled them against you. You didn’t want to tell him, it is too embarrassing, knowing he is only doing this just for lust, and that he has done it with the rest, many times. Suddenly, a cry tore out from your mouth and you looked at Eddie with his teeth biting into your right calf. Your body jerked at the sudden bite, and your hands flew in reflex to try to grab him, but you weren’t strong enough to push yourself up and towards him.

“It hurts– Stop–” He growled as he pulled away from your skin, blood at the corner of his mouth, teeth glistening with a crimson hue. You looked at the bite, at his mark in your flesh and you chirped at the sight, wanting the same mark around your mating gland. It looked so pretty, so perfect, and it felt like you were owned. He hissed at you and his hips came to a halt, bottoming out inside of you. 

“Tell me what you want. I won’t continue until you tell me.” His jaw was clenched, the vein on his neck popping out from how much he was holding himself back from continuing your very destruction. You whined once more as you felt the burning of his bite on your calf, a drop of blood oozing out.

“I– I can’t– Not when you knotted… the others– embarrassing, Alpha, it’s embarrassing–” You were sobbing now, the pain from the past six months rushing back to you in a wave, clashing against the happiness you feel now, making you a bit dizzy from the mix of emotions. 

You heard him sigh and you dared to look at him through your tears, and he was looking down at you with a pained look. Why is he looking at you like that? Maybe it’s pity? Or maybe he feels sorry for how dumb you are? How naive? Or maybe–

“Oh my Omega… I have never knotted any of them.”

Your eyes fully opened at that, your heart thrumming in your chest as your body shook with excitement against your own will. What did he say? You saw his tongue darting out, his hand caressing your calf gently and pushing it towards his mouth so he can lick the wound clean. He side eyed you as he did this action, making your pussy clench around him, making the both of you hiss, remembering the position you are in.

“But– But I heard–”

“And I never complied.” He took his hands off your calf and the back of your left knee to lean forward. Your breathing was erratic, your hands immediately flying to hold onto his shoulders to pull him closer. His hands caged you in, one on each side of your head as he looked down at you. “-- I couldn’t comply.”

You blinked with confusion and doubt in your eyes. You wanted to believe him, you really wanted to, but– 

“Why?” Was the question flying out of your mouth and he leaned down towards you, his lips finding purchase on yours and you could only purr out of instinct, your heart exploding with happiness and joy inside your chest, trying to take the spotlight off of the thunder raging in your head.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your legs around his waist, pushing him into you. You both groaned at the action, making him pull away from the soft peck, his pupils back to being completely dilated and you moaned as his cock twitched inside of you. A growl escaped him as he quickly wrapped his arms around your frame and lifted you off the desk, a gasp leaving your lips and your grip tightened all around him.

You knew his instincts kicked in again, his mind clouded once more, but the knowledge that he never knotted the others was starting to settle in your head, and it was slowly making you go back to that state of mind where the only thing that mattered was being bred and knotted by the Alpha that was holding you tightly in his arms.

You felt yourself being lowered and the carpet hit your back, your eyes finding the ceiling once again. His hands grabbed onto your knees and he pulled them away from himself, making you untangle your legs from his waist. He bared his teeth at you as you didn’t let go of his shoulders, and you quickly complied, submitting yourself to him.

“Good Omega. My Omega.” He suddenly pulled out from you as he kneeled back and you whined with a sob, lifting yourself with help of your elbows to look at him.

“NO! Alpha, please, I need your knot, please– Why are you doing this? I–” His hand pressed against your chest and pushed you back down, snarling at you to let him work. You gasped when he grabbed onto your knees, keeping them apart, but then roughly pushing them up towards your chest, and you felt your hips rising from the ground, bending your body slightly.

His knees were now on each side of your hips as he leaned forward, towering over your frame, his cock twitching and your eyes could see the base of his cock pulsating, ready for his knot to pop. You purred and salivated at it, wanting it, desiring it, needing it and then you realized–

You were put in a mating press.

His cock went in with one harsh thrust, and you swear you could feel him at the back of your throat as you threw your head back. Your hands grabbed onto the carpet below you for some grounding, but you only let yourself smile in pleasure, in bliss, as you felt him burn inside of you. 

His knuckles were white from how hard his grip was on your knees to keep you in that position. A position that helps with fecundation. He groaned loudly when you clenched around him, your climax coming back to you as if it had never left moments ago. Your belly ached, cramped, turned, but most of all, it burned. It was burning you with the need of release, the need to be filled, the need of him.

His thrusts started quick and powerful, knocking the breath out of you at each jerk, the carpet burning your back as you rubbed it back and forth. You couldn’t care less. Not the burn of the back or the pain of your wrists or the bite on your calf. He could hurt you, bend you, break you, and you would be fine with all of that. At least, you mean something to him that way. Something different than the rest.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re fucking mine.” He growled, over and over again while he fucked into you like a madman, like an animal. He was sweating, your eyes following every drop, his hair clinging to the sides of his face, and he was the most beautiful person in this whole wide world. He is calling you his, maybe thanks to his small triggered rut, but you had no time to feel the pain of that realization yet.

“Alpha, it feels so good. Fill me up, please, pretty please–” You didn’t recognize your voice. Needy, dripping with lust and pleasure, and you don’t remember a single time you talked like this. Not even when you shared your heats with your ex. You never begged like this. This is what a scent mate does to someone. It turns you fucking stupid.

The slapping of skin was filthy, wet sounds following them because your slick was being produced at each thrust of his. It was probably a mess, and you know it because you turned your head to see the edge of the desk you laid on moments ago, and the side had your slick dripping down in a single streak towards the floor, and a small pool of it formed at the foot of the desk. 

His thighs were drenched in you, and you moaned loudly at the thought, your eyes returning to meet his. He moaned your name under his breath and you trembled at the sound of it. He called you by your name, not rose, not omega. Your name. It made your belly come closer and closer to the edge, pussy fluttering and clenching all around him as he continued his powerful thrusts.

Your vision became blurry as tears mixed with how cockdrunk you became, but you could see a thin silver necklace dangling from his neck, back and forth. Your nails dug into the carpet underneath you as your breath picked up a pace, feeling the coil in your stomach and belly turn wildly, your orgasm threatening you to explode at any second. 

“Alpha– Alpha– I’m–” And he grunted as your eyes widened with a surprised gasp when you felt the beginning of his knot start to hit your entrance. You could feel it popping in and then back out, his teeth bared and he finally looked at you, a yellow glint flashing in his eyes as he stared down at you.

“I’m going to knot you. I’m going to knot you and breed you, over and over and over again… And I’m going to mate you.” You didn’t know if you were making it up, you didn’t know anymore. It sounded way too good to be true– “Oh, you don’t believe me?” 

Your eyes widened, shock washing over you as you tried to talk, only for loud cries to escape your lips when his thrusts became hard, rough, and the knot started swelling more and more, making it a little painful when it started popping in and out of you. Your mind was a haze, the only need being his knot. His knot. His knot.

“Alph–” You couldn’t talk because of this position, which was a bit straining, and the air was just simply knocked out of you at each thrust. You couldn’t breathe properly, feeling as if you were going to pass out. His teeth were now bared, fangs just slightly enlarged, snarling as he huffed in pleasure.

“You’re mine. All mine. Forever mine, my omega.” Your pussy clenched at the words, your mind no longer your own, and you cried out as your climax finally hit you, tightening all around his cock and now, his knot swelling instantly, impossible to pull out without hurting you, so he braced himself on his knees to push deep into you, and then he moaned loudly as his breath trembled when he locked himself inside of you, his cum filling your belly.

Your pussy milked him as your cramps finally stopped, leaving you in the stars. Your trembling was intense as you felt him spill inside of you and the more you clenched, the more cum he let out. It was never ending, the both of you moaning, groaning, and purring. He moved his hips once, a whimper leaving your lips and a growl rumbling in his chest.

He let go of your knees, his breathing heavy, his nostrils flaring as he leaned forward, his upper body bending as one hand cradles the back of your head, while the other holds your left bicep. His eyes clashed with yours, breaths intertwining between the two of you, chests heaving as the scents inside the room made your head spin.

He leaned down and you felt him lick the scent gland on your neck, his cock twitching inside of you and you swore you could feel more cum leaking out from him. You groaned, your eyes closing as he tasted you. His chest rumbled as he pressed his own scent gland against yours, true to his word. He cleansed the other alpha’s smell from you, replacing it with his own. He then proceeded to scent your mating gland, which only broke you.

He marked you in ways he probably doesn’t understand. After this, the two of you will go back to boss and secretary. You will have to leave, leaving this, leaving him behind you. Turn him into your past. You will probably have to go to an omegan therapist after this, and you would also leave Robin–

And the world stopped.

Everything. The universe. The stars. Your own breath. Your heart. Time itself. What…?

And then, fire. Fire spreading all over you coming from your mating gland. Your mating gland that was suddenly bitten into by the alpha that had his knot deep inside of you. You were bitten. He bit you. He claimed you. You were now his. 

A scream ripped out from your chest as another orgasm came crashing out of nowhere, clenching around him like a vice, milking him even more. He moaned into your skin, the hand on the back of your head holding you tightly as you shook underneath him. You didn’t understand anything. He was telling the truth. Eddie… Your– Your Alpha. He was your alpha now. For real.

He pulled away from you with a gasp for air, your blood all over his lips and teeth. You could feel his pleasure. His joy. His desire. His fear. His nervousness. His ecstasy. His delightfulness. Everything. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips, your shock still apparent, even if the kiss sent a million jolts of electricity through your body.

He pulled away with a chuckle and he proceeded to lean down again, pushing your head into his own mating gland this time. Your eyes were lost as you wondered what he wanted, his smell slowly bringing you down to earth once more, time moving again, the stars and the universe continuing their course.

“Bite me. Bite me back Omega.” Surprise was displayed on your features as soon as he said those words. It wasn’t common for omegas to bite their alphas back to seal the bond, the mating process, but people say it’s for the bond to be permanent, for eternity, for the mates to find eachother in this time and the next.

Your hands went towards his back, your nails dragging across his shirt, he never took it off. You could feel how damp it was thanks to the sweat, clinging to his body, and now– your eyes filled with tears, knowing now that he also knew you were his scent mate. This was never one sided. You have a lot of questions to ask him, but now… right now–

Your small fangs pierced through his mating gland.

He gave a small whimper as you felt iron filling your mouth. His blood. His scent. He was now all over you, and inside of you, in every sense and way possible. You moaned at his taste when you felt him twitch inside of you once more, his knot pulsing. You couldn’t believe it. As you retreated your mouth from him and laid your head back down on the carpet, you finally smiled.

He looked down at you, and you knew he was hoping you weren’t mad at him. He took your liberty and freedom in a single night thanks to his jealousy. To his possessiveness. To his fear of losing you. Your right hand moved towards his face, caressing his cheek gently, and he gave you a reassuring smile, closing his eyes, leaning towards your touch.

This is the first time you saw him like this. Vulnerable. A true smile of happiness on his lips, and it was all because of you. How could you be mad at him when he gave you what you’ve been wanting for the past six months you’ve known him? Something you didn’t think was possible, or that it was just in your head, or it was simply one sided? No… You could never be mad at him for it.

“My Alpha…” You whispered, your breaths starting to slow down as exhaustion started to wash over you, knowing your body will ache the following day, but you couldn’t care less. His eyes opened again, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, a huff escaping his nose in pure delight. He pulled away a second later, his right hand caressing the side of your face, wiping your tears away. Tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your eyes.

“My Omega… Mine only… so dumb for not realizing what I was trying to say…” Your eyes closed as a satisfied sigh escaped your lips, relief washing over you. His hand kept caressing your face, his soft lips pressing on your forehead, your cheek, tender and caring. Keeping you safe in his arms, his embrace being your safest nest, at least for tonight.

“Eddie…” You mumbled as your consciousness started to slip away as slumber started to overtake you. You heard your name being called out by him after a soft kiss was pressed against your forehead. Your heart now filled with joy, your mating gland ablaze, but you could not feel the pain. 

“Rest darling… I’ll keep you safe.” 

And then, darkness.

His back was against the headboard of the bed hidden inside his office. He just had to press a button and a bookcase would fall down to reveal itself as a king sized mattress. He held his cellphone on his left hand, calling on Chrissy while his right arm was around your sleeping frame, completely knocked out as you laid on your side, your head on his chest and right hand over his heart. 

Once he knew his knot had deflated, he got you both in a more comfortable position. He will have to explain himself to you but now, he had to–

“Tell me you didn’t boss.” Chrissy’s voice blasted in his ear, making him hiss and pull the phone away from him. His fingers were softly brushing your back, keeping you asleep.

“It is done.” His voice was low as he looked down at you, your breaths coming out from your mouth evenly and calm. A soft smile appeared on his lips, feeling the wound of your bite pulsing and burning on his shoulder, but it only made him happier. He heard Chrissy letting out an exasperated sigh on the other side of the phone, making his smile fall and look out the window.

“We haven’t solved the issue with the Hagans. You had to wait until that was finished! They will now know about your mate and target her!” His jaw clenched as his arm tightened around your frame, making you whimper slightly at the tightness but not in pain, just a sound in your sleep. 

“I won’t let them touch her, you know that.” Chrissy sighed once more. He knew his right hand was right, but he couldn’t– “Chris, I couldn’t let her slip away from me. She is my scent mate. It was going to happen sooner or later, and the other omegas were not a useful distraction any longer.”

“I know Eddie…” There was a moment of silence before Chrissy continued talking, “but it doesn’t take away the fact that she will be targeted from now on. Something you were trying to avoid all this while by keeping your distance… So, what now?”

And Eddie pondered. He looked out the window as his mind worked, the need to protect you now ten times bigger, may he say twenty thanks to the bond. You two are mated for life now. In this life and the next, and the next, and he has to protect you with everything that he is, even if his own life is at risk.

“Then I guess I have to kill Tommy once and for all and take the clan for myself.” Chrissy remained silent on the other side. It wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. He was going to do it peacefully, but Tommy was not a bright or reasonable leader. He was never happy about Eddie’s negotiations, always threatening him and his group, and Eddie knows he will threaten your life in order to get what he wants.

So he prefers to have Tommy’s head in his hands than wait for him to do something stupid.

“Alright… It’s settled.” He hears a rustling of papers, knowing she is taking down notes. He feels you stir slightly, but you just fixed your head on his chest, letting out a soft sigh as you kept sleeping. “And then?”

Eddie frowned in thought and looked down at your frame. A smirk spread on his face as he looked all over your body, his eyes resting over your waist, seeing your belly from the side.

“Get me a house. Somewhere residential, private, secure.” His voice was imperative, and he knew Chrissy was going to comply with no questions asked.

“Alright. How many rooms?” And his lips pressed on the top of your head as a smile spread on them, almost wickedly so.

“Let’s start… with four.”

End

a/n: time to get bred ig, hope u enjoyed, don't forget to leave a reblog, a comment on the reblog doesn't hurt either pretty pls

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Dracula (1931).

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Runtime: 1.8k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Obsessive Behavior, Threats of Physical Violence, Slight Gore, and Mentions of Death.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You could feel his eyes burning into you from the other side of the abruptly-too-short table, the chill of the marble slab where it threatened to press into your midriff, but you did your best to ignore both. The table had already been set by the time you were called down to the dining room, a small army of silver platters arranged neatly in the space between you and him. You hadn’t eaten since the night before, but you weren’t hungry. Even if you had been, it was hard to imagine forcing yourself to choke down anything aside from your own anxiety. You were tempted to try your luck with the generously poured glass of wine to your left, but to drink it, you’d have to reach for it, and to reach for it, you’d have to lift your hands from where they were balled in your lap and you couldn’t do that because your hands wouldn’t stop fucking shak—

“Is the meal not to your tastes, dear?”

“It’s perfect,” you responded immediately, beaming. You grabbed the wine glass before you could hesitate, drinking as much as you could stand to. Chrollo’s ever-present grin had taken on a contented lull by the time you set it down. “Remind me to thank the chef before I leave. That is, if I ever actually manage to catch him.” And then, with a forced laugh, “That is, if this storm ever lets up long enough for me to get out of here.”

As if on cue, thunder clapped outside, followed shortly by a bolt of lightning bright enough to cast the dimly light dining room in a vibrant silver haze. You shrunk into your seat, but Chrollo’s dark eyes only seemed to brighten. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t run into a member of my staff, yet. It’s been… how long? Four days?” Six. Come midnight, you’d be celebrating your week-long anniversary. “I hope you don’t think I’m keeping anyone away from you deliberately. Not that I’d mind keeping you to myself.”

It took everything you had to smile rather than cringe, to laugh rather than bury your face in your hands and scream. A day ago, you would’ve found your host’s nonchalance charming, but it was hard to find someone charming when the thought of meeting his eyes made you feel physically sick. It was hard to believe you’d been so thankful when you first turned-up on the doorstep of his dark, empty countryside mansion, when you realized you wouldn’t be at the mercy of an ancient, self-isolating millionaire but a man around you own age who, as far as you could tell, was as flustered to see you as you were to need his help. You explained that your car broke down about half a mile down the road, and he invited you to spend the night before calling for help at a more reasonable hour. The typhoon had rolled in not long before sunrise, and, well…

Again, thunder crashed and rain pelted the mansion from all directions. This time, you flinched into your seat before you could stop yourself.

It was your own fault, honestly. It’s not like there weren’t signs that something was wrong. Chrollo was charming, but he was off-putting, too. He seemed to treat the concept of personal space as more of a suggestion as a rule, whether that meant seeking you out in the tightest corner of the mansion’s sprawling library just to share a sofa truly meant for, at most, one person or letting himself into your room at night as if he couldn’t tell the difference between two in the afternoon and two in the morning. He claimed to have a full staff, and yet, you’d never run into any maids, butlers or cooks – never saw anyone who wasn’t Chrollo. His clothes always seemed to be either strange or ill-fitting, like he was wearing items from someone else’s closet, and more damningly, he didn’t seem at all suspicious of you, the stranger he’d allowed to stay in his home for nearly a week, now. No offense was particularly jarring, but it should’ve added up. You should’ve noticed sooner.

The only thing you could do, you figured, was bid your time and sneak out in the early hours of the morning. The landlines were down and you didn’t have cell reception, but the next house couldn’t be that far away, and you doubted Chrollo would follow you into the storm. Or, you hoped he wouldn’t, at least. You couldn’t really do much more than that.

“So,” Chrollo went on, and you made a point of nodding and smiling like he’d just said the smartest thing you’d ever heard, “When did you find the bodies?”

Immediately, your expression fell. A second later, you noticed that your hands had stopped shaking, but only because you’d lost the ability to move entirely.

When you finally regained the will to speak, it was all you could do to spit out something pathetically noncommittal. “...I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“Don’t be shy. I promise, I’m not mad, just curious.” He paused, letting his eyes bore into you. “You left the door unlocked.”

Ah.

The basement door, to be more specific. Calling what you’d found ‘bodies’ might’ve been a little generous, too. What little had been left of each corpse was already so badly deteriorated that it would’ve been impossible to tell which detached hand might’ve belonged to what disembodied torso. That was probably your fault, too. If you’d known to be wary of Chrollo, you would’ve known better than to follow him into the one place he’d asked you not to go, the one place he seemed to always disappear to when he wasn’t breathing down your neck.

“This morning,” you admitted. “I was bored and looking for you. Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing that it took me this long to realize you were a…”

You trailed off, but Chrollo was more than happy to finish in your stead. “A member of the Phantom Troupe?”

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from buckling – your mouth falling open as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh my god,” And then, after burying your face in your hands, “I thought you were a fucking vampire, you goth prick.”

That was enough to earn an airy chuckle from Chrollo, any condescension hidden well underneath wry amusement. While you tried to recover, he went on. “I suppose I don’t have to tell you that I don’t actually live here. In truth, I only arrived a few hours before you did – long enough to dispose of the residents and staff, even if getting rid of their remains has been an…” For once, his eyes shifted away from you, skirting to the left. “An ongoing process.”

With a shallow sigh, he pushed himself to his feet rounding the table and falling into the chair closest to you. Dinner, if he’d ever had any interest in it at all, was thoroughly forgotten as he propped an arm on the edge and rested his chin on his knuckles. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not being more upfront. In a line of work like mine, it’s so rare to find an opportunity to play house.”

So, he was a thief. No, it was more than that – he was a world-class thief, with worse crimes under his belt than a handful of homicides and the wrongful imprisonment of one confused civilian. God. This was bad. You should’ve left earlier – as soon as you found the bodies. You should’ve never gotten out of your car at all.

Slowly, you straightened your back, keeping your arms crossed as you glared half-heartedly. “Are you going to let me leave?”

He hummed, drumming his fingers against his jaw. “Now, why would I go and do something like that?”

Your heart sank in your chest. “You’re going to kill me, then?”

“Now you’re just being hurtful.” It was uncanny, how little his demeanor changed prior and post to his confession. If anything, he seemed even more smug – like he was basking in your apparent terror. “As if I could be so wasteful. Besides, I was under the impression that you’ve been enjoying out time together.”

“And I was under the impression that you weren’t a serial killer!” You threw up your hands, agitation quickly overshadowing the worst of your nerves. “Things can change!”

“I suppose they can.” He was so frustratingly calm. If the memory of his dissected victims wasn’t burnt so deeply into your mind, you would’ve rolled your eyes. “And eventually, things will. You don’t think I plan to keep you trapped in this estate forever, do you?”

Rather than dwell on the implication, you moved on swiftly. “If you’re not going to hurt me, you can’t stop me from leaving. The storm can’t be more dangerous than spending another night with you.”

Somehow, his smile only seemed to grow that much wider. “Did you know that the majority of deaths related to natural disasters are from delayed attempts to evacuate? There are all sorts of threats – flooding, debris, sinkholes…” He brightened with each listed hazard, and you tried (and failed) not to picture yourself drowning in muddy rainwater. “Oh, and sickness, of course. Spend enough time in the rain and it won’t matter if you eventually find shelter – you’ll die of pneumonia in a matter of weeks.”

“You don’t know—”

“And, for the record, I said I wasn’t planning to kill you. You never asked about anything else.” He let out a dry chuckle. “I’m sorry, but I sure you understand. It’d just be irresponsible to promise that I’ll never have to, say, dislocate your ankle to stop you from making a very brash, very unadvisable decision.”

“Like calling the cops.”

“Like trying to go outside in a very bad, very easily deadly storm,” he clarified. “You can contact anyone you’d like, but please, try to be considerate. I’m going to run out of room in the basement eventually.”

This time, when you melted into your seat, it wasn’t out of reflex or anxiety, but in a deliberate effort to put that much more distance between him and you. “I… I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to die,” you admitted, taking longer than it should’ve to say something so glaringly obvious. “Tell me what I have to do to make that not happen.”

Yet another clap of thunder. This time, the lightning didn’t so much as tint his soulless eyes. “Straight to the point, as always. I like that about you.”

For the first time, he seemed to hesitate – a pink haze spreading over his pale cheeks as he reached out and laid his hand, almost gingerly, over yours. His trepidation was short-lived, though, only lasting up until the second you tried to pull away and he had an excuse to intertwine his fingers with yours, his grip tight enough to bruise.

“Why don’t we get to bed, darling?”  

[hoshifighting]

        joshua + fake saints

— it’s funny, really, standing here in this pristine church, sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows, feeling the weight of judgment from everyone around you—but none of them actually have a clue. they don’t know a damn thing about what you and joshua were really up to last night.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, can be sensitve content because of: church setting, a kind of joke about joshua knowing where the clit is, fingering, oral (f. receiving), joshua and reader are naaaaastyy, fucking on the kitchen, basement, supply closet, etc.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“oh, honey, you look so lovely today,” joshua’s mom smiles at you, her voice warm and sweet, like she’s completely unaware of how you’re standing there with a hickey hidden under the stiff collar of your white button-up shirt. you try not to shift too much, praying she doesn’t notice how the purple bruise is just barely covered.

joshua’s beside you, all innocent smiles and nods, hands clasped in front of him like he’s a damn saint. but you know better. that same boy who leads saturday morning service is the same one who had you bent over a desk last night, splitting you in half like it was his mission from god himself.

“thank you, mrs. hong,” you manage, keeping your voice steady as you shift a little, feeling joshua’s eyes burning into the side of your neck. he knows what he did. he knows exactly where he marked you. it’s almost like he’s proud of it, the little shit. his gaze flicks over the small part of the bruise that’s peeking out, and you swear there’s the slightest smirk playing on his lips.

you nudge him with your elbow, and he coughs, clearly trying to look anywhere but directly at it. his mom’s still talking about something, but neither of you are paying attention anymore.

“it’s always such a pleasure to have you two leading the service,” she says, as she adjusts her purse on her shoulder.

“oh, thank you, mrs. hong. we love doing it. by the way, what time should we get here next week?” you ask, mostly to save the conversation.

mrs. hong smiles wider. “oh, just the usual, dear. around 8 a.m. should be fine.”

the church hall’s still buzzing with people, everyone saying their goodbyes, chatting about the upcoming scavenger hunt, totally oblivious to what you and joshua were doing just last night.

you two were supposed to be working on the paper flags for the event, all innocent, making cute decorations, maybe holding hands or whatever—but nope. one thing led to another, and next thing you know, you’re naked on that old wooden desk in the church basement, your knees pressed into splinters and your mind completely wiped clean from anything about flags.

he had you bent over, his cock buried so deep inside you, you couldn’t even think straight. fuck, the way he moved… all controlled, pulling your hair back just enough to make you arch your back for him. like some kind of secret expert, the good church boy knew exactly where your clit was, his fingers circling it until you couldn’t even hold back the moans anymore.

“never would've guessed you’d know where that is,” you’d gasped between heavy breaths.

and his answer? he just gave you that sweet, innocent smile of his, like it was no big deal, like he wasn’t fucking you raw in the church basement. “what, you think i don’t know how to treat you right?”

yeah, that same boy, the one giving your back a little squeeze right now as he nods along with his mom’s talk about tomorrow’s sermon, all calm and collected like he didn’t have you falling apart underneath him less than twenty-four hours ago.

“anyway, y/n, i’ll see you two,” his mom says, finally turning away, leaving you and joshua standing there.

as soon as she’s out of earshot, you feel him lean in, his lips brushing just below your ear, voice low enough only for you to hear. “still sore, baby?”

you swallow hard, cheeks flushing. “shut up.”

it’s fucking hilarious, really, when you think about it. you and joshua, of all people, thought you’d be the kind of couple that’d settle for shy, soft kisses and holding hands under the table. just sweet, church-going, practically angelic—you thought that’d be your thing.

but nah, that version of you died the first time he kissed you like he meant it. like, really kissed you. tongues slipping past lips, hands gripping skin like he’d been starved for it his entire life.

you didn’t know what was hiding inside both of you until that first time he grabbed the back of your neck and tugged you closer, pressing his body into yours so tight you could feel how hard he was through his jeans. the surprise on his face was priceless when your response wasn’t some innocent gasp or a shy giggle. no, you moaned—loud, shameless—and pulled him down harder, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging him down like you wanted to devour him whole, pushing his head between your thighs so he can eat you out.

e looked up at you with those pretty eyes of his, eyes that had no business being as filthy as they were right then, and without another word, his mouth was on you.

you’re pretty sure you almost blacked out that first time he ate you out. like, how the hell was he so good at that? his tongue flicked over your clit, slow and teasing, before he got serious and sucked, moaning into you like he couldn’t get enough.

and you—you were a mess, hand buried in his hair, tugging him closer, desperate for more, always more. it was funny, honestly, how you’d both gone from “innocent” hand-holding to this. “yes, yes, yes, josh,” you gasped, feeling the way he was licking and sucking like a man on a mission.

he didn’t respond, just gripped your thighs tighter and kept going, like he was trying to make you see the paradise itself.

and then there was that other time… when you two were supposed to just watch a movie. popcorn in hand, sitting all cozy on his couch, blankets thrown over your laps like nothing was out of the ordinary. except the second the movie started, you were all over each other. like, who cared about some dumb rom-com when joshua’s hands were slipping under your shirt, fingers grazing over your bra, and he was kissing you like he was gonna die if he didn’t have you?

“fuck the movie,” he’d whispered, voice all low and rough as he pushed you back against the couch. you agreed, obviously, grabbing at his clothes while he practically tore yours off. soon enough, he had you straddling his lap, his cock hard and pressing against your stomach, and you were already soaking, grinding down on him.

he chuckled, breath hot against your neck. “you’re so nasty babe, pussy drooling on my cock, hm?”

you couldn’t help the way you pushed down harder, biting your lip as his hands slid up to your waist, helping guide your hips.

and then, somehow, you ended up against the couch cushions, his fingers teasing your entrance before sliding in, stretching you out so perfectly, it had your eyes rolling back. “yes babygirl, moan for me,” he muttered, watching you fall apart under him, and it was the hottest thing—how gentle joshua could look while doing the dirtiest things.

like when he had you bent over the kitchen counter one day, right after you two had been “prepping dinner.” you were chopping vegetables, talking about church or something, and suddenly he was behind you, pressing his hard-on against your ass, his breath hot against your neck.

“you know what i’ve been thinking about?” he’d whispered, hands slipping under your shirt, brushing against your skin.

“hmm?” you hummed, trying to stay focused, but the heat between your legs was getting worse by the second.

“you,” he breathed, one hand tapping the kitchen counter. “bent over right here.”

and before you could even respond, he had you flipped around, your hands bracing against the counter as he pulled your leggings down, his fingers sliding between your folds to find you already dripping. you’d let out a choked moan, and that was all it took for him to line up and thrust into you, filling you to the hilt.

it wasn’t long before his pace quickened, and your moans filled the kitchen, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with his grunts. the counter was digging into your stomach, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was how deep he was inside you, how good he felt, and how much you wanted more. always more.

“josh, fuck,” you gasped, barely able to keep yourself upright. “so f-fucking gooood—”

his hand slipped around to your front, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that had you flinching. it was dirty and rough, and so fucking different from anything you thought you’d have with him. but it was everything you needed. everything you didn’t even know you both were capable of.

and then there was that time after the church picnic—when everyone else was packing up, getting ready to leave, and you two snuck off to the supply closet. you barely got the door closed before he was on you, pushing you up against the shelves, hands all over you like he couldn’t wait another second.

“this is fucking crazy,” he’d whispered against your lips, but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t. his fingers were already unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down just enough to give him access. and before you knew it, his hand was between your legs, fingers moving so fast you were shaking, clinging to his shoulders like you might collapse if he stopped.

no one here knows the things you two have done, the way you’ve turned each other inside out, discovering things about yourselves that you didn’t even know existed.

it’s wild to think that it all started with those innocent touches, those shy glances. and now, you can’t even look at him without thinking about how his lips feel on your skin, how his cock feels buried inside you, the way he whispers your name when he’s cumming.

no, holding hands and superficial kisses weren’t ever going to be enough for you two. not even close.

[xxsabitoxx]

Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 

Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 

[sooniebby]

I keep thinking about a male kpop idol in a group with seven members—but one of them being heavily into you. He’s the maknae and as the youngest, he was obviously seen as the cutest. You were the leader, the eldest.

As the eldest, you debuted at the age of 21, a good enough age. The maknae was 17. A bit young, but nothing terrible. The first four years of your career, you all played it safe, making sure none of the songs were too sexual in nature. Only two of you were of age the first few years anyway.

However, you still somehow give off sex appeal naturally. So many of your fans were just itching for a sexy concept so you could show it off properly. And in four years, you would be able to. Your creative director suggested a LGBT story line for the MV you guys were shooting. You and another member, the second eldest, were set to act as the gay lovers.

But you could tell during the entire time shooting, mainly during your scenes, the maknae looked… jealous? Or even angry. But you couldn’t dwell on it too much, comeback preparations are hectic. It wasn’t until an hour before your first performance when you got to talk to Soojin, the maknae.

Soojin couldn’t really like you in the eye though. Your clothing, on par with the sensual themes of the song, was… wow to say the least. The tightest pants know to man (was that your bulge?) and a cropped shirt with a low v cut that had a backless opening. He wouldn’t even call it a shirt at this point. It’s magic that the shirt stayed up.

He only muttered something about being fine which you had to take as gospel when you guys were called to preform. The dance wasn’t all that sexual but there were a few parts where Soojin and the members touched you.

Originally, Soojin’s hand just lightly grazes your back before pulling away. But during the performance, he touched your back directly, his hand right against your skin as he slid down. You were so fucking lucky you didn’t face the audience during this part. Your eyes were wide open, feeling him intentionally go slow, before resting dangerously close to your ass.

At first, you thought he was just trying to make it feel more real for the audience. But when the second part came, you had to rest your foot on his knee while his hand gripped your thighs… when did his hand get so big? He wasn’t even supposed to move his hand upwards but he did… his finger grazed your crotch lightly, causing your dick to twitch.

These fucking pants!!

When you pulled away, you saw the faint sight of a smirk on his lips. Just what the fuck was he getting at doing that?! At least there was only two last parts where he touched you. Towards the end of the song, the boys carried you up, like you were sitting in the air. And unfortunately for you, Soojin’s hands were gripping your butt. And he made sure to grip it tightly. Even as they put you back down, his hands lingered on your ass just a second longer, making sure to squeeze it.

At the end of the song, with the sensual swayed hips move out of the way, you all began to move to your ending pose. As you sang your final part, you moved to the center part, another member resting his hand on your shoulder, he’s supposed to. But then Soojin, he’s supposed to just stand next to you… but no, he seems set on just getting you bothered. He rests his hand on the curve on your hips and just leaves it there, making it seem like it’s intentional.

Once you hear your fans screaming, you expect him to move away, but no, he fucking pulls you close and grins, waving a piece sign at the crowd. You can only force a strained smile… because your cock is fucking hard. seriously… when did he get so strong on being able to pull you so easily? As you all begin to leave the stage, Soojin’s lips press against your ears as his breathing filled your head.

“Hyung, don’t change yet. Follow me to the closet.”

And then he just pulled away, not even looking back. Because he just knew you were going to follow. And… you instantly followed him. You were quickly pulled into the closet, it was dimly lit as you couldn’t see his face clearly. All you could feel was his arms trailing your body hungrily as he pressed chaste kisses to your neck.

“Just what were they thinking putting you in this..?” His hand pulled at your shirt. “If this wasn’t half our paycheck I would rip it to shreds. You’re so sexy, Hyung. Been dreaming about you.”

You could only whimper, too focused on your pleasure to really ask what he meant by that. His hands fiddle with your pants, unbuckling them as he pulled them quickly, along with your underwear. He gripped your thighs and pulled you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

Soojin’s breathing slowed as he pressed his lips to your neck for a second, just lightly sucking before moving to your ear.

“I’ve been waiting since I first saw you. There’s no way I can hold back, Hyung. Sorry.”

You walked out that closet with a slight limp and cum filled underwear. And as you shifted uncomfortably on the seat of the van, you checked social media to already see people making edits of the performance.

Yeah, Soojin was not subtle the entire performance. He was practically looking at you with lust the entire time—it’s scary. His touch was even more sensual through the fancams. As you winced after the van ran over a pothole, the second eldest member, Wonshik, glanced over at you with a knowing smirk.

Oh fuck… no way were you guys keeping this a secret from the others.

This is so random lololol!!! I just got bored and decided to write it cuz I wanted to get it out of my head. Didnt fully write the smut cuz.. it’s teasing.. like he did during the performance… big brained 🫶🏼

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @tehyunnie @remdayz @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @kiiyoooo @smellwell @tomoeroi @flurrina @rhetorical-conscience

[nadvs]

enemies to lovers with rafe. you go on a road trip with your friends (including topper etc..). one night reader and the rest of the friendgroup gets high and reader and rafe ends up fucking. pretty pretty please

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

content warning drug use

You don’t know why Rafe hates you so much. Since you set out on your road trip this morning, he’s been standoffish. But that’s nothing new from him. He’s always had an attitude reserved specifically for you.

You’ve always assumed he didn’t like you butting in on guy time, but Topper and Kelce have been your best friends since you were kids. You’re not going to stop spending time with them just because Rafe doesn’t want you around.

You’re in the backseat with Kelce, windows down as Rafe drives and Topper controls the music. You’ve been on the road for a few hours now, sights set on a beach house you rented to spend the night in.

When you stop at a gas station, Topper and Kelce pile out of the car to load up on snacks. You’re slower than them as you collect your things. You notice Rafe waiting by your open door, stood between the car and the pump.

“Today,” he snaps. You realize he’s trying to get to the gas tank.

“You can go around,” you reply.

“I shouldn’t have to,” he says tensely. “Why are you so fucking slow?”

You slide out of your seat and your feet find the ground, shutting the door and facing Rafe. He towers over you with a clenched jaw, glaring down at you.

“You have your whole life to be an asshole,” you mutter. “Can’t you take a day off? For once?”

He only gives you the same glare you’ve been on the receiving end of for months.

“What’s your problem?” you ask.

“My problem?” he mutters. Instead of your usual sharp retort, Rafe watches your face fall ever so slightly.

“What did I do to you?” you say softly, at a loss for why he’s always so combative towards you.

He scoffs and brushes past you, no regard for personal space as his body presses against yours. You hate that the feeling sends a rush of arousal through you. You despise him, but you can’t deny that he’s attractive.

As Rafe fills up the gas tank, he thinks about how much he hates that you look at him like that. Like you’re revolted by him.

He shakes his head. You’re so goddamned stuck-up. From the moment he met you, he could tell you’d never even glance in his direction. He never stood a chance and you love to make it obvious.

When you arrive at the beach house, you have dinner with your friends, ignoring Rafe like usual. The four of you head down to the beach to get high and watch the sunset.

Rafe trails behind you as you make your way to the shore, watching the way your ass moves with every step, feeling himself getting hard like he always does when he stares at you too long.

After a few puffs of the joint, your head starts swimming with bliss. You sit by the shore together, feet digging into the soft sand, warm wind pressing against your skin, soaking every sensation in.

Rafe watches the way the setting sun hits your features. He knows he’s not sober if he’s admitting to himself that you’re beautiful. He’s supposed to hate you.

The conversation between your friends is silly and hard to follow as it always is when you get high together. You’re not sure how much time passes when the boys call it a night.

You decide to stay sitting on the beach alone, letting the high wash over you as the waves pull up and down the shore, the moonlight glistening on the water.

Rafe’s been thinking about how you looked at him earlier today all night. The way you asked him what you did to him is turning over and over in his mind and he can’t shake it.

He decides to knock on your door after everyone has already gone to bed, but you don’t answer. When he looks out of the glass patio doors and spots your silhouette way out in the distance, he makes his way out into the warm night.

You hear someone say your name. You’re speechless when you turn to see Rafe walking towards you, shirtless, hair wet from the shower, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. You try not to stare.

You can’t think of why the hell he would come here. If you two aren’t arguing, you’re ignoring each other.

“What?” you finally say, scowling. Rafe sits next to you, making your brows furrow in confusion.

You’ve never been plunged into privacy with him like this before.

Rafe doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. It must be a twisted mix of the weed and the way you looked at him and how long he’s been grappling with the fact that he wants you.

“You wanna know what you did to me?” he asks. “What you did - what you keep fucking doing is looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you-” He takes a breath, irritation and confusion and vulnerability gripping him. “Like you’re disgusted by me.”

“Rafe,” you scoff. God, even the way you say his name is spiteful. “You’re joking, right? You’ve been mean to me since we met.”

“Because you hate me for no fucking reason.”

“You thought I hated you, so you decided to hate me back?” you snap. “You’re ridiculous. You can…”

You were about to tell him he can leave you alone now, but the depth in his stare and the movement of his rising and falling chest and the sight of his big, bare arms propped up on his knees ignites lust to curl deep in your core.

“I can what?” he says, leaning closer to you. You can smell his sharp body wash, eyes widening when you notice just how nice his lips are.

It’s a look you’ve never given him before. At least, he’s never seen it himself.

“You always such a fucking mouth on you. Now you won’t talk?” he scoffs. “I can what? Do this?”

He leans even closer, eyes half-lidded as he gazes down at you, his mouth an inch away from yours. He hovers, so prideful that he’s forcing you to have to make the final move.

“You can do whatever you want,” you mutter, throwing the pressure back onto him.

Rafe can’t control himself anymore. He cups your cheek roughly, crashing his lips onto yours so hard that you jolt backwards. He doesn’t lose contact, shoving you down to the ground, grinding his growing cock against you.

His mouth is hot, his tongue pushing into your mouth with fervor. You can’t believe that someone you thought despised you is touching you like this.

Your hands roughly drag up Rafe’s warm, firm back and he smiles against your lips, revelling in the feeling of you wanting him, too.

He could have been doing this instead of arguing with you? How much time has he wasted?

Eager hands slip under your shirt and when he dips into your bra to palm your breasts, he exhales sharply. He pulls back, his breath on your cheek as he kneads you, thumbs rubbing over your nipples.

“Whatever I want, huh?” he rasps. “What if I want to fuck you?”

“Then do it,” you reply, your own words shocking you.

Your shorts are soon bunched into a pile by your feet between hard kisses. His hand settles between your legs, pushing your panties to the side, his fingers dipping between your folds, spreading you open.

“Damn,” Rafe whispers, running his hand up and down your wet core. You feel so fucking perfect. This is what he’s been missing out on?

The sensation of his smooth, slow strokes gives you goosebumps. It feels amazing all on its own, but combined with the solace of the drugs in your system, it’s otherwordly.

Rafe dips past the waistband of his sweats and pulls his cock out, almost breathless when he lines himself up against your entrance.

You spread your legs wider, needy for him. He looks down at you, the planes of his handsome face shadowed by the night, as he slowly fills you, every inch better than the last.

He loves the way you squeeze your eyes shut and gasp as he bottoms out inside you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth, thrusts quickly getting hard and fast.

Rafe grips your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks and tilting your head to look at him. You meet his eyes, your moans louder than the waves crashing behind you.

He finds your clit with ease, rubbing in circles, making you tremble when you reach your peak. His thrusts get sloppy as you cum, following you quickly, mumbling a string of fuck’s with his orgasm.

Rafe collapses on top of you, your breaths fast and shallow.

When he sits up to gaze at you again, he thinks about how this blissful, fucked out look on your face is so much better than the glares you’re always giving him. And he wants to keep earning this specific look from you over and over and over again.

[f1goat]

more than friends + lando norris x part four

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

part one / part two / part three

“Lan,” you start you sentence a bit shy, “when uh, when are we going to have sex?” You continue to ask. You feel your cheeks reddening while asking him the question. Lando looks confused at your sudden question. 

“What’s with the hurry?” He asks you a bit confused.

You let out a nervous laugh. “This is going to sound stupid,” you say nervous, “but there’s this guy who asked me on a date.”

“So?” Lando asks. He already feels jealousy coming up. Someone asked you onto a date? He wonders who asked you. Fuck. 

“I uh, I wanted to wait with the date for when I’m not a virgin anymore,” you confess, “I think it’s uh, it’s better for my confidence.” Is it bad that you don’t tell Lando that you want him, specifically him, to take your virginity? 

“How long can you stall him?” Lando asks you, “because I don’t think it’s a good idea to rush this.”

“Uh now I already told him I would go away with you for the triple header,” you explain, “so at least three weeks.”

Lando feels a bit more relieved now. In three weeks a lot can change right? Maybe he will finally find the confidence to tell you about his crush. Maybe not. Since he has a crush on you for multiple years and all those years weren’t enough to gather the confidence to tell you… 

“That’ll work,” Lando eventually says. 

“So what’s next?” You ask Lando, “I feel like there’s so much you still have to teach me.”

“Relax babygirl,” Lando says, “I think we need to focus on how I’m going to pack my suitcase with stuff for three weeks in an hour..”

“You didn’t pack yet?” You ask Lando confused, “We’re leaving in an hour!”

“Oops?” Lando laughs.

You let out a soft sigh. “You never change,” you tell Lando eventually with a small smile. Then you stand up to help Lando pack his stuff. As you almost always do. It doesn’t take the two of you long. Like a couple times earlier, you secretly put some shirts into Lando his luggage. The boy is way too stubborn to pack something else then hoodies, but he never checks the weather. Something you of course already did while packing your own stuff, so you know for sure he needs some normal shirts.

“Thanks babygirl,” Lando says after he closes the zippers. He moves closer to you and presses a kiss against your forehead. You don’t know what has gotten into you, but without giving it a second thought you press a kiss onto Lando his lips. Lando smiles during the kiss. He pulls you closer to himself and wraps his arms around your body. The kiss was meant as a simple, innocent one. But Lando is quick to make it turn into a make out session. His hands are roaming over your body. Quickly he finds your ass. Softly he squeezes it a couple times. You let out a soft moan while your lips are still pressed on Lando’s. 

Lando his ringtone distracts the both of you from what you were doing. You watch him pick up and say a simple ‘okay’ after a couple seconds. “The driver is here,” he informs you, you show him a small nod. He grabs his luggage and takes a couple of your backs with him as well. 

“You know,” Lando tells you, “you’re a great kisser.” In the mean time the two of you walk towards the driver who’s there to bring you to the airport. 

“I learned from the best,” you tell Lando with a small innocent smile.

Lando lets out a soft laugh. “Imagine how great you will be on all the other things with such a good teacher,” he tells you with the same laugh. 

“We will see,” you reply.

+++

Lando sighs when he sits down in his drivers room. You don’t know what to say. He just lost a great lap time due to track limits. He would be placed second tomorrow if he didn’t lose his time. You know he’s probably mad at himself right now. Lando mutters softly. You can’t hear him properly, but you guess he’s calling himself an idiot. It hurts you to see him like this. You have been here for all his highs in formula one, but also for all of his lows. You have seen him this upset with himself many times before. It never hurts less. 

“Lan,” you softly say. He doesn’t even look at you while responding, “Don’t say it isn’t my fault, I’m the one who got track limits,” he states. 

“Maybe I can cheer you up?” You eventually suggest.

“Cheer me up?” Lando asks you confused.

“Distract you a bit,” you continue.

“How babygirl?” Lando asks you even more confused.

“What about another lesson?” You ask Lando, “You could teach me how to give you a blowjob.”

“But I didn’t even went down on you,” Lando quickly brings in, “you don’t have to do this.”

“What if I want to? You look like you can use something that cheers you up,” you state. 

“Sure?” Lando asks you. You show him a nod. “Words,” Lando states, reminding you about his need for you to say everything. “Yes Lando,” you say, “I want to give you a blowjob.” Lando’s facial expression is quick to bright up. He’s already smiling about the idea of your lips around his dick. It even causes him to get a boner.

“But you need to tell me what to do,” you tell Lando a bit nervous. Lando is quick to nod, he grabs one of your hands and moves it slowly to his boner. You don’t wait for a new instruction, slowly you palm his already hard bulge through his race suit. Lando stays silent for a bit, he enjoys your movements in peace. You apply a bit more pressure while palming him. In the mean time you press a kiss against Lando his neck. 

After a few minutes of moving slowly on his bulge, you try to grab his dick through his race suit. Lando groans when you take him inside your hand. He pulls down the zipper of his race suit. While he unzips his suit, you take a good look at him. It feels almost unfair how hot he is. His fireproof is doing all kind of things to you. 

“Can I take it off?” Lando asks you. “Yes,” you reply quickly. You move your hands away from him, giving him the space to pull of his race suit. Lando grins. He kicks off his shoes and then pulls off the suit to step out of it. You keep looking at him. It feels so bare to see him in only his briefs, but then you remind yourself that he will remove those too in a bit.

Before Lando can pull his briefs off himself, you move your lips to his chest. You press multiple kisses against it, slowly moving down towards his dick. In the mean time you hold his boner in your hand, slowly stroking it. When you reach the edge of his boxers, you stop stroking his member. Slowly you pull his briefs a bit down. His hard member is quick to pop out of his briefs. Lando continues your movements and takes off his boxer. 

You take your time to look at his dick. You have seen some porn movies before, so you already had an imagine from how it would look. But in a weird way, it seems more appealing to you now. Lando his member is pretty. You never thought you would think that about a dick. He watches you while you stare at his member. You notice the thick vein that is laying onto his dick, now that you think about it. His whole member seems thick. Maybe not as long as those in the porn movies, but you already guessed that those were a bit fake. You wonder how this will ever fit inside of your mouth and one day inside of your vagina. 

“If you’re not sure, you don’t have to do this,” Lando softly tells you. 

“No,” you quickly state, “I want to do this. Just tell me what to do.”

Lando grins happily. He’s glad you still want to blow him. He isn’t sure if a cold shower would have helped this time. In the mean time you move your hands onto his dick again. Lando feels himself hardening even more. Has he ever been this hard? You explore his dick slowly with your hands. You trace the thick vein on top of it with one of your fingers while waiting for Lando to say something. 

“You uh, you can lick it a bit if you want?” Lando asks you, “Make it a bit wet.”

You are quick to take his words into action. Without giving it a second thought, you move your head closer to his member. Carefully you place your tongue onto it, even more careful you give him a couple licks. Lando lets out a soft moan. You continue your movements. You let your tongue slide over his dick. Exploring the way it feels on your tongue. 

“Put it in your mouth,” Lando says after a while.

You do what he says. With a careful movement you take the top of his dick inside your mouth. You try to go as deep as you can, but you’re quick to feel some tears popping up in the corners of your eyes.

“Slowly babygirl,” Lando says, “you don’t have to take everything inside. The top is the most sensitive part.”

You remove your mouth shortly to take a deep breath. When you place his dick back into your mouth, you try to remember his words. You make sure the top of his boner is inside your mouth, there’s room for a bit more but you act carefully. You remind yourself to take your time. Slowly you lick around his tip with your tongue. It earns you another moan from Lando. Something that makes you feel good on the inside. Giddy even. 

“Move your head a bit down and up,” Lando instructs you, “Try to make the same stroking movements from before, but now with your mouth.”

Again you take Lando his words into action. Slowly you move your head up and down. You let your mouth slide over his dick a couple times. Lando moans again. You feel proud that you are the reason of those moans. Without thinking about it, you take the part of his member that isn’t in your mouth into your hand. You start to stroke it, alining the movements with the bobbing you do with your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Lando groans, “You’re good at this.”

His words make you feel even better. It causes you to fasten your movements. You try to lick his tip as well in the mean time. Lando is quick to start to become a moaning mess underneath your touch. You feel his dick pulse in your mouth. 

“If you don’t want a taste, you should finish with your hands,” Lando grunts. You don’t act on his words, you continue your earlier movements. Maybe you do want a taste? 

Lando looks at you while feeling himself getting close to his orgasm. He looks at the way you stare at his dick while making the movements that make him feel like this. He had a couple blowjobs before from different girls, but none of them felt as good as from you. How can someone like you - with no sexual experience - be so much better then others? It’s insane. While looking at you he feels his orgasm getting really close.

“Last warning babygirl,” he tells you softly. You still don’t remove your mouth from his dick. Because of his words you know that he’s close, his moans are also giving that part away. You try to take his dick a bit deeper inside your mouth. Before you know it, you notice a salty taste inside your mouth. You quick to find the reason. Lando just came.

Slowly you continue your movements from before, but you decrease your pace more and more. A couple more drops of Lando his cum are finding it’s way inside your mouth. When you think he’s completely empty you remove your mouth. While looking at Lando you swallow his cum. 

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “I could come again by looking at you doing that.”

You show Lando a shy smile. He pulls you close onto himself. Lando presses a small kiss onto your forehead before moving his lips to yours. He presses another kiss onto your lips. 

“Will you believe me if I tell you that you just gave me the blowjob of my life?” Lando asks you. You are quick to shake your head, “No,” you say. 

“You just did babygirl,” Lando tells you honestly, “I have never been blowed this good before.”

You laugh softly. “Maybe this says something about those others girls,” you say. 

“No,” Lando quickly states, “It says everything about you. You’re really good at this babe. And you did find a really good way to distract me.”

You laugh, “I’ll remember that for the next time. Don’t beat yourself up because of it Lan, tomorrow you will fight for a lot of points. I bet you’re even on the podium.”

“If I get a podium I want to celebrate if with eating you out,” Lando states.

You laugh again. “That’s not a celebration.”

“It is for me.”

Fuck. Why is your stomach tightening because of Lando his words? This can’t be good.

part five

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl @kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes

[planetpedri]

Calling after me — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Pablo had a ... different relationship. You had all the perks of one, staying together for days on end, practically living together, stolen kisses, but you hadn't yet crossed the line to dating. After Gavi's return back playing, he is certain he's ready to take the next step.

Word count: 720+

Disclaimer/s: fluff ! also this was meant to be replied to a request “a gavi flick??” but i accidentally posted instead of saving to drafts ..

A/N: GAVI’S SOOO FUCKING BACK IM SUCH A HAPPY CAMPER.

The match had just ended. And by just, well, that meant a few hours ago, but Gavi was already at your door step, knocking aggressively on your apartment door. You knew it was him because he did what he liked to call, ‘his special knock’ which consisted of three rapid knocks, and then a cycle of one, two, three, four, and repeat.

Tugging on a hoodie, his hoodie, you open the door with a long sigh. A smile creeps onto your face though, “hey, congrats on the win.”

Gavi is quick to step inside, “hey.” He says softly, closing the door behind him before he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

Your cheeks hurt by the time you two get to the living room, Gavi’s pecks across your face only sent a strong case of the butterflies straight to your stomach.

“You did good today, how did it feel to be back on the pitch?” You hum against his lips.

The brunette reaches one hand up to push a stray strand from your face, eventually coming down to cup your jaw. “It felt amazing.” He clears his throat, “and i’ve been thinking…” He trails off, eyes flickering between yours.

Your heart thumps in your chest, meeting his eyes. “About..?” Your fingers trace his knuckles, urging him to speak.

“Us.” He says simply. “I told you I wasn’t ready for anything serious, but after I got off the pitch, I realized I don’t know why I was holding out. I want you, I want us, and more specifically, I want it public.”

If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly against him, you definitely wouldn’t keeled over. Your brain went fuzzy and your cheeks ached. “Yeah?” You force out, all other words caught in your throat.

“Oh yeah.” He nods assuringly, his head dipping down to capture your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. Only pulling away to press a kiss to your forehead. “So? Thoughts?”

Tilting your head up, you laugh lightly. “Do you really need me to give you them? I think my answer is pretty obvious.”

Gavi chuckles, “I know that, but I would like to hear it.”

Giving in, you sigh. “I have been waiting for this moment for months. So, the answer is if you’re all in, then I am all in.” Your fingers trail down his hand to lightly take hold of his wrist, which sent a tingle up Gavi’s spine.

“Good. I’m glad.” There’s three beats of silence, in which the two of you simply stare at each other. “This does mean you’re my girlfriend now, right?”

Amusement flashes across your face, “obviously, you idiot. I’m all yours.”

A low groan escapes Gavi’s lips, “God that is so good to hear.” He sighs, hands dropping back to your waist. “Now about our living arrangements...”

“Slow your damn roll.” You laugh, head tipping back. Gavi watches your face closely, his eyes shining with adoration. “Now, I was just about to make dinner. You up for a celebratory meal?”

“Depends, what are you making?”

You shrug, “whatever you’re hungry for.” You internally groan, recognizing how that sounded, and just how boyish your boyfriend was. The slow growing smirk on his face already proving just exactly what you knew.

“Well..”

“Food. Human food. Food I can cook.” You quirk your eyebrows, removing his grip from your waist, eliciting a groan from Gavi’s lips.

“Aw, come on!” He whines out your name, calling after you as you make a hasty retreat to the kitchen. Gavi walks after you, following your giggles all the way. “Pasta would be great!”

“Any specific kind?” You ask over your shoulder. “I have chicken defrosting already, might as well use it.”

“Chicken Alfredo?” Gavi quirks up, “that sounds amazing right now, actually.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get.” You spin around on your heels, squeaking when you realize Gavi was in fact right behind you. He swiftly grips your waist and pulls you to his chest. “Hey! I’m trying to start making dinner!”

“Just another kiss, that’s all I want.” He pouts, leaning his head to the side, giving you a look you couldn’t resist.

Pushing yourself up onto your tip toes, you give him just what he wanted. One final kiss so you could make your new boyfriend the dinner he deserved.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, cheating

Author’s note: so, i got a request from the lovely @lfdybadgirlsdiw that i wasnt able to let go and now, here we are, the beginning of a new five-parter! enjoy! lmk what you think, thanks! <3

Wordcount: 5.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The first little crack.

“No, that is your side. And this should be mine.” Joe argued, arms flailing, gesturing at both sides of the bed as he stood at the foot of it.

The first little crack of many.

“Joe. I have always slept on this side,” you said, already in bed, tucked up and all cosy, barely able to keep your eyes open still.

If you hadn’t been aware of how much Joe had been pushing to get his way lately, this could have come across as playful banter.

“Listen. If we’re going to establish actual sides, you should be furthest away from the door.”

But given how Joe had been making you feel after compromising, after giving in and meeting you halfway, no one would think this was funny.

“Why?” you closed your eyes and nuzzled into your pillow, not even slightly bothered by Joe’s pleading who desperately wished you’d roll over to what, up until now, had been his side of the bed.

“For… just, because.”

“Hmmno.”

“For danger. What if a burglar gets in?”

You sighed. Deeply. Sank into your pillow more. It was the kind of breath released just before you were about to doze off, and it was meant to signal that you weren’t going to engage in this discussion any longer.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Joe could go and lay on his side of your bed, or he could go and sleep on the sofa, and that was that.

“Babe.” Joe tried to give you a little push, but the way you’d wrapped yourself up proved you needed more than just a slight shove to end up where he wanted you.

“Hmm.”

You were bone-tired, already all sunken into the mattress, ready to go visit another planet for a good few hours.

“Babe.”

You opened a bleary eye to see Joe still look just as awake and ready to win this argument as he was when you’d closed your eyes.

“This flat won’t get burgled.”

“You don’t know that. Might have someone kick in the door tonight, and, then what? Hmm?”

Something cute about this need to protect you, and you knew that’s what he could dress this up as, but the timing of it was so God-awful, you couldn’t see past the fact that you wanted to fall asleep on your own side of the bed already.

“Think of it this way,” you started, holding a stretched hand out that Joe easily took, knees pressing into the mattress as he towered over you for a minute. “In case of a fire, I’ll be the first one out.”

And just like that, Joe let himself fall into the empty spot next to you, seemingly giving up and giving in.

Good.

“A fire is much more likely than a burglar.” You concluded, word slurred and eyes closing again as Joe got his legs underneath the covers.

“That’s not as good but…” Joe thought for a second, then said, “If a fire breaks out here, it’ll be from that old hair thing of yours. That thing you use that smells like it’s melting.”

“See?” you mumbled, disagreeing, but happy to let sleep take you.

“Or because you leave an empty pot on a burner again.”

“Mhm.” Little less happy. You only did that once and it wasn’t even your fault.

“Or because–” 

“Joe.”

A short moment of silence followed.

“Fine,” he whispered, adding, “for now.” on the back-end of a deep breath. 

When you woke up the next morning, you were on Joe’s side of the bed.

“Morning.” Joe smiled, just beyond pleased that he’d gotten his way by moving your unconscious body across the bed in the night.

You gave him the blankest stare you’d ever given someone, which was easy because you’d only just opened your eyes, sleep still causing enough confusion to fully comprehend why Joe seemed to be awaiting a response.

You tutted and rolled your eyes when his expectant smile only grew.

He had rolled your defenseless body over in the night. What the fuck, actually. And this idiot thought he was being all cute. Was reaching over to take your hand into both of his, to pull it to his mouth where he gave it a small kiss.

“You’re such a child.” You pulled your hand from his grasp and turned away from him as you sat up.

“What?” Joe feigned indignancy, his smile too big to sell it to you properly.

“An actual child. This isn’t funny.”

“Oh come on. It’s a little funny.”

You got up and out.

“Babe.”

You ignored him. Walked right past him.

“Baby.”

The first little crack.

“Oh, come on!”

The first little crack of many.

Friday. End of a long day a long week of whirlwind work days and awful nights of sleep. It’s the wrong time of day for this.

“A flat white for…”

Autumn. Rainy, cold weather that your wardrobe’s not caught up to yet. It’s the wrong time of the year for this.

“Joe?”

You can give yourself a stern talking-to later about how most of the day had completely passed you by in a blur, but you hear the words flat white and Joe and are immediately more in tune with the world.

You look up from your phone in the queue to see Joe step forward and take his drink.

“Thanks.”

It takes a slow second for you to realise it’s really him. A slow blinking moment of just looking at him, a tired mind slowly speeding up to real world tempo, before your brain goes, it’s him.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’re too tired for this.

Wrong place, wrong time, entirely wrong headspace.

The second he turns, you make eye contact for the briefest second which prompts him to do a comically exaggerated double take that immediately makes running into each other less awkward. You smile despite your mood.

God, you’d almost forgotten what he’s like.

It’s been a couple of months now, just over half a year, and the hurt has dulled enough that trying to be normal, and civil, and courteous, and polite, and kind shouldn’t be the most difficult thing ever.

That’s your ex-boyfriend.

You hope your face didn’t show how that first millisecond of seeing him struck you, but you saw him before he saw you, so you are probably fine.

That’s your too-kind-to-pretend-to-not-have-seen-you ex-boyfriend. Your somehow-still-really-happy-to-run-into-you ex-boyfriend.

And now you’ve gone and smiled at him, even though pulling up the corners of your mouth feels like exercising at the minute, you need a nap so bad.

You shouldn’t have left work early.

Shouldn’t have decided to go for a large coffee on your way home.

Shouldn’t have looked up.

Shouldn’t have even wanted to check if the flat white was for your Joe.

Correction.

No longer your Joe.

Just Joe.

It’s fine, it’s fine. There’s a whole new person in your life. It’s fine. But it would’ve been lovely if the universe could’ve waited until after you’d drank this large black coffee you are about to order, but of course that’s never how things work.

Stars are against you when it comes to Joe, apparently.

Joe could’ve left it at that. You’d had a moment of oh my god it’s you, what are the odds across a coffee shop and he could have easily waved and left. Have that be the whole interaction. That would have been fine.

But instead, Joe decides to stay, and he communicates with looks for a moment. With facial expressions and gesturing arms.

It’s a wild look around from Joe that tells you, what a weird time and place to see you! and a funny tired shrug from you in reply that tells him, life’s weird, what can I say?

You feel a little proud that you’ve not ignored him. That you’ve not pretended you just didn’t see him only to later contemplate sending him an incredibly lame “was that you getting a flat white this afternoon?” text that you’d regret the very second those ticks would’ve changed colour.

You’re working at 40% brain activity right now, and it’s a little difficult to use your social filter to pretend to feel any other way than you’re actually feeling.

Up until now that meant that your bad mood was everyone else’s problem.

Seeing Joe now, it suddenly means that you can’t pretend that you don’t immediately notice shit like how he isn’t wearing any of his rings. And how he probably wore something that covered his hair earlier today.

Wrong things to focus on, but a tired mind is difficult to keep in its lane.

You see how Joe checks his phone with a thoughtful look before he then nods as he puts it away. He gives you a questioning look as he points down.

You got a minute?

And you do the same; check the time on the phone that’s already in your hand and think of a million excuses to turn him down, but you only have the gym later, and that’s it. When you look back up, you give him a funny nod and a half shrug and you try your best to make your eyes look like you’re properly awake.

Yea why not, go on then.

You’re an adult running into an ex and you said you’d stay friends and you had really truly meant it then, so this is fine.

He looks a little too handsome for his own good, but it’s fine.

Joe waits for you. Hangs around near the bar at the windows and half-sits on one of the stools there, one foot still on the floor, more leaning than actual sitting, with his back towards the windows.

You try not to watch him, but you can’t help but notice the way he lets his eyes scan the room for a minute. The way he looks over his shoulder as his eyes dart across the street.

It occurs to you how quickly the checking you used to do for him stopped after you broke up. After you left his world. It’s a little weird how, here, in the same coffee shop, in the exact same location, you’re in entirely different worlds from each other, and the closer to you get to the end of the counter, the more they overlap.

It’s one of the things you haven’t missed.

When you step into earshot properly, after ordering, you make eye-contact and smile at each other.  

“Hello,” Joe makes his voice go up and down, like he’s just as pleasantly surprised to see you as you do him, but you’re trying to not make it so obvious. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You smile and grab his arm for a second as a hello, rather than going in for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Joe smiles right back, and takes the touch of his arm as enough of an invite to hug you anyway.

You ignore the flicker of worry you see across his face, the slight twitch in his eyebrows, just before his face disappears from your view and all you can really focus on is how Joe smells.

All right.

Jesus.

Joe smells like that little hidden bottle of his old cologne that you still have, and it’s like being transported back into your old life a little. The life that you tried to hold onto with all ten fingernails until they all chipped and broke and bled.

When you step back, Joe smiles all warm, eyes fully fucking focused on you, like he’s glad he can just look at one thing instead of having his attention with all of his surroundings.

Not a hint of worry there now.

God.

You’ve missed him.

Miss him still.

You know that he can see how tired you are. That the slight concern that flashed across his face was only there because of how you weren’t fully opening your eyes after each blink.

“Nice shirt.” You comment, doing your best to keep the ice broken and not let it freeze back over.

Joe looks down at himself and grins wider. He’s wearing a shirt he only got because you said you liked it. Which, you still do.

“Thanks. You look good too.”

Liar.

What follows after warm smiles is warm small talk by the end of the counter until your coffee’s ready. He asks how you’re doing. What you’re up to. Remembers something specific that you had coming up at work ages ago, something that’s now long passed, and Joe wants to know how it went.

“My God. All right, Mister Memory.”

Charmer. He’s basically interviewing you.

“Oh, sorry. Is that weird? I’m being weird. Sorry.”

“A little. But… um…” you have to really think about that for a second. “Yea, all of that went fine.” you guess before your brain finds the right memory and you give him a slightly more certain, “Great, actually. Yea. It was good.”

Joe smiles. Nods. Looks like he’s really fucking pleased for you which is almost funny because you remember a time where your work hours were mostly an inconvenience to him.

“I should be asking what’s going on with you!” you chirp, and Joe just shrugs. Jokes, “Nothing much. Quiet life. Sort of boring, you remember what it’s like.”

You laugh. It’s out of you before you can stop it.

Fuck.

Joe has no business making you feel the way he is right now. You’re tired and in actual need of comfort. It’s dangerous to be around someone who knows how to give you what you want. What you need.

Your coffee gets placed onto the counter, and there’s this awkward moment where you now have your drink and maybe this is the moment where you go, Okay, was good seeing ya, bye! and dart out the door.

But instead, Joe grabs you by the arm and nods towards a table where someone’s packing up. “Come on, let’s sit.”

And just like that, you’re being lead over to go and sit down with him.

You take the biggest gulp of hot coffee before you sit down, definitely burn your tongue, and are already thinking of ways you can explain this to others. What if someone sees you? If someone gets a sneaky pic in?

You’re not doing anything illegal, obviously.

And it’s not like you went to this coffee shop on purpose.

You hadn’t meant to run into Joe.

But now you’re taking your coat off and so is he and you both have hot drinks to warm your hands and Joe pulls in his chair real close and asks you a bunch more questions about work, and your family, and he says he heard you traveled, which you did, and he’s making you laugh, and yea, you’re tired, and you keep suppressing yawns, but the coffee is helping a little, and it’s nice to sit, your limbs are thanking you for it, and Joe is acting like you meet up for coffee all the time, like this is normal, and you almost start believing it, he’s being so friendly and casual, until he suddenly leans over the table, both elbows on the faux marble surface, ducks his head down a little before he says, “Is this the time we... where we talk? About what happened?”

It catches you off guard, a little.

You don’t want to talk about what happened.

You kind of don’t even want to be talking to him at all if you really think about it. Not because you don’t like it. Despite that, actually. It’s lovely talking to Joe. That’s precisely the problem. You didn’t break up with him because you stopped liking him.

The longer you look at him, the more nice things you’re remembering about him. The more you start thinking about what could have been.

So you don’t respond for a moment, and then you give a half-hearted shrug.

“We don’t have to.” you say quietly, almost absently.

There’s not enough brain space available to you right now. This is the type of conversation to have five years down the line, after a long holiday where you’ve managed to catch up on sleep and… you know… when you look well rested. Tanned. Satisfied with life.

Not now.

You could carry all your essentials in your eyebags right now if you really tried, you think.

Joe just smiles at you. Watches you for a moment, head tilted back a little, chin jutted out.

“I mean, is there anything left to say?” You’ve pretty much said all that needs saying. Everything else is implied and doesn’t need to exist in the world, you think.

The two of you didn’t work out because it simply didn’t work out.

Joe seems to disagree.

He twirls his paper cup, his flat white, and raises his eyebrows a little. Makes you hold your breath at what he’s about to say next.

“Weird if I tell you I miss you?” his voice is all soft as he asks you, almost breathy, like he knows the effect it will likely have on you.

You let your head drop to your shoulder and grimace, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh my God,” you blurt out, and you sound like you’re in actual pain.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.” Joe immediately back tracks, but this motherfucker is smiling. Blushing. He makes eye-contact with you as he goes for another sip of his coffee and then looks at his hand placing the cup back down as he adds, “You’re right. No need for me to tell you. So I won’t.”

He’s already said it.

You try your best at hiding a smile as you mirror Joe, going for a sip of your own. When you place yours back on the table, Joe can hear from the hollow sound of it that it’s empty.

“I, em…” you start, hand reaching for the back of your neck where you rub at your skin, a little awkward now that Joe’s said that he misses you. “I should probably go. I’m meeting…ugh, it’s– someone.” You cringe inwardly, try to do it so Joe doesn’t see it. You could’ve lied and said you’d be meeting Emily, but it’s a thought that comes to you after you’ve already been weird about it.

And Joe knows you. He sees you cringe inwardly just fine. Sees you rub at your neck the way you always do when you’re tired. Remembers all the times he used to take over and you’d fall asleep within seconds.

Joe knows that if you’re as tired as you look, there’s no thinking before you speak.

Someone.

Joe nods.

So there’s someone.

He bets this someone doesn’t know shit about how you like the back of your neck massaged, fingers in very specific spots, pressing and rubbing into very specific pressure points.

You resist the urge to rub your eyes. Rub your neck instead.

He sees that too and, in turn, tries to hide the sudden, protective wave that washes over him so you don’t see it.

He’s lucky you’re too worn out to catch his twitching hand that wants to reach out and replace yours.

“Sorry for making it weird.” Joe is still smiling, and you don’t want him to think that what he said is the reason why you’re suddenly done talking to him. You really are meeting someone. That’s not something you made up to round up this interaction.

“No, no. I’ve got–” you check the time, and you have so much of it before you have to be somewhere, but Joe doesn’t need to know that. “I’m meeting someone to go work out with.”

Joe raises both eyebrows and widens his eyes, the playful shock there clearly visible.

“At the gym.” You finish, and you scrunch up your whole face in a full grimace, because you know what he’s going to say.

“At the gym?”

“At the gym.” You confirm, finding your coat whilst your eyes remain in contact with Joe’s.

He sits back, a little baffled. A little… proud.

“She goes to the gym. Wow.”

You hate the gym.

You hate working out in general, but doing it in a gym, indoors, on machines? You really fucking despise it. Still. You’re going. Trying to put your best foot forward in this new relationship you’re trying out with this new person in your life.

Joe knows you hate the gym. He remembers the countless times he’d told you to just come with him. Come work out with him at his gym. He also remembers the countless times you’d told him to fuck off and that you’d rather die.

Something something personal development. Whatever. You’re fucking exhausted but, you’re trying, all right? Progress.

“That reminds me, actually,” you say, struggling to make your arms find the sleeves of your coat. “I still have your pumas.”

You say pumas like it’s meant to be a dig at him.

It is a dig, in your opinion. His old faded Speed Cats, these two feminine looking things. Fucking purple too.

The very second Joe learnt that you didn’t like them, still don’t, he started wearing them extra often.

Little shit.

“Oh my God,” Joe says softly as he huffs a laugh through his nose and closes his eyes for a joyous second. “My pumas.”

“I found them on one of the top shelves of the wardrobe.”

“I…” Joe narrows his eyes at you in suspicion, smile unwavering. “What were they doing there? If I remember correctly, that’s not where I left them.”

You know that’s not where Joe left them. That’s where you left them. Hid them. So he’d be forced to buy new shoes. Different shoes. Which he then did, so, it all worked out fine.

You give an innocent shrug as you get up, slow and sluggish, arms still not in the sleeves of your coat properly.

“No,” you sigh, feeling how bad your legs want you to go and sit back down. “But that’s where I found them.”

Joe laughs heartily and then, like you’re not two people who went through a painful break-up, also gets up and helps you into your coat. Holds it and guides your arms where they’re meant to go. Folds the collar so it sits how its meant to. Lets his hands linger there for a fraction of a second too long, but it’s nice.

It’s nice having Joe close.

“If you’re not doing anything right now,” you start, but stop because you’re already regretting where your mind is taking you.

You want to have Joe close so he can rub the back of your neck when you sleep.

No.

There’s someone else.

You can’t.

Shouldn’t.

“Oh, do you mind?” Joe is quick. Easily takes the step you hesitated to take.

“Well, they’re your pumas.”

You’re not sure how he does it. How he keeps this air of normalcy. Like inviting himself over to your flat to come and pick up a pair of shoes is all casual and fine.

It’s not.

And yet somehow, it is.

The familiarity that’s still there added to the amount of time that’s passed somehow makes this not feel like the wildest thing, even though you know that if you tell Emily that Joe came round to pick up his stinky old trainers, that she’d worriedly ask you if you were okay.  

The worry would be misplaced, because you’re actually totally fine.

You’re fine as Joe leads you from the coffee shop, opening his umbrella and offering an arm for you to link yours through, just so you can share the protection from the rain, no other reason.

You’re fine as Joe doesn’t need to be told where to go, obviously knows where you live and the quickest way to get to it.

You’re fine as Joe says something about the bakery near your flat that he used to go to all the time, and when he looks inside he squeezes his arms to his body in a silent moment of celebration, involuntarily squeezing you closer to him.

You’re fine as he makes you laugh when he pretends to be normal about baked goods, shrugging and clearing his throat and softly murmuring that you didn’t just witness him get excited over coffee cake that he’ll definitely get on his way home.

You’re fine as he keeps you from tripping up because you’re not really lifting your feet enough for your shoes to not get caught on the uneven pavers of the wet London streets you’re braving together.

You’re fine as you make your way into your building, where you share the small space of the lift together, and you lean against one of the side panels and can see in the reflective surface of the doors how Joe’s giving you a soft smile.

You’re fine as you let Joe into your flat, where you leave him momentarily to go get his shoes from your bedroom, and when you come back, he’s discarded his coat over one of your dining room table chairs, has already gone and turned down the thermostat, and is looking at one of your bookshelves near the TV.

“Found ‘em.” you say, holding them up before placing them on the table near his coat.

Joe throws you a look over his shoulder, smiles, but then goes straight back to scanning book spines. Like he doesn’t care about his pumas at all.

“You read this?” he picks up a book, turns around so you can see which one he means as he reads the blurb on the back.

You’re too busy staring at the visual of Joe in your messy living room, wearing the shirt you chose for him, to answer the question.

Too busy letting your eyes focus on his hands that you want in a very specific spot on the back of your neck right now, because your body remembers exactly what that feels like and you’re tired.

“Did you like it?”

Joe is in your living room and… it’s actually not fine.

Joe is wearing a shirt he only got because you liked it, and it’s not fine.

Joe is holding a book and you can see how large his hands are and it's not fine.

Joe confessed that he misses you, and you’re not fine.

Fuck trying to mold yourself into someone that goes to the gym for this new person who pales in comparison to your ex-boyfriend who kept you close and walked you home and who just took off his coat like he’s going to stay for at least a minute and who you can just be yourself around. You don’t have to pretend to care about working out, or about an untidy living room, or about your hair that’s frizzed up from the rain and... isn’t that just lovely?

Your lack of answers eventually makes Joe look up at you, and oh… you look like you’ve fallen asleep standing up, eyes slightly distant and unfocused.

“Hey, you okay?” the book Joe’s holding finds a new home on your coffee table as you blink a couple of times to bring yourself back into reality.

It doesn’t really work.

“Yea… yea, fine.” you say softly, your expression unchanged, eyes still just as glassy.

Joe doesn’t buy it.

Knows you.

Sees how you’re watching his hands. His fingers. Knows exactly what you want.

“You sure?” he steps closer, a little hesitant, because what even really is he doing here? He doesn’t want those ratty old shoes back. He thought those had been thrown out ages ago, well before the two of you got even close to considering not being together as an option.

Joe watches you stare into space for a moment, and sees you blink so slowly, you might as well just keep your eyes closed at this point.

There’s not a chance you’re going to be meeting someone at a gym.

Joe walks across the room until he’s right in front of you, and he stays there until your eyes slowly rake up his body and you’re looking each other in the eye.

He knows what he’s doing here.

You know what he’s doing here.

Joe watches you raise a slow arm up to let your own hand touch the back of your neck as you inhale deeply through your nose.

Joe smells nice.

“Can you, um…” you pause and frown, and let your deep breath escape you in a sigh, not finishing your question as you rub your fingers where you want Joe to rub his.

You don’t need to finish your question.

Joe knows you.

Knows he probably shouldn’t do what he’s about to do, but finds he wants to and so, why the fuck not, you know?

He grins, but only slightly, and uses both his hands. One to remove your own hand from your neck, the other to grab hold of it there, where he pushes his thumb right into the dip at the base of your skull and starts to rub in small circles.

It almost works like an off-button.

Joe knows it does, because it always has.

He has to grab hold of one of your arms to make sure you don’t topple over. He ignores how he feels your whole body shiver.

“You’re not going to the gym.” Joe says gently.

“Mhm,” you hum, not even sure if you’re answering a question or not.

Joe smells so nice. Familiar and comforting and just, lovely.

“I think you’re going straight to bed.”

Joe barely has to guide you. The smallest of pushes just makes you turn and walk straight back over to your bedroom where your wardrobe doors are still open from fetching Joe’s old trainers, and you vaguely think how Joe shouldn’t be in your bedroom with you, but… he is, and so what?

You try undressing with heavy limbs, jeans a little clammy and difficult to take off. You do most of it with your eyes closed and wait for Joe’s hands to come help you out. But they don’t come, and it’s a little confronting how that disappoints you.

It’s something to think about later though.

Joe came over for his shoes and is now just making sure you don’t trip and bash your head on something. That makes sense.  

But then, Joe hands you one of your own folded pyjama tops from one of the drawers and you can’t help but let a tired laugh escape you. You sit down on the edge of your bed and take it from him with dropped shoulders, head hanging to the side as you look up at him.

This is so stupid.

“Sorry,” Joe says a little sheepishly. “I just… remember where you keep things.”

“No, no,” you yawn before you add, “It’s fine.”

It’s not fine.

“I’ve missed you too.”

So stupid.

But again, it’s all something for later. Your leading with your wants right now. Not rational thought.

It’s want that reaches for Joe’s hand after you’ve put your pyjama top on.

It’s want that whispers, “Take your shoes off.”

It’s want that sits and stares at Joe with half-lidded eyes as he undresses until he’s in his underwear.

It’s want that asks if Joe can put his hand back on your neck where he had it before.

It’s want that lets you be scooped up and placed into your own bed, on the wrong side, furthest away from the door.

It’s want that doesn’t give a shit about where you are in your bed, because all you care about is that Joe’s there, and he is there when he climbs into bed right next to you and lays behind you on his side, not entirely big-spooning you, but if he just got a little closer...

Then he softly asks, “Is this okay?” and holds you by the back of the neck again which makes you whine into the pillows.

Joe is allowed any spot in the bed he fucking wants.

“There you go,” Joe says softly, and he suppresses a smile as he feels how you relax.

It’s the wrong place, the wrong time and absolutely the wrong person.

You logically know this.

You’re going to have some explaining to do tomorrow.

You know there’ll be missed calls.

There’ll be hurt feelings.

There’ll be guilt.

You know it’s all wrong, but it’s hard to let your rational mind make smarter decisions when it all feels so stupidly right.

You’re not doing anything illegal.

Joe said he misses you, and it took a little time, but you said it back. You miss him too.

Joe decides to stay awake until you fall asleep, and maybe he’ll take a short little nap himself too before he goes to get himself some coffee cake, he’s not sure yet.

He has to stop himself from shaking his head at the fact that he can tell just by the way you’re breathing if you’ve fully dozed off yet or not.

It shouldn’t take long. You’ve barely been able to focus your eyes on anything from the moment Joe saw you in the queue of that coffee shop.

Just before you drift off, Joe feels how you slowly turn around to face him. How you scoot a little closer. Then two smaller hands find his forearm, and Joe lets you wrap both arms around his bicep. Lets you hug it to yourself, which involuntarily makes his hand rest on one of your bare thighs.

Joe’s hand is warm, and his touch his gentle, and it fucking makes your eyes sting.

There’s something about being in bed with a man that makes you feel safe and protected and like you can actually sleep.

It’s not like that yet with who you’re seeing now. These are the things that take time. Hence how fucking tired you currently are.

Have been all day.

All week.

“Yea,” you suddenly whisper, and it’s so soft, Joe wouldn’t have heard it had he not been so close to you. “Miss you.”

You tighten your arms around Joe’s which makes his chest ache, and finally let sleep take you.

Joe smiles.

You said you miss him.

He knows you do.

Thinks that maybe you don’t have to.

What if there’s a way back?

He’ll find a way back. He knows he can.

“Yea,” Joe repeats, and decides taking a nap in your bed on your side is actually the best fucking idea he’s ever had.

“Miss you too.”

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[dear-ao3]

well good day to all of you. i have a tale. a classified, certified absolute god tier disaster of a tale.

at the ripe hour of 6:45 am i was awoken from my slumber by a Noise. what sort of noise? you might be asking.

the sort of noise that usually accompanies my father getting up at the ass crack of dawn and trying not to turn on the tap loudly so that he doesnt wake us up.

for one blissful moment i thought that i was at home, in my bed, and all was right with the world.

and then i remembered that i live approximately four hours away from my parents and all is not right with the world.

so i did what any person would do. waited for the noise to go away.

but it did not.

so i investigated. in all my bleary eyed glory.

and found that my bathroom ceiling light was pissing.

not just a little either.

a severe, unauthorized amount of water was streaming out of my bathroom light fixture.

so after banging on katyas door and finding a bucket and throwing on a sweatshirt i dragged my tired ass down to the front desk and reported the tea as it were.

now one thing you need to know about our building is that it is old. the second thing you need to know about our building is that the maitenance guys (we call them the boys) are absolutely incredible, like tumblr funny guy posts but irl, however they take for fucking ever to respond to any situation.

this time though, nothing was in clear danger of exploding or lighting on fire. so we made some breakfast. drank some coffee. watched the bucket that we had put in the bathroom fill up with water. and we waited.

and waited.

and waited some more.

then i noticed that if you stepped on some of our kitchen floor tiles they started squelching.

so back downstairs i went and explained the tea as it were once again.

and let it be known, that i worked for two very solid and very miserable years as a resident assistant in college. i know all about the woes of people complaining to you to fix things that you cannot fix and you cannot tell them when it will be fixed because the person who needs to do the fixing is otherwise indisposed. so my general attitude towards this whole situation was "hey man you can't make this better for me and im really not pressed about it as long as someone eventually comes and sorts out my pissing ceiling." which is a great attitude to have in this general situation. and especially so because it was about to get even more strange.

at approximately 9:30am our apartment was graced by the presence of one of the boys. the maintenance man. we will call him james.

we have encountered james before. he delt with our fuse box nearly exploding. that situation was not nearly as chill as this one was.

hes also incredible.

so he comes in and he goes "hey how's it going" and i say "well you know things are just leaking!"

he proceeds to tell us that the fridge in the apartment above us had a connection pipe that froze and exploded some how and that managed to leak all into our apartment. not nearly what i was expecting but hey! at least they know what's going on!

we tell him about the squelching tiles and he says that he will bring us a dehumidifier after he turns off the water and deals with the mess of the fridge above us. we say ok great! this is wonderful!

and he goes to leave the apartment. out of habit i had locked the door when he entered. he goes "aw man did you lock me in?"

and i say

"oh sorry!"

and he pauses.

and he looks at our door in disbelief. perhaps even utter horror.

and this, my lovely audience, is what he was looking at:

surprisingly. he was not staring at the entertainment for man and horse plaque that katya and i found while thrifting. nay. he was staring at the unfortunate combination of the printed photo of lando norris and max verstappens face.

now why are lando norris and ax verstappen on the back of my door? you might be asking. you might even be asking who they are.

and if youve been following the lore of this blog, you might recognize them as formula 1 drivers. lando norris of course being a mclaren driver and max verstappen being the reigning world champion of team red bull.

and how did they wind up on my door? well at christmas katya thought it would be funny to put a picture of lando norris on top of our christmas tree and so we got one printed at cvs but when you get wallet sized photos printed they print you four of them so we ended up with four of the same photo of lando. one went on the tree, one went to my sister, one is in our bathroom and now one is on the back of our door.

as for max. well. katyas partner drinks red bull and he was on the red bull box so we cut him out and stuck him there. neither of us are particularly big max fans, it was just funny.

but anyway. i digress.

james is standing there staring at this array of perplexing stuff and goes.

"really? him??"

and i go

"yeah..." not knowing what else to say.

and james turns. and he looks at us. and he goes. and i shit you the absolute fuck not.

"now what's wrong with lewis hamilton???"

(sir lewis hamilton being the mercedes f1 driver, 7 time world champion and absolute icon)

and katya and i go

"oh no no! we love lewis hamilton! we just respect him too much to put him on the door!"

which is true

and james goes "now what did you think of him going to ferrari?"

and i say "i thought it was an interesting choice"

and katya says "i was surprised."

and james says "you and me both" and then he shuts the door behind him.

katya and i look at eachother. and we both fall to the floor in fits of laughter.

let it be known that james has come face to face with a giant tapestry of mr worldwide mr 305 pitbull himself that is in our bathroom, on several occasions, and yet, he chooses to comment on our choice of formula 1 driver that is taped to the back of our door.

im still in a state of disbelief. my ceiling is still pissing. my floor is still squelching. and my maintenance man felt the need to call our my choice of formula 1 driver at 9:30 on a saturday morning.

[myosotisa]

Us versus Them - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

‖  summary: You made the mistake of telling your boyfriend Eddie you were having trouble using one of your toys because it was too strong. He's determined to help.

‖  notes: smut, it's porn without plot, graphic sexual content. 'sir' kink, rope bondage, overstimulation, sex toy use, spitting, slapping (face and body), choking, degradation (slut, whore, etc.), praise, unprotected p in v, implied creampie, implied squirting, mean!Dom!Eddie (with aftercare). it's messy y'all, let me know if i missed anything.

‖  word count: 2.6k

‖  this was written for @ghost-proofbaby because i said i would use all her kinks against her and this is my attempt. so here you go, babe. thanks to @fracturedarkness, @blue-mossbird, and @abibliophobiaa for proofreading and helping me write the ending. enjoy!

“If you don’t stop pulling on the rope it’s gonna break your skin, baby. Maybe I should get you some nice padded cuffs so you can struggle all you want without hurting yourself. But we can’t do that right now so,” the only warning you receive is the meat of Eddie’s palm touching your inner thigh, lining up the shot, punctuating the next 3 words with harsh slaps, “stop fucking squirming.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry! It’s just so, so much,” your voice breaks into a croak at the end, catching on the end of the sentence as your back arches away from the toy that Eddie holds relentlessly to your clit. He tied you up what felt like hours ago and has barely given you a chance to fucking breathe since he’d gotten the Rose Toy in his hand.

He pushes up onto all fours, moving from his prime viewing angle between your quivering legs to hover over your tear stained and flushed pink face. “Poor baby,” he coos in a mocking tone, his free hand running knuckles down your sweating cheek. “Too sensitive for her new toy. I told you I was gonna help you, didn’t I? Told you I was gonna tie you up and get you used to it, didn’t I?” The relentless buzz sends your eyelids fluttering again, a whimper crawling its way out of your throat as you try to process what he’d asked you. 

The next slap hits you across the cheek, lighter than the smacks on your thighs, but still harsh enough that your eyes shoot back open and your cracked lips break apart in a gasp. Eddie’s thumb and forefinger press into your cheeks on either side, locking your jaw wide as he leans in even closer. Reeling back an inch, he spits hard into your open mouth, hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex. “I asked you a question, dumb whore.”

“You did,” you mumble out through the way he grips your jaw, struggling to swallow the thick saliva that pools in the back of your throat from yourself and him. “You told me, Eddie.”

“There we go, now was that so hard?” He asks, eyebrows raising to let you know he does expect an answer. You shake your head the best you can given his hold and he rewards you with removing his hand and the press of a button, making the vibration swap from a constant swirl to a pulsing vibration that you feel from your scalp to your toes.

“Edd-ie!” You keen, your back bowing as your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensation. He’d learned that if he left it on one setting for a long enough period of time, it would start to lose potency, almost like a numbness, which made swapping the pattern that much more powerful.

“Eddie!” He parrots back to you in a high pitched tone. “Aw baby, you’re drooling all over your chin. Messy girl.”

Eyebrows pinching tight together, a broken moan echoes out into the room as your pussy clenches down hard on nothing. “Please, sir, it hurts.”

“You can’t handle it? It hurts?” His voice pitches up in a taunt, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard, tears spilling out from the corner of your eyes as you nod. “That’s a shame baby. Because I need you to squirt all over your pretty blue bed sheets before we’re done.” The idea of needing to hold back in order to achieve that has you whimpering in the back of your throat – your last 3 orgasms had torn out of you like wild animals.

“I can’t – I can’t do it, Eddie. I can’t,” you babble, the words stuck on your tongue like a skipping record as your hazy and sluggish brain tries to make sense of anything.

A ringed hand grips your throat, not cutting off air or blood flow, but with enough pressure to pin you down and make you really feel it. There’s an absolute inferno of lust in his eyes, pupils blown out in an oil fire that shows no signs of stopping any time soon.

“You can, and you will.” His command is deep gravel, sending an electric shiver down your spine. “Don't be ungrateful baby, you take what I give you, understand?”

A sob tears from your throat, tears falling freely as your thighs clamp down on Eddie’s hand and the toy it holds. But you don’t answer fast enough, Eddie’s other hand tightening on either side of your neck to stamp the blood flow to your brain. “You really have lost all your manners, haven’t you, sweetheart? Not a single brain cell in that whole noggin’.” He lets go quickly after, huffing a little laugh at how you suck in air, and then flicks your temple with his middle finger. “Just a stupid slut that can’t think of anything other than how much you want to be filled up.”

The idea of some kind of stimulation other than the Rose has you begging before you can even second guess it. “Please, please sir, want to be filled up so bad. Want your fingers or your cock or your tongue, please, just anything.”

“Anything, huh?” He asks, manic gilt in his eye as his plump lips spread in a sharp grin. “Anything at all?”

“No, no no no no, please, want you Eddie! Want you inside me, please!” You know he would comply maliciously to your request unless you scrambled your thoughts together enough to make a more specific one. Attention wavering from your own body to him as you try to ignore the pressure building in your abdomen for the who knows how many-th time.

“Sounds so pretty, baby,” his sharp grin goes soft, just a bit of teeth behind bitten red lips. “Beg for it again. Better this time.”

The vibrator switches patterns on cue.

“Please!” Comes out as a screech, a burn crawling down your vocal chords that you know you’ll be feeling tomorrow. “Please, sir, want you to fuck me so bad. Want your cock, want your cum insi-ide me. Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

A whispered “fuck,” is the first sign you get that Eddie’s resolve is crumbling. It has you gasping out, fingers twisting in the rope that still binds you to the headboard in anticipation. Whenever he got like this, wanting to bring you to tears and desperation more than anything else, it was hard to get him to change his mind. But once the first pillar cracked, betraying his carefully curated domineering persona, it was a short matter of time until all that remained was splinters.

His free hand flies to his belt, fumbling fingers trying to pull it loose. “Okay, baby, I hear you. I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want, okay?” You nod harshly, a full body shiver coasting through you as another moan hits the air. Then a sharp pinch on your inner thigh has you yelping. “I said, okay?”

“Okay, yes, yes, whatever you want,” you rush out, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to not halt the progress of getting this adventure to finally be over, “I’ll do anything.”

“Good girl,” he hits a little love tap right where he pinched, sending another shock straight to your cunt, before he goes back to yanking his belt free. It takes an awkwardly long time for him to do with one hand but you know better than to tease him for it now. You just wait as patiently as you can while he undoes his fly and shimmies his pants and boxers down just low enough for his fat cock to hit the air. Just the sight of it, skin tinted with an angry red and pearly white pre-cum pooled in the foreskin that covers the tip, has your toes curling and your thighs tensing. All you can do is watch as he wraps his long-fingered hand around the top of it, easing the skin back so he can spread the substance down his shaft, a shaky exhale leaving him as he pumps his fist a few times before tilting his hips down toward you.

Realizing he’s going to fuck you fully dressed while you lie naked on your bed has your breath catching again before you even feel the hot mushroom head of him press into you below where the Rose still buzzes relentlessly. “Fuck! Baby, you’re so wet – shit, so fucking t-tight.” He stutters out, clearly affected as he starts to feed inch after inch of his hard cock into your fluttering cunt with a hand gripping the base to stop him from finishing before he can even get all the way inside.

The feeling of him splitting you open, how your own slick pushes its way out of you in rivulets as he bullies his way inside almost threatens to undo you immediately. Your gasp comes out as a croak, your eyebrows drawing tight together in near agony as he bottoms out.

“Sh-shit. Baby, I’m not gonna last. I can-” he cuts off with a groan as you clench down on his length when the vibrations come back to the forefront of your attention. “Can feel the vibe. Feel how close you are.”

“Eddie, please,” you whimper, fingernails digging into your palms as you lose the only control of yourself that you had left when he starts to pull back. He rears back only a scarce inch or two before his hips rush back forward, lips parting soundlessly as his face contorts in feeling. You prepare for the onslaught but curse loudly when he pulls all the way out, leaving you feeling even more empty and bereft than before. Before you can openly question it, he grips your leg and folds it back, knee towards the bedside table, and wedges himself beneath your hips and the bed. He reaches over and hitches your other leg up similarly, using the elbow of the arm that is still wedged between your legs to keep it in place.

Hips tipped up, he forces himself back inside your awaiting hole without warning. Positioned like this, he rubs directly up against the spot on the front wall of your cunt that has you seeing stars and trying not to scream. “There she is,” he sighs out, a satisfied smile gracing his face when he sees your eyes roll back. His hand goes back to gripping the underside of your thigh, pressing the fold deeper as he grinds down into you. “Now we’re giving her what she wants, isn’t that right?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your pussy and that knowledge sends you spinning, barely keeping afloat as he begins to fuck into you in earnest. “Fuck, baby, never gets old,” the rough material of his jeans rubs against your ass, the metallic clatter of his belt slapping the sides of your thighs each time he bottoms out. “Like this pussy was made for me.”

“Yours,” you manage to squeak out, trying to focus on the way his cock splits you apart instead of the numbing pain of the Rose that still swirls against your overstimulated clit. “Yours, yours, yours.”

“That’s right,” a throaty laugh rumbles through him as he looks down to where the two of you are connected, “my pretty pussy that’s gonna gush all over me, just like I asked.” The vibrator swaps patterns again, the new one way past too much for you, and you can’t stop the scream that forces itself out of your dropped jaw. Eddie groans above you, feeling both the new vibration and how strongly your muscles clench around him as it reacts to the stimulation. “Can feel you, my little slut.” His fingers dig into the meat on the underside of your quivering thighs as he settles into a bruising pace. “You gonna give me what I want? Gonna soak my cock, make a mess of your pretty sheets?”

“Eddie!” Is the only response you have to offer as your eyes pinch closed, trying to focus on letting the pressure within you build beneath the pain of the overstimulation.

“Right here, baby,” he confirms, cold rings rubbing along your thigh to soothe you, “I’ve got you. Just gotta give it to me, sweetheart. Give me what I want. Make a mess.”

The wet squelch of your pussy is obscene as you squeak out an exhale each time he drives home, pressure tipping higher and higher until your fingers, toes, and lips go numb. “E- euh,” you try to get out his name, let him know you’re going to come, that you’re going to give him what he wants, but all you can do is moan out. Loud and long, voice pitching up as his satisfied grin returns again. It only takes a few more rolls of his hips against yours, the curls at the base of his cock flattened wet with your own slick, before you lose yourself entirely.

Vision whiting out, back bowing, muscles in your body clenching tight as all sensation centers around your bullied cunt and then explodes outwards in a rush of endorphins you simply cannot feel. If there was ever a moment that you would describe as ‘leaving the Earth’ it would be this one – and in the overwhelm of that rush, you abandon the ground, floating up amongst the stars until all goes dark.

Did so good for me, sweetheart.

So pretty, so perfect.

Come back to me, baby. Nice and easy.

When your eyes blink back open again, all you can see is the side of Eddie’s head, his hair tucked behind his ear. He’s looking down your body, and as you follow his gaze, the feeling returns to between your legs, where he is carefully wiping you clean with a warm, wet cloth. You're unable to stop the whimper from coming out as you instinctively twitch away from the gentle touch. His big, brown eyes shoot to yours at the movement, pulling the soft cloth away from your sensitive skin. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. I’m almost done. Doing so good.”

Nullified by his praise, you grit your teeth and bare it as he does 2 more soft swipes across your swollen folds and then tosses the rag back toward your bathroom with a wet slap. “Okay, now some water.” A hand tucked behind your shoulder to lift just your head off the mattress, a cold glass of water presses to your dry lips. You take a few grateful gulps before pushing back against his hand to let him know you're done. Not wanting to push you to drink more, he sets the glass down on the bedside table and reaches for your hand, gripping the tender skin of your wrist between his own fingers and pressing a kiss to the marks the rope left behind. “What else do you need, anything?”

Swallowing hard to attempt to find your words for the first time, you shake your head. “Just you, Eddie. Just you.”

- - -

Sneaking back into your shared apartment a few weeks later, you’re careful not to let the plastic bag in your grip make too much noise as you run as quietly as you can to the bedroom. 

Your new purchase is a bit different than the toys you and Eddie have played with so far, but your excitement is almost beyond measure.

After all, payback is a bitch. And it’s you versus him.

.

.

.

.

.

let me know if you enjoyed, thanks for reading :)

[livwritesstuff]

thinking about this again so here's a part 2

Eddie wakes up to rain. Heavy rain, the kind that keeps the morning sky dark and bounces loud off the roof and the walls and the windows.

The rain didn't wake Eddie up. What did it was a pair of big, warm arms wrapping around him and pulling him in close.

Steve’s arms.

Objectively, this should be a good thing, and past versions of Eddie (even twenty-four-hours-ago-Eddie) would be goddamn irate with him for feeling anything other than vehemently positive about it.

He’s feeling bothered. He’d gone to sleep last night feeling bothered because Steve had sacked out approximately three seconds after they’d hooked up for the first time, and now he’s being woken up by Steve’s big arms pulling him in close and that has Eddie feeling bothered all over again because this isn’t how he thought this would go at all.

“G’mornin’ Eds,” Steve mumbles, the remnants of sleep in his voice.

And then he has the audacity to press a soft kiss onto Eddie’s bare shoulder.

"Y'know," Steve says, "I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the diner this morning, but…sounds like it’s kinda fuckin’ gross out there. I can make us something if you want.”

Eddie sits up, suddenly feeling like he’s been left outta the loop on some part of this because Steve doesn’t even seem surprised to wake up and find Eddie still in his bed.

If there’s anything Eddie hates more than feeling bothered, it’s feeling like he’s left outta the loop, like there’s a piece of all this that he’s missing.

"Uh, what are we doing here, Steve?" Eddie asks, and he regrets it the second he sees Steve's face turn all hurt and confused.

"I don't —" Steve starts, pushing himself up on his elbow into a half-seated position, "What...what are you talking about?"

And isn't that choice of words just completely ironic?

"Oh, now you're interested in talking? Or are you gonna fall back asleep the second I start to-"

"Wait –" Steve interrupts, his eyebrows furrowed, "Are you all pissed off because I fell asleep?"

"I'm not pissed off," Eddie mutters, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of the sheets.

"What the fuck did you want me to do?" Steve argues, "Break out a deck of cards and suggest a round of poker? It was late! I was tired! I don't know how else to say it, man. You, like — you did a good job. Really had me beat, or whatever."

And, sure, Eddie allows himself to sit with that notion for a second before he shakes his head.

"I needed you to talk to me!” he exclaims, "We fucked, and then you fell asleep, Steve! Like it was just a fuckin' hook-up to you or something."

That confused look is back on Steve's face, but instead of being laced with hurt, this time it's just plain bewildered.

"What — Eddie," he says, "We talked."

Huh?

“Huh?”

“We talked,” Steve repeats, “Before we…you know, and I said that I like you and I said that I’m not really into the casual thing anymore, and you seemed pretty on board with all that, man, I dunno.”

And yeah, sure, Eddie sort of remembers that.

He definitely remembers when Steve pressed him against his closed bedroom door, and maybe he’d also been speaking at the time, but they’d been so close together and Steve had kept doing these little glances down at Eddie’s lips and there’d been this intensity in his eyes and Eddie had been pressed against Steve Harrington’s closed bedroom door.

There hadn’t been a single coherent thought in his brain, obviously, and yes, that included comprehending any of those words Steve might have been speaking so everything that had come out of Eddie’s mouth in response had been yes, yep, uh-huh, you betcha.

Eddie feels heat rising in his cheeks and by the looks of the amused smile making a home on Steve’s face, he’s not blind to what Eddie is currently realizing either.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, “I’m a fucking idiot.”

"Maybe," Steve allows even as he starts to pull Eddie back into his arms, "Breakfast?"

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octaves lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[mysterycitrus]

[a roy pov companion snippet to persephone part two]

There was a time, just after his father’s death, when Roy would fall into fits of choking suffocation.

His throat would close, his mouth turning itchy and hot and tight and he’d gasp and claw at his own flesh, desperate for air. Wheezing, bent over on all fours, struggling to breathe and desperate for relief, swallowing around that phantom smoke in his lungs that clung to him and refused to leave.

Brave Bow would find him in the dirt, press a calloused hand to his forehead and brush his hair from his eyes. He’d had the same hands as Roy’s father, then – steady from years fletching arrows.

Calm, boy, he’d say. The fire is gone, and you remain. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

It’d taken years before Roy felt it again, crouched with a needle in his arm and Oliver Queen’s shadow casting him in darkness. That same, encompassing squeeze that pushed his organs taut against his bones, stretched like taffy and drawing all air from his body. It’d been Dinah there with him, that time. Different callouses, with that same tender gentleness.

Then, Jade. Lian. Ollie. Donna. His comfort changed shape, and he learnt to drag himself out of the fire by himself, breathing around the fist in his mouth. The feeling became familiar, and so did the way it would leave him trembling and skittish. In and out. Inhale, exhale. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

Now, he’s sitting on a rooftop in Queens, and the smoke has returned to drown his best friend, because Dick Grayson believes there is evil in him. That all the good he’s done is poisonous. That he bears the burden of a grown man’s mistakes. Because – because Bruce Wayne couldn’t let one good fucking thing in the world lie.

He carries through the motions, watching himself from outside his own body as Dick thrashes, refuses to breathe until Donna physically compresses his lungs for him, forcing him to inhale. His heart is beating so fast it’s as if it’s not beating at all.

Never in his life has Roy wanted to kill someone more.

Donna is staring bullets into the side of his head as they descend into Dick’s apartment, holding him with a tight grip. Dick, younger Dick, seventeen-year-old hurt and miserable and alone Dick, stays silent but his eyes flutter like he’s about to pass out. The bruise on his face has only darkened in the hours since they left Jason Todd’s apartment, and the yellow spots on his cheekbone have started to purple. The bags beneath his eyes are deep.

How did I never notice he was like this? Roy thinks, half incredulous at himself. How did we let this happen that first time?

There was an answer, but it was for an older Dick who still carried all his cards to his chest. Would they be forgiven when that Dick found out what they knew about him? How they knew him now, better than they had before?

Garth, bless him, is holding a performatively casual pose as they gently push Dick through the open window. The soup is in a bowl – the slightly misshapen one that’d been Damian’s first try with a kiln – and Garth looks at him, then the soup, and pivots to start the kettle instead. What Dick really needs is solids, and maybe some protein, Roy knows, but the chances of him just throwing it back up again are high.

“Garth,” Roy says, and Garth turns those big, glistening eyes at him. It’s like staring into a lava lamp. “I’m sorry, but nobody wants any fucking soup.” Then he risks putting his hands on Dick’s shoulders – the kid doesn’t flinch, thank God – and says: “You, stay there. I need to go put my head in the shower.”

He presses down gently until Dick sits on the couch, carefully avoiding Donna’s gaze as she tries to catch his eye and rubs his hands over his face. Inhale, exhale. The smoke thickens, twists, chokes. Roy tilts a little but manages to regain his balance, and passes Donna as she goes to Garth, still fretting in the kitchen. Trusting, finally, that Dick wasn’t going to bolt right this second, he walks out towards the bathroom and immediately collides with Wally.

Wally’s still buzzing a little, and the hairs on Roy’s arms stand on end as he’s zapped when Wally grabs his elbows to hold him upright. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows, but when he looks up over Roy’s shoulders at Dick, his face goes slack. This worked out, actually. It’d keep help keep them both occupied to talk out their feelings, until Roy could get back in control of himself.

“Easy, fleetfeet,” Roy says. “Babysit for a second, would you? I need to wash my face.”

“I thought we decided we didn’t want him to run,” Wally hisses back, but Roy just gives him a shove in the couch’s general direction and staggers down the hall.

He hears Wally move forward as he manages to kick the door shut, falling against it as he starts to gasp. Roy presses his head back against the tiles, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately inhaling in through his nose and out his mouth. His throat itches. A throbbing pain starts at his temple, beating with his heart and radiating to his jaw and neck and shoulders until he tenses into a spasm.

In, out. Breathe, hold, release. Roy manages to swallow, but the noise he makes sounds like a sob, and he fumbles with the faucet until he can trust that the water is drowning him out. Again, and he claps a hand over his mouth. Everything feels ready to snap.

He got through it that first time, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Connor’s patient grace. Remember? He’s still here, just the same.

But this is so much worse, Roy replies internally. Can’t you see? Because now he knows it’s not gonna end. It’ll never end.

No. This is too much.

The first time he grabs at his phone, it falls from his trembling fingers and lands on the floor with a crack. It takes him one, two more tries to retrieve it, and instead of standing he folds himself onto the floor, sat pressed against the wall next to the basin. The blue light makes his eyes sting and seeing Lian smiling back just makes that rolling nausea return, thinking of a young Dick Grayson stare at his daughter in wonder. Eight years old, like Dick’s own father hadn’t fallen when Dick was that age. Like Dick had lost a father all over again a decade later. It hurts so bad.

Thankfully, when he swipes through his speed dial, she answers.

“You’re late with an update, boyo.”

For a moment, he can’t even get the words out, just audibly breathes into the receiver with his eyes shut and his free hand twisted into his hair.

“Roy? What happened? Is Dick alright?”

He has to swallow around the lump in his throat again.

“Is Lian there?” Roy manages to get out in a croak. He truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if Mia’s taken her to MOMA or something. Maybe permanently move into Dick’s bathroom. “She free to talk?”

“Sure.” He hears Dinah move and begin to walk. She’s calm, but her steps are quick and loud down the line. “Give me an answer, Roy. If you want to talk to her because you’re bleeding out-“

“No, no,” Roy says. “No, it’s just – it’s been a long day.”

It’s only about twelve pm, but Dinah doesn’t comment on it. He hears a door open, then shut. His heartrate picks up again.

“Dinah,” he says, and he hears her stop. “Dinah.”

She knows, clearly.

“He’s seventeen, Dinah.”

“Yeah, Babs said.” A pause. “Seventeen, huh?”

“He’s…” Roy stops, tugs at his hair a little. “I can’t tell you –he’s been saying-”

“You were all kids. You know that right? The stuff you were doing wasn’t normal, in retrospect. Makes sense he’d freak you out.”

But it’s not just that. It was the casual acceptance of baiting Deathstroke. Dick’s conviction of his own fault about losing Robin. His terror of confronting Bruce. The profound, absolute loss of everything. Dick Grayson lost his father at eight years old.

Roy can’t reply to that, really, so Dinah says:

“Here she is.”

There’s a shuffle, another pause, then –

“Daddy?”

The tension leaves his body so fast he almost drops the phone entirely, and his legs properly unfold into a sprawl.

“Hey, princess.”

“You okay?” Her voice raises in pitch slightly, like when she’s getting nervous. He’d put a lot of effort into stopping her from sounding like that, so it’s jarring now. “Dinah said… Dinah said-“

“I’m fine. Really. I just wanted to check that Mia wasn’t buying you more Legos from the giftshop with my card.”

“They were mermaid Legos,” Lian tells him, worry gone entirely and now a little huffy. “And Mia said – Mia said you were a landlord. And could buy them.”

“Daddy is not a gazillionaire like Batman.”

“Does Batman have Legos in the Batcave?”

Batman has bloodied memorabilia of all the people he’s let down, Roy thinks privately, but says instead:

“No, but he has a dinosaur.”

“A real one?”

“No. It’s like the one’s out of Jurassic Park. A robot dinosaur.”

“A robot dinosaur,” Lian says rapturously. “Can we visit sometime? With Uncle Dick?”

I am never letting either of you near him ever again, is the correct answer, as much as Dick would throw a fit over it. Roy clears his throat, rubs at his eyes, and changes the subject.

“Maybe. But I want a school update. I didn’t get to talk to you about it, yesterday.”

“Well,” she stops, and he can hear her think it over. “I’m better at spelling than Cassidy, because she always forgets her ayches. But I taught her a trick for it. I can teach you too!”

My best friend was only eight, he thinks.

“Yeah, baby,” he says in a hoarse voice, and tilts back his head. “Tell me all about it.”

[s-4pphics]

click! 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 5.7k 

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep, all ocs r black coded, crack, alcohol, arguments, more slut-shaming, bullying, disordered eating, brief mentions of sexual harassment/assault, sex for like a second, failed orgasms, masturbation, slight exhibitionism 

one. three. four.

A/N: heyyyyy…. how yall doin🤭🤭 a little something before i go back to work kms 

“So, lemme get this straight,” Abby pinches a lollipop stick between her fingers like it’s a blunt, adjusting the invisible glasses on her face, “The psycho just barged in?” 

“With all of her shit! Didn’t even bother to say good morning or anything!” 

It’s been hours since the squash-loving hermit took refuge in your home, and you’re sizzling with rage as you recall the events from earlier. You clocked out zoomed to Abby’s building in no time. 

“Damn… why didn’t you call security… or the landlord? She can’t just move in without signing the contract.” 

You pace around Abby’s rug-covered space, “Bitch, I don’t fuck with feds and rent’s due in two days!” You holler, “And she did sign the contract! I haven’t signed it yet because I didn’t know she was gonna show up and act like that. You’re not disrespecting me in my own house.” 

Her head shakes, “What’d I tell you? If it were me… we wouldn’t have any problems.” 

You point a scolding finger at the smirking blonde girl, “Yes, we fucking would. Don’t start.” 

But she presses anyway, “I think we’d be a match made in heaven, actually.” She rises from the couch and hovers over you, the tip of your index connecting with her strong, covered chest. Your glare persists, but there’s warmth pulling in your gut from her scent. 

Your skin is flaming; This is why you’ll never be able to have a serious conversation — or anything, for that matter — with Abby. Her raunchy remedies aren’t going to work in this situation; You’re too stressed. 

“But anyway,” Her brow arches and she backs off. Slightly. “You’re an adult and main tenant. You gotta handle it soon.” She ponders for a moment, “But to be fair, you texted her first.” 

“How many times do I have to say that I was lit as fuck! I don’t even remember— “

Abby’s taunting expression makes you pause, nails digging into the skin of your palms. 

“Don’t.”

Your hiss makes her snort, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not funny.” 

Abby knows you and Dina’s history better than anyone. Knows exactly how you got caught up in “situationship” nonsense, all with liquor and a phone. You can’t fault Abby for recognizing the familiarity, but a burning sting rests in your chest. Embarrassment spreads all over your cheeks, and you announce your departure in a rush. 

Her regret is evident in the way she calls out for you, but you’re out the door in seconds, slamming it as hard as the frame can hold. 

The winter air hits your eyes first… You try to convince yourself, hastily wiping the wet trails off your face. You’re not fucking crying over Dina. Not again. 

You snatch your phone from your pocket to ask Amaya for advice, but your heart swells when you see her messages. 

You think back to all the times she’s coddled you through your emotions: she drops everything to tend to your needs, no matter how big or small. Guilt would put you in the ground if she ruins her opportunity for your convenience; You can’t tell her. She deserves to enjoy herself. You match your best friend’s excitement all the way back to your car.

Abby called twice during the drive back home, but you didn’t answer. You know she wasn’t being malicious, but you’re sensitive, especially when it comes to anything related to Dina. 

You rip your apartment door open and find Ellie lounging on your fucking couch with Love Island playing from her laptop. And eating peanuts… with Chick-Fil-A ranch? 

You slam her device shut, words sharp as nails, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m telling you right now, you’re not fucking staying here.” You’re shredding through skin with your glare, but she’s not reacting. Just sitting there and crunching, eyes void. 

“Don’t even think about unpacking. You’re getting out tonight, I can promise you that.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“What.”

She merely shrugs, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“What the fuck— “

More cracked shells, more munching; Your eyelid is jerking. 

“Rent’s on the counter, by the way.” 

You hold back a scoff before marching into the kitchen, eyeing the envelope labeled fake ass mortgage. You hear the contestants from the reality show resume their dialogue, but you’re locked on how thick the letter looks to bother scolding. 

It’s torn open… and filled with hundred-dollar bills. Way more than half of rent. Ellie might’ve covered the heat bill for the rest of winter. 

“I thought you were a fucking photographer.” The shock in your voice is clear as day, mindlessly returning to the living room. 

“I am.” She calls dryly. 

“No, you’re not.” You toss the money on the coffee table. “The fuck do you do on the side? Sell drugs to freshmen?” 

“Sure.” 

When your arms cross over your chest with an accusatory stare, she sighs. “I told you. I take pictures.” 

“Of who? The fucking councilman?” 

Another shrug. “Whoever asks. It’s how I make money…” A light pause. “At least until I secure this job.” 

You squint at her, “I thought you got evicted. You’re clearly fit to pay rent on your own.” 

That seems to shake her a little, staring back with hardened eyes, “And who the fuck are you to question me? The reason I’m here is because of you!” 

“Exactly! This...” Arms waving around the living room. “…is my fucking space! You’re a straggler at best.” 

A weighted huff escapes her before she tosses her snack on the table and stands, leaning over the table. 

“You would’ve been in the same position as me if I didn’t show up. No where to fucking go,” She spits. “If you want me gone, fine. But when your landlord comes knocking on your fucking door asking why you’re two weeks late, don’t say shit to me.” 

You waver slightly and she notices, smirk darker than her pupils. You’re steaming; Smoke is going to come out of your ears soon. 

“The same goes for you. I don’t wanna hear your fucking voice, and don’t touch anything that I paid for,” You command, “Don’t even breathe in my space. Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” 

A condescending grin plasters onto her face. 

“Where’d you hide that lease?” 

Your heart is too weak for hatred… or so you thought. 

Abby, Amaya… everyone you’ve fucking talked to about the bitch right across the hall thinks that she’s dangerous and sick and out for blood. 

They’re all wrong. It’s you. 

Ellie is conjuring up something villainous deep inside you; Her childish antics started off small: bumping against the wall in the middle of the night, leaving her dirty ass shoes out of place by the front door, not laying the rugs that she slipped on flat… Incredibly annoying, but fixable. 

You took the time to construct a new roommate agreement that fit your unique situation the morning after your argument. It was sloppily scribbled on a crumpled piece of construction paper, but it was a symbol of peace. You taped it to her door before you left for your shift, only to return and see it ripped up and scattered in front of your door. 

It’s been five days since then. Five, and you can already feel a bald spot forming at the back of your skull. To think that Ellie was your first option as a roommate just days ago is laughable now. You know that none of the tricks she’s pulling are accidental. You pride yourself in being observant, and you always catch that prideful look on her face when she nails one of your peeves. 

You try to be here when Ellie’s not, but she’s always home when you are. Music blasting in the wee hours of the night knowing you have three upcoming shifts to cover, on the couch rewatching the same episode of Love Island over and over while you make your breakfast, pretending to talk on the phone to friends she doesn’t have as loudly as possible. You’re fucking tired and you’re holding your hand back from slapping her. 

But the worst part is that she’s stocked your fridge with fucking squash. Top to bottom in all colors there is. Filled the drawers with one called cucurbita argyrosperma. You were torn between curling in hysterics and beating it over your new roommate's head; The petty side of your brain wishes that you were allergic so you could “accidentally” eat some, die, and get her locked up, but you hushed it. She’s fucking with you, but rent and some bills are paid for the month. What a sick turn of events. 

You’re plotting, though. Something’s brewing, and Abby’s helping you. It��s finally Saturday, and college kids are fiending for a rager. 

The only quality that you respect about Ellie is that she’s clean. She washes her dishes, does her laundry (separate from yours, thank God), and she’s deep-cleaned the bathroom twice already. Ellie despises large messes more than you, though, since you’re willing to sacrifice your tidy abode to piss her off. Let the ruckus in!

You heard her leave early this morning, and you’ve noticed that when she’s gone, she’s gone, which gives you all the time to plan. You skip to the bathroom like a kid in a candy store, showering, brushing your teeth, doing skincare. You whip up the hardiest breakfast you can before your mall venture with Abby; It’s been days since you’ve last nutted, and you need a new vibrator. And new paintbrushes. 

“… Why haven’t you beat her ass again?” 

It only took Abby buying food for you to forgive her. You slurp down your strawberry milkshake, “Fear of permanent imprisonment.” 

“Does Maya know what’s been going on?” Abby asks, shaking her head. 

“Fuck no, and she’s never going to. Have you seen her Snaps?” You whip out your phone and show her Amaya’s stories; She’s exploring and meeting new people. “She’s having a ball! The second I tell her what’s been going on, she’s gonna drop everything and come back. I’m not doing that to her.” 

“You’re the only outlet I have, so suck it up and listen to me bitch and moan.” You continue, “Who’s coming tonight?” 

She smiles, “As many as I could get.” 

“Please tell me Armani’s coming.” 

“She is, for sure.” 

Your heart flutters. Armani… She’s everything you could ever want and need. She’s kind, smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and she bench presses with Abby on the weekends. She has your clit jumping like a salmon in the freshwater, and you’re going to see her tonight. 

You jump awake at your alarm, eyes stinging as you glance at your phone. It’s a little past nine; Pregaming hours. 

You throw your lazy body into the shower and conduct your special-occasions ritual, blasting your music as loud as the speaker would allow, scrubbing your body with exfoliant to your heart's content. 

You exit, water cascading down your shoulders and back, towel engulfed around your body. You have no idea what to fucking wear; What color does Armani like? Do lesbians qualify for the red nail theory or is that something heteros made up for TikTok followers? What if she doesn’t like eucalyptus scented body wash? 

You swallow your doubts with a shot glass. 

Outfit prepping takes longer than expected, but you’re dressed, titties are out, and your thoughts are swirling like the liquor in your gut. You should call Amaya and tell her you love her—

Another shot, more dancing. You’re spinning around your small room to the bass of the beat, sloppily pulling every shot that you can, back arching and hips throwing in any direction they can. 

The bass sounds louder the more you dance, every thud rattling the poster-covered walls of your room. 

It’s not until the bass surpasses the song that you realize it’s not bass at all. It’s knocking… on your bedroom door. You snicker; Abby’s here with your girl. 

You don’t know why she’s boxing with your door, though. Beating the shit out of it. When you yank it open, you’re instantly annoyed at who appears behind it. 

A… gray sweat clad Ellie propped against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest and red hairs framing her face. You force your eyes upward, right in between hers. The dots on her face look like skittles. Since when does she have a fucking tattoo? Are you hallucinating or is it a fat ass leaf with eyeballs?

You barely registered what she said, “Can you turn that off? It’s almost eleven.” 

“Why, absolutely-the-fuck-not.” You slur, and she cringes, nose wrinkling at the scent of liquor on you. “Where’s Abby?” 

Ellie’s biceps are… out on the prowl. And the veins in her hands are still there. Just checking. Right between her eyes again. 

“Who the hell is that?” 

“My bitch.” You chuckle.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you correct yourself. 

“N-Not bitch like whore. Bitch like… like, that’s my bitch! She’s great, love her. BFF… not over Amaya, though.”

Ellie’s getting annoyed; Her nose won’t stop twitching. “… Is she coming over?” 

“She should be on her way.”

“Is she stupid?” 

“What.” 

“Is your… bitch stupid?” 

“Um, no, she’s not fucking stupid. What the hell are you on.” You snap, offended for your friend. 

“Tell her to stay the fuck home before she gets buried.” 

… Did Ellie just threaten to kill one of your sneaky-links? Before she gets buried? 

“And what the fuck are you gonna do? Just so you know, whatever you do, she’ll double it and send it back! And I’m jumping in, so— “ 

Your roommate’s gawking in disbelief. “… I meant buried by the snow, you fucking idiot. There’s a blizzard outside.” 

You’re flatlining, you can feel it. 

“There’s a what.” 

“Check the damn news.” She pushes herself off the wall and turns towards her room, “And go to bed. Looks like you need it.” 

Her door slams shut. She’s definitely poking fun at your eyebags. You thought you did a good job at concealing them. 

A fucking blizzard? December just started. You check your phone, reading the influx of messages from your dad, Amaya, Abby telling you to stay safe and indoors and the party’s cancelled because of the storm and you want to fucking die—

You tear a slit in your blinds and… yup. Pure white is pelting from the dark gray clouds in the sky, the formerly black street painted ivory with ice. Not a car in sight, and if they are, they’re covered entirely. 

The harsh reality hasn’t even set in yet. The girl you want to strangle is trapped inside with you; She’s not going anywhere, either. You’re going to be forced to see her everywhere in your two-bedroom apartment. And you’re not having sex tonight. 

Plan PISS-ELLIE-OFF was a bust. You’re drunk and hungry—

Your eyes bulge; When was the last time you’ve gone grocery shopping? 

You clumsily rush to the kitchen, nearly ripping your fridge door off the handle. When you're met with the pack of cream cheese and mini croissants you bought last week and all of Ellie’s fresh groceries (including squash), you almost start crying. You slept away all your pre-storm chore hours. 

Ellie pads in the kitchen with an empty ice cream carton and spoon, headphones blasting in her ears. She doesn’t acknowledge you as she throws away the carton and grabs the unopened bag of salt and vinegar chips. Your mouth waters. 

You watch as she rips the bag open, the salty, bitter aroma traveling into your nostrils. 

“Ellie.” She can’t hear you over the fuckery penetrating her eardrums! 

You tap her shoulder harder than necessary. “Don’t touch me.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS A STORM?”

Her veiny hand — fuck — pushes one of her ear cups over to the side, not even bothering to look at you as she fills her bowl to the brim with the crunchy snack; You never noticed how heavily pierced her left ear is. 

“Who are you again?” 

Alright. Your tongue gets loose, “You know, you don’t have to act like a fucking cunt all the time! I tried to be nice to you and—” 

“Yeah, ‘cause shit talking me with your friends is so fucking nice.” She scoffs and turns, pointed glare set on you. Your stomach drops. How the fuck did she know that?

“Drop the fucking act already. You’re also a cunt…” Her eyes drag over your appearance. “Amongst other things, evidently.” 

Ellie’s eyes hold so much disdain, and you instantly feel exposed and gross. Your face sears with embarrassment, arms mindlessly crossing over your chest in attempts to cover up. 

“… What the fuck does that mean?” You know what she means. 

“You think I’m a fucking freak and a loser and a bunch of other shit I’ve been called since forever?” She sneers, “Then you’re a fucking slut. How’s that for nice?” 

Your body locks up, freezes, and you fight back vomit. Ellie grabs her bowl and exits the kitchen, door slamming shut, leaving you to simmer in her spite. 

You don’t feel hungry anymore. 

You didn’t drink enough last night. You’re awake, and you remember everything. And you’re so fucking hungry. 

Guilt festers in your chest like rats, and anxiety is building in your fingers. Your head hurts so bad and your mouth is dry, but you refuse to move from under your blankets to get water. You didn’t even have the energy to take your make-up off last night, mascara and small sparkles smeared all over your pillowcase. 

You wallow, using the heavy wind outside as stress relief. People really think you’re a whore with no self-respect, even after a year. Your heart’s hitting against your ribcage at an alarming pace. Deep breaths, that’s all you can do. 

Tears jerk in your eyes as you recall every unwanted stare, every cat-call, every grope and dirty text message you’ve received from people you both know and don’t. You freeze and… that’s it. You just don’t move and hope they can read that you’re scared. 

Does Ellie feel the same way when people talk poorly about her? 

Your breathing techniques aren’t working so you sit up, shaking your hands and digging your palms into your wet eyes. You’re suddenly too hot for blankets. 

Your clock reads near noon; You’ve been awake for hours. Your feet plant on the cool wood and sigh in relief before standing and snagging your new paint brushes off your dresser. 

Your hands tremble as you fill a water cup and grab a black canvas, setting up your workspace on the floor. You squirt hues of blue, green and white on a dried paper plate and let your brush do the work; You’re not thinking, just painting, smudging, trapping yourself in emptiness. The scene you’re creating is drying your tears; You wish you could escape into the grass field, even for a second. 

Your water cup is brown by the time you finish; How long have you been sitting here? The needles in your legs tell you long enough. Your vision will have to wait. 

You unlock and quietly open the door… It doesn’t matter, though. Ellie’s awake and silently sitting on the couch. You pay her no mind and venture to the fridge for your croissants and cream cheese, throwing your pastries in the microwave. 

Eyes are on you. You feel them in your back. 

When the microwave dings, you spread cream cheese all over the buttery dough. Ellie’s hoarse voice freezes you. Not again. 

“The blizzard… isn’t stopping.”

You finally inspect your roommate: leg bouncing and brows furrowed, nails between her teeth, eyes locked on the window that shows the heavy snowfall. 

“Usually how they work.” 

Your sarcasm doesn’t move her, “They said it would pass after a couple of hours yesterday! It hasn’t let up yet!”

“Never listen to weathermen. They make shit up as they go.” You keep your voice curt while you make your plate. It looks a hot mess; You wish you had blackberry jam. 

“They can’t make shit up when there’s money on the fucking line!” You hear footsteps from behind you; Ellie’s pacing. “I have a client today. Their photos were supposed to go in my portfolio before I submit it!” 

Her statement makes you pause. You didn’t think about that; It’s impossible to travel anywhere at the moment. How the fuck are you going to get to work? You can’t afford to miss shifts. It’s almost that time of the month. 

“This was one of the biggest bookings I’ve gotten and I’m gonna miss it because of the fucking weather!” 

You don’t know why she's talking to you, so you cut the conversation short. “You’ll figure it out.”  You enter your room without another word, slamming the door as hard as noise complaints would allow. 

After a few minutes, Ellie’s door slams, too. 

Hours pass and you’re covered in paint. Your one flower field turned into three, one with detailed butterflies, one with raining rose petals, one with your mother’s name spelled out with clouds. 

Your fingers are sore, but you feel lighter. Those croissants wore off a long time ago; You’re starving. What you’d give for grilled eggplant and shrimp with Greek yogurt and lemon juice—

A soft knock lands on your door, and you stiffen. You stand, legs popping and arms stretching over your head as you wobble to your door. 

The second it opens, you're hit with the smell of garlic and herbs and your mouth waters. Ellie stands over you, playing with her fingers. You don’t register that you’re missing pants until she gawks at your bare legs; Warmth spreads across your body and you maneuver so she can’t see them behind the door. 

A moment of awkward silence before she chokes, “There’s, uh… there’s soup on the stove.” You scoff, ignoring the growling in your stomach. 

“I don’t like squash, Ellie.” 

The door slams in her face and she sighs behind the wood. 

…

Later that night, you sneak into the dark kitchen, the big pot of soup still on the stove. You open the lid and inspect its contents: shredded chicken, carrots, fucking… green leaves of some sort. You grab a spoon and taste it to be safe. It’s good, and there’s no squash in it. You eat two warm bowls. 

The storm calms when you wake the next morning. Thank God; You haven’t had coffee in days. 

Ellie’s gone for the day, so you blast music while in the shower. You dry and dress in silence, yanking your underwear and jeans up your legs, throwing on a pair of earmuffs over your earphones and a puffer. 

You almost slip on the ice from the sidewalk on the way to you and Abby’s coffee shop before heading to class like normal. You go grocery shopping before your first shift. 

Work drags on like normal, legs numb from standing and throat dry from sale attempts at checkout. Who the fuck wants to apply for a credit card for a coffee machine website? 

It’s not until your shift is on its last limbs that your heart stops in your chest. The bell rings to the hardware store, and you instantly rush to the back to retrieve your other coworker. It’s Dina. What the fuck. 

You burst into the break room, “Raja, Raja, I need a favor.” 

She slurps her ramen, exclaiming what around her soggy noodles. 

You search for any heads and whisper, “There’s someone I used to fuck outside! Can you take care of her, please, I can’t— “

“Okay, okay, damn. I got it— “

The service bell rings, “Go, go! Hurry up!” Your coworker swallows her noodles and plasters her smile on her face. You hide behind the cracked door and listen to everything. 

“Hey, ladies! Sorry about the wait!” 

“No problem!” Dina’s laugh sends a pain in your chest, “I just needed a new bike lock. Someone tried to steal mine, like, what the fuck.” 

There’s an unfamiliar laugh that melds with Dina’s. “No problem! Would you like to sign up for a Coffee Brewers credit card with your purchase? They’ll repair all filter baskets and decanters for 45% off!” 

You almost smile; Dina doesn’t drink coffee. Raja checks them out, and you peer out the small opening of the door. Dina and… whoever the fuck that is are snuggled up behind the service counter, her head resting on the random’s shoulder. They’re whispering and laughing and you’re disgusted. And sad. 

They depart with a small bag and Raja almost smashes the door into your face. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Mourning.” 

“Damn… sorry, man.” 

You shrug and thank your coworker before returning to your position. What could’ve been. 

It’s late when you get home. 

Ellie’s on the couch; You feel her watch as you unlace your boots and unravel your scarf. You set your bag on the floor and grab your Cheesecake Factory brown bread loaf for your grilled PB&J. Ellie clears her throat; You say nothing. 

She coughs louder when you butter your bread. 

“Are you sick or something?”

Ellie whips her head around, “No, why?” 

“You’re coughing like you’re gonna die.” 

Your roommate doesn’t reply, so you turn and toast your bread on the stove. 

“How was the soup?” 

Your eyes bulge, “Huh?” 

“Did it taste… like, decent?” 

You stare down at your sizzling toast, “I dunno what you mean.” 

Voice flat as ever, she says, “The soup… you had some— “

“No, I didn’t— “

“Wha— I know what was in the pot when I ate. You had some—” 

You face her, skin boiling, “Okay, and what about it? Yes, I ate some! I would’ve had three bowls instead of two if I wasn’t so fucking tired! It was good as fuck! I slept like a baby!” 

She calls your name but you ignore her, “Sorry, I got my disgusting, slutty germs all over your stupid chicken noodle soup! Is that what you wanna hear! What, are whores not allowed food, either?! Why’d you offer it to me then?!” 

Another rushed call of your name, but you press on, “Y’know, you’re actually weird as fuck! Who calls someone a filthy, bottom of the barrel gutter rat then offers them soup the next day! What kinda limbo fuckery are you playin’ at— “

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP… BEEP—

You gasp when the fire alarm sounds. When you turn, your toast is charred black and surrounded by dark smoke. You cut the heat off and push the pan over. Ellie’s running with a towelette, waving it around the beeping alarm. 

You grab a washcloth and help her, and eventually it cuts off. Ellie rushes over to the front door and switches the ceiling fan on. 

Your sandwich is fucking ruined. Great! 

You don’t know why you’re sobbing, but it’s loud. You just want to go to fucking bed. Ellie’s just standing there with a towel in hand, fiddling with her earlobe. How embarrassing. 

You push yourself off the counter and turn to go to your room, but Ellie calls for you. 

“What?! What now, Ellie!” 

She cringes, “I— You’re not a… slut?” 

Your teary eyes squint at her. “Are you asking me— “

“No! No, I’m… Sorry? You’re not a slut.” This is the weirdest apology you’ve ever received in your entire goddamn life. 

“Well, fuck me! Thanks!” You snark between sniffles. You yank your bedroom door open.

“You’re good at painting!” She shouts, and you stop. 

For some reason, you sob harder, and she panics, “Uhh… I mean, like, for an amateur! Like, you’re decent enough!” 

Now you’re… laughing? You need to sleep now. Ellie chuckles uncomfortably, and you snicker darkly to yourself, “Life is a fucking joke, oh my god.” 

Your fingers dig deep into your wet eyes, and Ellie’s sock-covered feet pad closer. 

“Look, I’m not… I don't know what to say.” 

“Then don’t talk.” 

“‘Kay.” 

She stands there in silence and watches you wipe your face on your sweater sleeve, mascara smearing all over the fabric. 

“Why didn’t you use squash in the soup?” 

“Uh… you wouldn’t have eaten it if I did.” 

You nod and stare at the wall. “So, what? That was a peace offering?” 

Ellie contemplates what she should say. 

“Not really… I mean, I was hungry, but I didn’t care if you ate… some of it, if that makes sense.” 

It doesn’t. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.” Her lip curls like she wants to add something, but she doesn’t. 

“… Alright.” 

“Don’t worry about the pan. I’ll get it tomorrow.” And just like that, you shut the door on her again. 

You don’t have the energy to shower, so you undress and tuck yourself in. Your room is warmer than usual. 

Ellie’s been acting differently since then. 

For the past three days, she’s been greeting you whenever you’re in her line of vision. She even mumbled hi before she took her seat in stats yesterday. It’s awkward and stiff, but there’s always a wave somewhere in her movements. You nod back at her every time. 

You’re not sure where your relationship lies with your roommate, but it’s not as… bad? Seeing her doesn’t bother you as much as it did; You suppose it’s the same for her, too. 

You’re exhausted; Finals are around the corner, and you’re busting your ass. You had to get another job for the holiday season since it’s you and your dad’s first Christmas together since you were little, and you want to get him something nice. 

All you need is a good nut and you’re set for the next two weeks. You miss Abby. She’s been just as busy with nonsense as you have, but you found time to see her later tonight. 

You’re stuck in the library trying to make the concept of categorical variables stick, but it’s not working. You’re in a block because you’re thinking about Abby. She should be here to pick you up soon. 

You slam your book shut when your phone goes off, a message from… Ellie. 

You set your phone down with a small smile. What a weirdo. 

You force yourself to study for another hour. Heavy hands clamp down on your shoulders and you shriek, other students looking up in confusion, your hand clasping over your mouth. 

Abby’s laughing behind you, warm breaths hitting your ear before she kisses your cheek. 

“Hi.” She whispers. 

“Hi yourself.” 

“Pack that shit up.” Abby points at your books and messy stacks of paper. “Let’s roll.” 

You don’t hesitate, shoving everything in your bag in anticipation of your nut. Your clit’s cheering; She’s finally happy. 

You’re warm, well-fed, and Abby’s drilling the fuck out of you, but you can’t cum.

Your face is shoved into your friend’s pillow; She’s hitting exactly where you need her to, and it feels good. You’re tipping, but you haven’t tipped. You’ve been on the verge of orgasming for the past ten minutes and it’s driving you crazy. 

Your voice is barely there, “Just cuuum, just cum, just cum—“ You’re begging… yourself into her pillow. 

Abby sounds so sexy behind you; You’re shocked you’re not convulsing at the sound of her voice alone. 

After some time, her hips slowed into a stop, tip nudged inside you. 

“… You good?” She exhales.

You throw her two thumbs up. You’re not good at all. 

Abby snorts and pulls out, gently patting your hip, “Sit up and talk to me.” 

Your legs give out from underneath you and you lay flat. Abby hands you a washcloth and you wipe between your legs while she unstraps her dick. 

“I think I’m broken.” You muffle into her slobbery pillowcase. 

“You’re not broken, you’re just not feeling it. It’s fine.”

She’s too sweet. You want to cry, “I’m sor— “

“Don’t you dare. Finish your Wingstop.” 

“Okay.” You grumble. 

Abby drops you off after the movie finishes. The red string that connects her clit to yours snaps as you waddle back up to your apartment. 

You enter your shared home and you’re instantly freezing; Ellie’s not here. She hates sleeping when it’s cold. 

You and your pussy sigh in relief. Just five minutes by yourself; that’s all you need. Your shoes and backpack are thrown to the side in the nick of time, bursting through your bedroom door and rummaging through your drawer. Your cunt screams eureka when your vibrator turns on. You don’t remember charging the son of a bitch! 

Your pants and panties are lunged across your bedroom and you leap into bed. Your toy’s buzzing in your hand, and your walls squeeze in anticipation. Foreplay be damned. 

Your eyes shut the second the vibrations hit your clit, trying to imagine a sweaty Abby on top of you, fucking you deep, choking you out. Your orgasm is right there, walls desperately trying to milk the brisk air around you. You shove two free fingers inside, and your muscles latch onto them, pulling them in deeper. It’s right there, just a little more. 

“Please, please, c’mon, fuck— “

Your pleas go ignored. Your imagination has never failed you, so why can’t you fucking cum? 

Desperate sobs combine with your moans, brain filled with Abby, and Dina. Even Armani slips her way in there and you’ve seen her twice in person, but it’s useless. Your peak never comes. 

You’re seconds away from shattering your window with your fucking vibrator. You and Ellie can’t afford to get that shit fixed—

Your clit jumps at the brief image of your roommate, pissed off and berating you about breaking a fucking window. You hate that you don’t fight it, the visions of her and her strong arms, her twitchy nose, her dot-covered face. It’s stirring something vicious in your tummy, and you can’t keep your mouth shut. 

You see her on top of you instead of Abby, her short hair loosening from her bun and framing her blushing face. Pretty, moss-filled eyes stare back at you, annoyance and bother replaced with something darker. Needier; She wants you to take from her. 

“Fuck, fuck, mmh— “

Your hips buck when your positions switch in your mind, a blushing, spent Ellie, reaching for you, pulling you close, begging to touch her. 

You’re so loud when your orgasm splits your brain in two, your stress melting away in an instant, nasty, unspoken visuals of your pouty and weird housemate fluttering beneath your eyelids. You ride your high until you can’t, vibrator clattering to the floor, walls flexing around nothing. 

You’re so tired that you don’t bother moving. You pull the covers over your trembling form and knock out, not even bothering to turn your shaking toy off as it rattles on the hardwood. 

It’ll be dead by the time Ellie comes home. If she does. 

…

…

…

Ellie lays on her side in her bed, knees pulled to her chest, her tattooed arm wrapped around her tummy and a hand covering her mouth. Her face is burning hot and her stomach is swirling. Whenever she blinks, she can see you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you surrender to your release. 

Her heart is racing and minutes away from crawling up her throat. 

She completely forgets to put in that maintenance request for your broken heater; She’s warm enough under the covers for tonight. 

A/N: hi again its finna pick up LEMME COOOOOK LEMME COOK

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