#i was also hanging out with my friend on a trail and there was a robin just constantly sitting by and watching us

[pointedextr]

it’s that time of year (when the world falls in love)

poly!wolfstar x reader inspired by the christmas waltz by laufey (also thrown together, kinda messy, but it's cutie)

“Happy Christmas!”

Lily’s hair is dotted with fresh snowflakes, Harry’s dark little head peeking out from her arms in the soft glow of the twinkling coloured lights Sirius had insisted on hanging outside. You can see James loaded with presents a few steps behind his wife, face barely visible behind the brightly wrapped packages. You bring Lily into a warm hug, shuffling her inside while keeping in mind the toddler who laughs at the affection, patting your cheeks with small, chilly hands. 

“Happy Christmas, Jamie.” You call as Lily and Harry toddle further into the warmth, hands outstretched to help with his mountain of gifts but he side-steps you with ease, smacking a kiss to the top of your head.

“Oi, Padfoot!” He yells into the open doorway, pausing to adjust his grip. “Come help me!”

“Happy Christmas to you, too, Prongs, love you as well, Prongs, happy to see you, Prongs.” Sirius calls back, sarcasm dripping from every word, but you still watch him round the corner of the living room and pluck a sizable amount of presents from his friend’s arms, kissing your nose before following his best friend inside. You trail after them, securing the door shut, shiny Mary Janes making a soft noise against the wood of your entryway as you duck beneath a low hanging string of popcorn. 

Lily is busying herself with pouring a drink into a delicate glass, Marlene and Dorcas engaging her in bustling conversation as soon as they spot her. Alice, Frank, and little Neville are corralled around your plush loveseat, Neville waving around a cherry red toy car with blinking lights and moving windshield wipers, and next to them, Mary and Peter are giggling with heads bent together. Emmeline twirls a lock of dark hair around her finger, currently flicking through the snack tray and plucking every strawberry out of the fruit you’d painstakingly prepared earlier that day. 

James and Sirius had taken it upon themselves to stack the new additions to the present stash in an elaborate tower that looks like it’d fall at the slightest breath.

“Be careful, Pads.” Remus calls across the room from where you’d left him to answer the doorbell, one of the slim glasses you’d set out for drinks balanced on his knee as long, deft fingers trace the lip of the thing. You sidle up next to him, perching yourself on the armrest of the chair, and his free hand comes up to rest on your thigh.

“I’m walking on eggshells, Moony, I swear!” As he says this, however, a particularly heavy gift bag thumps onto the ground at his feet. 

“Alright, you two, I think we can leave the presents as they are.” You placate, a smile playing at your lips. “It looks great.” Sirius smiles a dazzlingly boyish grin at your praise, and you feel a flush heat the tips of your ears at the attention.

“You went all out, huh?” Lily asks, flicking at the garland you’d secured to the tops of your kitchen cabinets.

“I go all out every year!” You crow. “You just never knew because I never had a big enough place to deck out, and we always went to yours, or Frank and Alice’s to celebrate.”

“Thank Godric you didn’t try to do all this when we were in school. If I’d woken up to tinsel in my knickers, you’d have been hexed halfway to Spain.” Marlene quips, springing a laugh from the group. 

Everyone turns conversation back inward, and you melt just that little bit more into Remus, bending down to press your lips to the side of his head.

“What was that for?” It’s teasingly gentle, his thumb rubbing comfortingly over your tights, and your chest feels warm. 

“Just because. I’m feeling the giving spirit.” You smile, shifting closer so your hip knocks into his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll snog Sirius under the mistletoe. He put it under every doorway.” 

“I’m an opportunist.” The man in question swipes Remus’ drink from his hands after abandoning James across the room, a devilish smile hidden behind the glass as he drains the rest of the contents of it.

“Oh, so if you were caught in the doorway with, say, Dorcas?” Remus teases, snatching his empty cup back and vanishing it into the sink with a wave of his hand.

Sirius thumps his chest, an attempt of a valiant hero persona shrouding his features playfully, and he salutes to Dorcas, who’d narrowed her eyes in your direction as soon as she heard her name. 

“If Father Christmas demands it, it must be so.”

“I doubt Father Christmas is jonesing for you to pash a lesbian, but I’m not exactly Mrs. Claus, so what do I know?” You make to slip from under Remus’ hand to get him a new glass, but he tightens his hold just the smallest bit before you can get anywhere, tilting his face up just so. You know he’s handsome; you try to tell him this any chance you get, tracing the line of his nose, the dip of his mouth, the apples of his cheeks, but you’re struck by it in the fuzzy lights of your home, the candle-like warmth of your Christmas tree casting his face in such a way that your breath hitches. Before he even speaks, you’re darting forward to kiss him, just a small brush of your lips across his so your lipstick doesn’t smudge.

“Still in the giving spirit?” 

You hum, offering your abandoned seat to Sirius, who slides easily against Remus, wrapping their hands together tightly, and slinking into the kitchen. Harry’s attached to James at the hip, munching quite happily on a cracker he’d been given, and making grabby hands at the cube of cheese James has halfway to his mouth. 

“Dada, can I have some?” He’s quite good at speaking, more eloquent than Ron Weasley, who has a touch of a lisp and usually strings together just the important words. 

“Let’s split it, huh, Haz?” The orange cube is small, but James succeeds at halving it, and offers the bigger piece to his son. 

“Excited to open presents, Haz?” You ask, flicking your wand to the top shelf where Sirius thinks it's funny to store things so he can laugh as you jump to retrieve them. A tube of chocolate wands floats down to the counter, and you open the container to snap one in thirds and hand two pieces to James so he can give it to Harry when he sees fit and popping the final third into your mouth. 

The boy lights up like he’d been plugged in, emerald eyes widening as if he’d forgotten what today was.

“We got my presents from Santa at home, and I got a new broomstick! It’s p’olly more bigger than Uncle Padfoot’s, it’s almost as tall as Dad! Mummy says I can’t use it until I’m bigger, but I think I’m big enough, you think I’m big enough, right, Auntie?” He’s rambling around the cheese, and you laugh, nodding along to his story as he tells you all the things Santa brought him as you pour a heavy hand into a glass for Sirius and mix a sweeter concoction for Remus, along with chocolate wands for the both of them. Harry clutches your skirt as you pad back into the living room, still rambling on about his presents. “But mummy said Santa forgot to give me something called pay-tense. I don’t know what that is, but it sounds so boring, I’m glad he forgot it.” 

“That does sound quite boring, Haz.” Across the room, Remus and Sirius have relocated to the couch closest to the tree, and Sirius is impatiently palming a small present, shaking it against his ear like he could hear something through the box.  With a quirk of your lips, you lean down to whisper to Harry: “I think Santa forgot to bring your Uncle some this year, too, but I also think Santa has been forgetting to give it to him since he was a baby.” 

You nudge him toward Lily and James, who have a pile of presents sitting in front of them for Harry; you spot your present wrapped in Gryffindor red and gold with an expert bow you’d spent at least thirty minutes on, a mini handmade plush set of the Quidditch balls enchanted to actually work and a pendant that said ‘Future Captain!’ There’s a space on the couch that you go to slide into, but Sirius catches your waist, settling you comfortably across his legs, chin perched on your shoulder.

“You’ve been giving Moony love all night.” He whines, a bit histrionically, and you smack a kiss to his cheek in response. A lip print stands out starkly against his skin, deep red on his pale cheeks, and he makes no move to wipe anything away. 

“So whiney, Sirius.” Remus’ lips twist into a half smirk, taking his drink and chocolate wand from your hands. 

“You love it.” Sirius accepts the kiss Remus gives him as apology.

Harry’s ripping through his presents with Neville close behind, a pile of wrapping paper and crepe slowly forming around the boys that Frank and James can’t help but vanish intermittently. Neville laughs as a large butterfly flutters around his head, a present from Emmeline, its textile wings softly batting his hair as it floats. From Sirius, Harry pulls out play quidditch robes, and a note telling him to open your present next. Remus gave him and Neville picture books he’d charmed to help them learn how to read (though Harry’s had a special spell on it that insulted James if he picked up the book, so when he bent to gather Harry’s things together, it called him a ‘big piece of stag dung’ which Lily found quite funny.)

Harry delighted in your present, the soft bludgers bouncing off his head as he smiled widely at you. The kids finished with their lot, sizable piles of toys, books, and clothes stacked beside them. 

“Oh, Remus, it’s perfect!” Lily held a muggle video camera, pressing at buttons and pointing the lens at her son, then at the smiling man who’d gifted it to her. 

“Oi, what about my gift, Lilyflower?” James whined, though it was all in good fun. She cuffed the back of his neck with a slightly irritated blush at whatever she found in the wrapping, sending him reeling forwards. Covering her son’s eyes, she held up gold lingerie with little white bows holding it all together, and everyone burst out in awkward laughter.

James had given Sirius a heaping of personally designed gag gifts, a few of which were muggle made, a limp whoopee cushion thrown across the room to smack Peter in the face on accident. Underneath the mountain of fake vomit, dungbombs, and a suspicious looking potion with a label that said 'Gut-Be-Gone’, there was a small envelope with a silver wax seal. 

“You’re joking, Prongs!” Inside the envelope, Sirius produced three tickets to AC/DC’s tour, picking back up in the new year. He clapped James on the back firmly, a fond smile and a blush to the high points of his cheeks, flashing a huge smile at Remus and you.

You’re struck with how beautiful he is, similar to the feeling you’d had with Remus. Sirius settles right back in, pulling you firmly onto his lap and you trace the planes of his face with your gaze, the pretty pink of his cheeks with a bit of drink in him, the foggy paleness that makes up his eyes; the dichotomy of him is breathtaking, the dark ink that peeks over the collar of his shirt and circles his long fingers, the silver glint of piercings that almost match the hue of his iris. You find yourself pressing light kisses to the side of his nose, the dip of his upper lip, the hinge of his jaw, the beauty mark next to his right eye, which he lets you do without comment or question.

You were so wrapped up, forgive the pun, in watching your loved ones and the joy the day was bringing to them, you hardly remembered your own pile until everyone was finished, the muffled sound of Peter’s gift from James (a card that sang the most annoying Christmas carols Lily could think of that had held a ticket to a special screening of the Star Wars trilogy, Peter’s favourite movie) ringing in the air. 

“Dove, it’s your turn.” Remus nudges your hand towards the presents, guiding you to a nicely wrapped present that reads Alice and Mary in Alice’s precise scrawl.

You pick at the tape with the blunt of your nail, peeling it delicately until it comes undone in your hands. Inside is something you’d never think Alice or Mary would give you as a gift; delicate lace fabric unfurls in your hand. It’s a long length, and if the texture didn’t tell you it’s ancient, the fading of the white would have done it in. Nevertheless, it’s gorgeous, intricate and detailed and you can’t help but brush your fingers over it with the utmost care. Your brows furrow as you look at them, but they smile a knowing smile, and you thank them wholeheartedly.

“Next gift.” Sirius is speaking very softly, and as he passes the present, he presses a kiss to your cheek with similar gentleness.

It’s a package from Marlene, and you look up to see her smiling, though she’s biting at her nail beds nervously.

“I’m sure I’ll love it, Marlene.” 

And you do, though you have similar sentiments to Marlene’s gift you'd had to the previous present. It’s lovely, a pair of stunning earrings that float in an invisible wind, petal-like and iridescent, with misshapen pearls dangling from the posts . Holding them to the light, you can see little spirally veins running through the thin membrane, and you cast an incredulous look at your friend, the black polish on her nail very obviously chipping from the bite of her teeth. 

“They’re spidersilk mimicry of fairy wings, we saw a pair similar in Hogsmeade that one time during our sixth year. I thought, hey, what the hell, why not.” 

“Marlene, they’re gorgeous, absolutely. Thank you so much.”

Remus passes you the fourth present, an odd look in his brown eyes, almost anticipatory though you know it has little to do with the present, because the label doesn’t read Remus, it reads Lily.

Lily is your absolute best friend in the world, and you know she echoes the sentiment by the misty look in her eyes as you pull her present out, a small, square, and featherlight box.

“Lillian Jane Evans-Potter, what in the fresh hell?”

It’s a picture of her and James on their wedding day, moving and smiling and only looking at each other. Sirius is behind them, smiling a devilish smile at the camera, and he winks at you from the photograph. You turn the picture over in the box, and something jingles out onto your lap. It’s a dragonfly brooch, it’s Lily’s mother’s dragonfly brooch, and Lily’s since added a locket charm that’s empty and pings lightly against the brooch. You have no time to question her present before you’re being proffered a fourth present, oddly, your final present aside from a huge box with no label.

It’s from James and Peter, the former flashes a wide, toothy smile, and the latter looks at you very expectantly, albeit with warmth. 

You very carefully open the final package, expecting to be shot in the face with a horrid smell or turned into a giant blueberry, but there’s a simple handkerchief folded over four times. It’s blank, plain white, and it’s the only thing in the package, and you look at it very expectantly, as if it’ll blow up.

“C’mon, daredevil, pick it up!” James crows, and you gingerly prod it with a finger, flipping it over.

“Not like that,” Peter says, cringing. “You have to pick it up fully, or it won’t work.”

You shoot Remus and Sirius questioning looks, and they look almost nervous at your reaction, but you pick the handkerchief up anyhow and almost drop it as it bleeds from your touch; the stark white slowly turns a beautiful shimmery shade of blue, revealing white words seemingly etched into the corner: Happy Christmas! Say yes! - James and Peter

These presents are lovely, yet, you’re so puzzled. None of them make much sense to you, maybe Marlene’s can be explained away, but they’re extravagant earrings, and the thought makes you sweat because all you’d gotten her was a Stevie Nicks record and a black leather choker from a market you and Sirius had gone to. Lily offering her dead mother’s brooch? The lacey fabric from Alice and Mary? And the very, very odd blue handkerchief that turned white again as soon as you set it down. A furrow developed between your brows, and Remus stretched a hand out to soothe it down, kissing the side of your mouth before handing you the giant present you had left.

It was huge. It took up almost all of your upper body, coming to a stop just at your nose. Despite the side, the package was light, and when you jokingly shook it, nothing happened.

“Open it, love.” Sirius prompted.

You notched the tape with your finger, and automatically, the box disappeared, a floating, tiny jewellery box taking its place. Small little stars, like the lights on your Christmas tree, floated along with it, circling it, then dancing away, then back again, like nothing could keep still in the anticipation. Your fingers warmed when they made contact with the small thing, and the stars rushed into your being, floating warmly and playfully through your hair, along your shoulders and down your nose. For lack of better words, it was breathtakingly beautiful. 

It seemed like the whole room was holding its breath, Alice was clenching her chair with white knuckles, Lily and James leaned so close it looked like they were almost out of their seats. Marlene bit the sides of her nails raw, and Dorcas’s nose was wrinkled. Mary, Peter, Frank, and Emmeline all tensed like windup toys. Harry and Neville didn’t seem to care, both sharing sugar quills among themselves.

You opened the box, and gasped.

A ring sat among plus red velvet, the stone twinkling and gleaming as your eyes wet. 

“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Your words were tight with the closing of your throat, like something was tugging your oesophagus into a pinch. “Oh, my.” It was all you could say.

Sirius’ fingers came into your vision, plucking the ring from its bed of elegance and passing his thumb over the stone, his entire body tense against yours like a violin string pulled taught.

“I don’t want to profess all the things I want to say in front of this lot,” His voice is a whisper, rough and low and so very filled with emotion. “But I love you. We love you. We wanted you to be first.”

You’d discussed marriage, one night, all lying together and limbs tangled so tightly you couldn’t tell where you ended and someone else began. You remember saying you wanted to get on a knee and give someone a ring, that you didn’t want to be the only one with a symbol of love, so you all agreed to plan engagements when the time came. You promised, with great vigour through the sleepy haze you were under, to propose like nobody's business. You were so sure that Remus chuckling into your hair was an agreement, not an appeasement because they were already planning something so lovely, something that made your insides warm, something that made you want to kick everyone out so you could do some very lovely things to your very lovely lovers.

“Oh, give me the ring before I punch you.”

You kiss him so violently when it slides home on your left hand, your teeth knock together and he falls into the couch with a noise that sends the room hooting with laughter. You turn to Remus, who’s looking at your hand like it’s been touched by Midas, and launch yourself towards him with a sickening speed, lips and teeth and tongue all at play as you clutch his face in your hands, running a thumb over a scar that pulls taught across his cheek as he kisses you back. 

“I’m going to propose the hell out of you, just you wait.” 

“Looking forward to it.”

[n1ntendos]

it used to be really difficult seeing pictures of my grandpa and grandma after their passing, but now it feels more comforting than anything. i have a picture with my grandpa on my phone where he’s kissing me on the cheek and i’m smiling the biggest smile in the world. it’s such a cozy picture, we are sitting at the dinner table with candles burning. sometimes i pull it up on my phone and send him an air kiss. i miss him, but he’s always there with me and always will be!

[domesticated-whores]

actually having a full mental breakdown over canceled plans, lol

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Broke: going to a random stranger’s wedding for free food and a chance to dress up and dance

Woke: going to a random stranger’s wedding purely as a chance to get together with your friend and her family, getting free food, dressing up and dance ✨together✨

[flatoatchi]

betrayed by my own birkenstocks

[barkingangelbaby]

I'm screaming!! sometimes I'll listen to the old audio recordings I have on my phone when I'm bored and there's a decent amount from 2014-2016 where I'm just.. CHOMPING on some cheezits and saying the slowest sentences while high/tripping.. so thankful my friends still enjoyed my company bc what the fuck was I saying???

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

[canthelpit0]

Intimate

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k +

In wich: matt has a borderline obsession with cock warming

Warnings: smut, cock warming, p in v, use of y/n, 1st pov, praise kink, name calling (slut), pet names, unprotected, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language! Also this song has like barely anything to do w the plot, I just feel like that’s the vibe. This is sort of like a blurb. Hope you guys like it <3)

One of the considerably weird things Matt is into is: cock warming.

I clench at the thought trying to focus on my history homework.

I’ve known Matt for practically all my life. We’ve always been close and no conversation between us was ever awkward.

Matt didn’t seem like the type to be into that sort of stuff. But one day, when, we were hanging out and cuddling like we were normally, I felt a hardness at my butt.

When I turned back to look at him he was blushing. Matt had his arms wrapped around my waist, spooning me.

After I asked him what that is, he responded with a question. “Can I..?” He trailed off and I wasn’t catching on to his train of thought.

“What? you want to fuck?” I huff rolling my eyes…not that I would be against it.

“No.” He said defensively squeezing my sides. “Can I just put it in?” Matt asked shyly.

I paused, But eventually complied. With the duvet being over us it shouldn’t be too awkward. He shuffled out of his sweatpants and pulled mine down too.

And before I knew it his finger was inside of me and I was wet.

After a few moments I felt the head of his dick press against me before feeling his entire length slide into me.

I never thought he’d be into that, but even further, I didn’t think that I’d like it too.

I shift feeling the angle change.

“Y/n/n, can you stop moving.” Matt huffs, his words sounding passive aggressive. He puts one of his hands on my hips to prevent as much movement as possible, his other hand still clutching his phone.

I clench again at the tone of his voice, slamming my pen down.

Ever since that day, when this first started off, I started to sit on him more often. Whether it was while we were cuddling or just mindlessly hanging out. We’re not necessarily friends with benefits tho.

I guess he just likes the feeling… but so do I.

It was bad, like we hung out so much Chris and Nick started to make joking remarks about it.

About us hanging out so much that is, not the… whatever we’re doing.

Like it was so bad that practically every time we were alone somewhere private, I was probably sitting on his dick.

It feels so intimate and good, and if we still have time after, he’ll rail me.

But I’m saying that when we’re at home doing homework, I’m sitting on his lap. Or when cuddling or sleepovers. Or even when we go get fast food to eat in the parking lot at night. I’ll climb over the middle console and sit down on it.

I was never a skirt person, but I started to wear skirts more often just for the easier access.

I could go hours just calmly sitting on it.

But sometimes after a while I would get frustrated.

I try to grind into him, Matt still holding me in place as much as he can.

“What? You wanna get yourself off on my dick?” He huffs. His grip on my hip gets harder making me whine, while his other hand still holds his phone.

He’d been scrolling through TikTok and various other social media while I was trying to get all of my homework done.

And it’s been probably over an hour now and I was getting frustrated from all the homework. doing math first was definitely a mistake.

And while on a normal day I would be fine with the intimacy and wouldn’t be trying to get myself off, the homework today was frustrating. And since Matt was already balls deep inside of me, I might as well.

He leans over putting his phone on my desk. With the movement his hand on my hip loosens giving me the opportunity to start to slightly ride him.

“Fuck-“ i sigh. I lean forward on my arms, trying to get as much friction as I can, both on my sweet spot and also my clit.

I hear Matt’s low groan. And suddenly his hands are on my hips again, holding me in place.

“Y/n I swear, i will make you cum over and over again until you’re seeing fucking stars if you don’t fucking stop right now and go back to your homework.”

His tone is authoritative and so hot. Why was he saying that like it would be such a bad thing anyway.

“Matt please.” I whine.

Sometimes Matt would get frustrated and fuck me while I wasn’t even paying him any mind, and sometimes it was the other way around.

He huffs letting go of my hips. Matt leans back as he just watched me and my every move.

I let out a shaky breath once again, leaning forward more to lift myself better.

“Fucking slut, getting yourself off on your best friends dick.” He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

His hands go to my waist, assisting my movements now instead of stopping me.

“If you cum I’m still gonna Make you warm me.” He warns his tone assertive.

Matt holds me in place for a few seconds and scoots the chair back. I sigh leaning forward, using my forearms to prop me up, before starting to ride him again.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth dropped in a silent moan while he watches me.

He somehow seemed way less sensitive than me. But I can literally feel the knot starting to tie In My stomach just waiting to snap.

By this point I was panting and Matt was letting out some heavy breaths too.

“Fuck- Matt, Matt” I whine his name my voice pitching higher as i keep getting closer.

“You close baby?” He breaths out keeping his hands on my hips for stability.

I let out a sharp breath letting my head drop forward as I keep up the angle and speed up in order to reach my climax faster.

“Yeah.” One of my hands go down to my clit to rub it, resulting in my other arm having to hold me up alone.

“Come then.” He demands, his voice sounding cocky. I can hear him breathe heavily and bite his lip to keep quiet.

With his hands tightening on my hips, I feel the knot in my stomach snap.

I let out a loud moan, piercing through the, otherwise, mostly quiet room.

I sit down again my pussy convulsing around his cock.

I sigh, trying to calm down again. Matt’s hands rub my sides, holding my back to his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into my ear.

“You good?” He asks after I mildly catch my breath. I lean more into him, my eyes fluttering closed as I mumble an agreement.

“You gonna go back to your homework now, or…?” He trails off waiting for me to answer.

“No” I breathe out and slightly look over my shoulder to make eye contact with him.

He lets his huge grin take over his features. He picks me up gently, making me wince, to wich he whispers encouraging praises into my ear.

My back makes contact with my bed. I sigh at the feeling of the soft sheets under me. And I watch as Matt hurriedly takes off his shirt.

I was still wearing my mini skirt and a long sleeve shirt, but Matt didn’t look like he was going to take them off. The access was easy, so really, why do the extra work.

Matt rubs my lower stomach, while his other hand holds his dick. He glides it up my folds before slipping it back into me. I whine at the feeling throwing my head back into the mattress.

I’m still sensitive from my previous orgasm and also from the hour of cock warming’s

It wasn’t like he wasn’t sensitive too. I could see him physically hold back from releasing right then and there.

Our eyes stay locked while he starts to rock his hips against me. I can feel him hit that spot in me that makes pure euphoria shoot through my entire body.

Despite not being labeled, it always felt so intimate with Matt.

Maybe it was because most of the time it was literally just cock warming and nothing else. But sometimes, when it did come to the actual intercourse - penetration type of thing, it still felt intimate.

“So good for me baby.” He breaths out. Our eyes stay locked, my mouth dropped in quiet moans.

“Fuck- you like being filled?” He chuckles. His hand stays on my lower abdomen, pressing down slightly to feel himself.

I close my eyes briefly trying to respond, but the way his hips snap into me, and the way he still manages to make this feel sensual, has my head fuzzy.

“Fuck..” Matt breaths out his eyes staying locked on my face. “Too fucked out to answer now?”

All I can do is whine out his name and moan loudly, and he takes pride in that. I know he does. I can see it in his eyes.

“You wanna be fucking full all the time, don’t you baby?” Matt taunts, somehow speeding up even more.

I clench around him my legs going stiff at the constant and heavy stimulation.

Matt notices and readjusts, picking up my legs further so they’re on his shoulders before he picks up pace again.

“Close” I whine out, I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter by the second, threatening to snap anytime now.

“Good girl” he hums. Matt’s fingers find their way towards my clit as he starts to vigorously rub it.

“Oh god-“ I moan loudly throwing my head back, my eyes shutting tightly as I try not to get overwhelmed, even tho i already am.

“Eyes on me.” Matt speaks lowly also panting. His movements pick up pace getting more rough and messy, indicating that he’s close too.

My eyes snap open, immediately meeting his. And as soon as they do, I feel my body convulse, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. But despite that, I try to keep my eyes on Matt as best as I can.

“So pretty.” He breathes out harshly and before either of us know it, he gives me one last thrust and fills me up.

I pant, trying to catch my breath. I feel a thin layer of sweat coat my skin, but despite that, I love this feeling.

This post orgasmic state was sending me into almost as much euphoria as the sex itself.

I watch through lazy, heavy-lidded eyes as Matt sits up straighter, moving my legs from off of his shoulders.

“You wanna clean up or sleep like this sweetheart?” He asks tilting his head. Matt was trying to contain a goofy smile.

“Just..” I trail off and let out a breath. Damn I didn’t realize just how out of breath I am.

“Just lay down.” I breathe out.

He licks his lips his eyes wandering from my face to my body and how it’s still clothed.

“You wanna sleep with clothes, or…” he trails off. Matt’s eyes come to meet mine again with a playful glint.

“Matt, I don’t care” I say exasperated.

“I wanna cuddle?” He says like I said we wouldn’t. I huff a slight laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

Matt huffs trying and failing to hold back a smile. He gently and slowly pulls out in order to not hurt me. But I still wince from the over stimulation.

He pulls the skirt back down and than reaches for the zipper. He pulls the skirt off tossing it to the floor carelessly.

He then reaches for my long sleeve shirt. I sit up slightly so he can take that, and my bra also off.

Now being nude under him, he looks satisfied. He hums in approval and wordlessly lays down next to me, before I feel his arms go around my waist.

“You think you can warm me, baby?” He whisper sweetly into my ear. I feel a shiver run down my spine from his tone of voice. My eyes shut I take in his silk like words.

“Corse.” I breathe out pushing my hips back into him to tease him.

Matt chuckles lowly. I feel his length slide through my folds. Still being soaked in our combined juices, it was fairly easy for him to slip back in, not that it didn’t make me moan.

I felt way too sensitive, but like hell would I ever say no to this.

Matt chuckles at the low moan I let out. He has his arm spread out so I can lay on it his other arm around my waist. “You do like being full?” He asks in fake shock.

“You were the one that started this tho?” I question right back not moving at all. Simply keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the closeness and intimacy.

“Touché.”

Masterlist

A /N: sorry for being gone for so long guys. Schools been overwhelming. But yeah, I hope you guys liked this. Requests and asks are open & feedback is always appreciated 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun

[ovaryacted]

SECONDHAND SMOKE

─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant f! reader || WC: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: Waiting for Logan back at the X-Mansion, he welcomes you into his arms and enjoys his cigar with you on his lap.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUTTY. Thigh Riding. Dirty Talk. Kissing. Scent Kink. Light Oral (f receiving). Established Relationship. Older! X-Men Logan implied. Age Gap Implied [Logan looks to be in his 40s, Reader is in their 20s]. Reader is a telepath & telekinetic mutant with a human appearance. Telepathic communication. Logan is a tease and a lover boy, he uses multiple terms of endearment. They match each other's freak.

A/N: I've been meaning to upload another Logan fic especially since watching the D&W movie on Friday, and I wanted to share this with y'all. This story is also technically part of a larger idea, but that will be talked about later. I have other things planned for Logan as well for X-Men Logan, old man Logan, and variant Logan. That man is not going to be safe on my watch. Thank you to @ozarkthedog for the proofread and the motivation to keep writing for this man, and shout out to @zloshy for taking part in the aesthetics and the encouragement with the yap sessions. I adore you both. Anywho, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’ve been waiting for him all day while he was out with the rest of the leading group of X-Men, something regarding a history lesson that needed to be handled. You stayed at the mansion on Xavier’s orders, tending to the younger class of gifted mutants until the veterans arrived by nightfall. To keep yourself occupied, you perused the many books Logan kept on his shelf towards the far end of his bedroom, picking up a well-loved novel from Hemingway to delve into. 

Carefully turning the pages, the wording and storytelling entranced you, each paragraph manifesting into visions that played in your head like a live-action film. Half of your senses remained in the book while the other listened for the familiar creaks of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hallway.

You sensed him before you saw him. Halfway into the book, you lift your head at the sound of the door opening, spotting Logan standing by the threshold of the room’s entryway. Closing the door behind him, he steps towards where you sat on his bed, holding your chin upwards to face him. Bending forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips, followed by a content sigh that made a smile creep up on your face.

“Hey,” you said, meeting Logan’s softened gaze as he moved away from you to the other side of the room, plopping down on the leather armchair in a heap. He exhaled heavily through his nose, throwing his head back along the edge of the chair. “Long day?”

“The fucking longest,” Logan grumbled, his brow bone creasing before he relaxed.

“I thought you liked hanging out with Scott?” you questioned, the end of your voice trailing off into a playful tease as you sat up on the mattress.

“Sweetheart, that man has a pretentious stick up his ass. You couldn’t pay me to spend time with him.” You laughed at his mild irritation, knowing Logan’s faux vexation towards his friend was a facade to cover his true feelings of fondness.

Reaching for a box of cigars to his right, Logan clipped the cap off a fresh one and popped it between his lips, holding it by his teeth. He glanced at you, the corner of his lips curling up in a mischievous grin.

“Come here, you gotta light this for me.”

With a smile, you obliged, quickly rising on your feet and striding to where he sat in the chair, swinging your legs around to situate yourself over his denim-clad lap. Straightening your back, your eyes briefly flashed black as you materialized the metal lighter from its place on the bookshelf before Logan, flicking the spark wheel until the red flame brightened his chin. The foot end of the cigar sizzled as it burnt to ash, the familiar scent of finely aged tobacco filled your nose as he drew in his first breath.

“Sneaky.” He mumbled around the cigar, taking a harsh pull of air before curling his fingers to hold it, huffing the smoke out on the next exhale.

“I call it being efficient.” You grinned to yourself, accepting the reciprocated hum rumbling through Logan’s broad chest. Your fingers skimmed his collarbones that peeked through the white tank under his flannel, admiring the bob of his throat and the steady rise of his body whenever he breathed.

“What were you up to in here? Snooping through my shit?” His sight darted to the burgundy button-down you wore, ending right at the top of your bare thighs. He brought his free hand to caress your leg, running circles over your skin and feeling you shiver slightly under him. “I was looking for this shirt last week, you know?”

“First off, this was gifted to me,” you stated with a roll of your eyes, smacking Logan across the chest and forcing a dry chuckle out of him. “And secondly, I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying you missed me?”

“Surprisingly, I did.” You sneaked your other hand towards Logan’s neck, curling your fingers around the thick hair at his nape. He almost purred at the touch, smoking his cigar and looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Besides, it’s nice and quiet here. You also gave me permission to be here for your information.” 

Since dating Logan, it has been a slow start to accomplishing milestones for either of you, taking things one step at a time to avoid scaring the other off. Now that things have been good between you, he gave you free reign to be in his bedroom at the mansion, usually spending the day here for some solace or sleeping in his bed instead of yours on the other side of the estate. On a mental note, he intended to make your presence in his life more permanent.

“Damn, I forgot I gave you permission to take my stuff,” Logan quipped, somehow becoming more cocky than he usually was. You loved him for it either way.

Asshole. Although you didn’t verbally say the word, he heard your voice in his mind, taking the telepathic route. His smirk widened as he took another drag of his cigar, the smoke heavy in the air as it circled the two of you.

“All yours, darlin’.” He offered you a wink, squeezing your thigh with his other hand to keep you in place, seated on his thick thighs.

You spent a few minutes talking to him, giving him a rundown of your relatively calm day and mentioning the book you read earlier. It was oddly domestic, something that most mutants would not be able to partake in, and Logan silently thanked whoever granted him the opportunity to experience it.

A comfortable silence occupied the room once Logan was halfway down his cigar. Enjoying his company, you nuzzled into his neck, taking in his natural scent. A mix of pinewood and leather filled your senses, musky and so clearly him, your belly twitched at the warmth of his body against yours. Absentmindedly, you began to litter kisses over his skin, placing a few more along the base of his throat and moving upwards to the corner of his jaw. He could smell the shift in your behavior; arousal mixing in with the lingering haze heightened his senses, and his attention was directed back to you.

“Need something?” His voice dropped an octave as he asked you, running lines up and down your leg, the sensation making you squirm.

“Need you, smartass.” Holding his face, you kissed him on the cheek and once more on the tip of his nose, reaching his lips along the way. His eyes closed at the touch, wanting nothing more than to feel the caress of your tongue and sink his teeth into your bottom lip. 

“I want you too, but I’m on my smoke break.” You were ready to pout at him before Logan adjusted your positioning, shifting you more off to the side so your pelvis sat on one of his thighs. The thickness of the denim covering the hard muscle of his leg rubbed against your underwear, a moan settling in the back of your throat at the contact.

“Get yourself off while I finish this. Promise, it’ll be worth it, hun.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, knowing what he was asking for, yet your cheeks warmed under his stare. He merely shrugged, raising an eyebrow and patiently waiting for your next move.

Doubtfully, you pivoted your hips forward, dragging yourself across the vast expanse of his thigh before drawing backward. The first few passes felt strange, but you quickly found your rhythm, rocking your hips in even thrusts. The material of his jeans rubbed just right against your panties; the thin fabric that separated your body from his added more friction to your sensitive clit. Your lower spine grew warm with Logan’s free hand idly holding your waist, calmly guiding your movements over him until he was confident you got it handled.

Logan leans back into the chair and plants his feet on the floor, giving you more leverage to work with. His keen eyes take in the way you flutter yours shut, eyebrows furrowing in concentration at getting the perfect angle and drive. He can hear your heart beating in your ribcage and can feel the pumping of your blood flowing through your veins to rush between your legs.

Muffled moans pour out of you, gripping the fabric of Logan’s shirt and tilting forward a bit more, digging your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. The secondhand smoke from his cigar amplified the incessant throbbing down South, a second pulse that pounded through your body with a need clawing at your gut. The motion of your hips grew more persistent as your slick seeped into your panties, known to Logan when his nostrils flared to catch your scent in the air.

“Feeling good, princess?” You heard his voice filtering through the light mess of your thoughts, focusing on making yourself feel good under his orders. You hummed against his neck, nodding and keeping your even pacing as you leaned into his muscular body.

“Yeah, I know it’s good. Bet your pussy is just crying for me now, probably tastes just as sweet too.” Logan’s vulgar mouth only motivated you to grind your hips harder against his leg, reminiscent of a bitch in heat the more you moved over him.

There was something erotic about getting yourself off while Logan observed and enjoyed his smoke. To him, you were quality entertainment, a sight for sore eyes after a hectic day full of learning things he was trying to retain. Your mind grew clouded, full of the many ways Logan handled you, things like this that kept you on your toes the way he knew how. Flashbacks of this morning flickered before your eyes, reminiscing the feel of his tongue slipping inside you and his bicep tucked under your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Logan could picture it too, traces of your daydreams passing by in his head, instances where he made you feel so good you had nothing left to give. He wonders how wet you are, could taste your cunt on the back of his tongue, missing it since he left you with a weary grin on your face as you slept in his bed. He hopes you stained the worn denim that separated the two of you and prays that you leave your mark on him, no matter how temporary.

“Getting close?” he asked. He didn’t hear you respond, but your voice remained floating in the confines of his skull.

Yes. Fuck yes. So close. Fuck me. Fuck me. Please.

“I will sugar, promise I will.” His hand ran up the curve of your spine and gently curled around your neck, pulling you backward to hold his gaze. Your glossed-over pupils dilated at the sight of him, irises darkening and filling with ink. The embodiment of your powers made him curious at first, with blackened eyes at the indication of specific actions, but he quickly got used to seeing the signs every time he made you fall over the edge.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Make a mess on my jeans, and I swear I’ll treat your pussy the way she deserves, the way she needs. Let me feel it.”

Logan. Logan. Logan.

“Fuuuck…” You whined under your breath, doing three more harsh passes over his thigh before your body abruptly tensed, legs shaking and pressing into his hard body as the wave slammed over you. Mind clear and body lax, you hummed against Logan’s throat, pulse thumping against your lips as you placed a light kiss.

He took one last pull of his cigar before smudging it into the ashtray on the end table to his left, ideally saving whatever was left of it for after he fucks you. Wrapping his thick arms around you, he brings you closer to him, pulling your hips over his to hover over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Need something?” you taunted, parroting his earlier words with equal tone and sarcasm.

“Yeah. Need to clean up the mess you made.”

Crashing into your lips, he kissed you deeply for the first time that night, curling his tongue around yours in affectionate swirls and releasing an audible groan. Holding you close, he stood up on his feet and picked you up with ease, strolling towards the bed in three strides. Lighthearted giggles tumbled out of you, making Logan’s heart beat in tandem with yours. The sides of his face creased as he mimicked your smile, tugging hastily at your sodden underwear and tossing them to the side. Rough fingers curled around the soft flesh of your thigh, parting your legs to admire his handiwork as he heard your voice in his head again.

Greedy.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” As if to prove your point, he licked a broad stripe up the length of your cunt, your wetness coating his tongue as he placed a complimentary kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, re-igniting the fire he started.

 “Now be good and let your old man have a taste.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[mottemotte]

true suffering is finding a lot of old monster high/ever after high dolls for like $5 each at the antique store and not being able to buy any of them bc ur with ur normie irl friend and u cant just say 'i want to get back into doll customizing so i can make my homestuck blorbos into dolls but fsr i have all my old supplies but i tossed out all my blank dolls' so u have to just walk past them and cry silently

[kiwi-bitchez]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Thinking about reader finally stumbling onto one of the dogs shifted into their human form. Maybe Soap raiding the cabinets in the kitchen for a late night snack? Reader obviously freaks tf out about a whole ass man in their house... but the rest of the force are still in their dog forms. Reader's confused why their once very protective dogs are completely okay with this strange man in their house, and why this man is claiming to be one of her dogs.

(Note that these answers are non-linear! I’ll be having fun with a few more asks/requests as if this hasn’t happened yet 😉)

All you wanted was some water to ease the dryness in your throat, but as soon as they noticed you picking up your phone from the bedside table, the dogs kept tugging at your clothes to hold you back—something they never did. You swatted them away without thinking much of it, though, too sleep-adled to think that maybe, just maybe, they were doing it for good reason.

And then you saw the man in your kitchen.

“Why are you naked.”

It wasn’t much of a question. More of a statement—or an exaggeration, really—because he wasn’t naked. He was just wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, exposing a deep V-line and a happy trail that would’ve had you drooling if not for the sheer strangeness of the circumstances. At first, you weren’t even sure if you should be afraid—because it was comedic, the way he locked eyes with you, halfway through chomping down on a spoonful of cereal from not even a bowl, but a mug.

He swallows hard, and that’s when you grab a knife—earning several barks from your dogs. At you. Not him.

“He’s literally the intruder here!” you argue back. “You bark at, like, every other guy? What about him?! He’s massive!”

“Aw, thank y—“

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

The man’s smile tightens as he slowly puts the mug and spoon down, and lifts his hands as if in surrender. 

“Easy, lass,” he continues, eyes darting between your face and the knife. “I’m a friend.”

“The fuck you are—“

“Look. Look.” He gestures back and forth between himself and the dogs, who stand in place between you two. “You’re missin’ a pup, aren’t ya? Foxhound that gets into everything? Soap? Thah’s me!”

‘Me?’ What the hell was this guy thinking? But sure enough—just as he said—Soap was missing from the group. It was just Price, Ghost, and Gaz—all tense like you. If not more so. Gaz offers a whine in negotiation, stepping forward to get you to back up a little further, away from the stranger. There’s a beg—no—an intelligent plea in the Labrador’s eyes that nearly makes you falter, unsure of reason or rhyme.

Unsure of yourself.

“That’s— that’s not possible,” you laugh nervously, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “Dogs don’t turn into people, or vice versa. Now get out of my house or I’m calling the poli—“

— “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

And now there’s a third fucking person. Standing in your kitchen. Right where Price used to be. And now the shock runs cold, adrenaline gone in place of confusion. And a quick skip through the stages of grief into acceptance.

“Well,” is all that gets out of your mouth. “Shit.”

The world spins, and everything goes black. You’re out like a light. All you see is ‘human-Price’ moving forward, then darkness, and the sensation of two arms catching you before you hit the floor.

The boys hang around until morning light after that, sitting in the living room in dead silence. At least until Gaz gives a final suggestion.

“… You think we can pass it off as a dream?”

_

Bonus Thoughts:

You do, in fact, wake up as if it were a dream. Because you’re back in bed per usual, and the house is in order, and the dogs are piled around you like nothing ever happened. You eye them all suspiciously, then slap yourself. Because what kind of weirdo imagines her pets as hot, tall, buff men? Pervert.

Meanwhile, the boys are just exchanging the quietest glances before you settle back in bed. Because for a good few seconds, they think they’ve been discovered.

Also Soap has suffered a collective *bap* from everyone because it’s what he deserves for threatening their free food supply.

[k-hotchoisan]

coming home with me

<san x fem!reader>

under the dim lights, Choi San realises that he just can’t keep this casual when it comes to you.

genre/warnings: pwp, smut, furcoat!San, is San being toxic??? I guess we’ll never know!, jealous dom! San, unprotected sex, reader is commando, car sex, fingering riding, breeding kink, spanking

a/n: ahoy!! y’alls gotta thank @bro-atz & @skteezcursed for the fic concept 😘 have been overwhelmed with life so I’m presenting this as my compensation ~

w/c: 3.1K

Under the dim lights, your eyes slowly adjust, and much to your delight, you spot the man you’ve been eye candying at a booth. Of course, you knew he was gonna be there considering you’ve been stalking his socials, and casually asking your mutual friends about his favourite hang-out spots. 

He’s cute, you think, stealing glances at him from afar, wondering how you should approach him. A coincidence? Maybe stage an accident? 

“And what’s the end goal for you with him?” You hear your friend’s voice piercing into your thoughts. 

Well, initially, it was mostly a light-hearted flirty thing. You just thought he was cute. All romance sparks started off with the thrill of liking someone. It just hadn’t reached to that point with him yet. 

“Maybe play around? I don’t know”, you reply. 

Or maybe it was just a farce to keep a certain guy off your mind. 

“You know, you don’t have to force yourself”, your friend reminds you, her palm on your hand comfortingly. “You should be direct with him.” 

You force a smile back to assure her.

“It’s fine. I’m not gonna do anything foolish.” 

You don’t notice the confused expression she’s making at your answer because now you’re thinking if you should just let things unfold naturally. Amidst your pondering, your friend’s elbow nudges you. 

“And he’s looking at you”, she says. Your eyes glance up—and she’s right—your little eye candy has seemed to catch your gaze. He smiles even though he’s on the other side of the room. You give him a small wave and he waves back. Then he gestures for you to go down to the dance floor. You’re wondering if you should too as you watch him leave his booth and down the stairs to the crowded floor. 

Unfortunately, you let the thought sit for a little too long because when you decide to leave the booth to the floor, you’ve lost him. 

Letting the flashing lights and lasers with the decent music from the DJ doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

Soon enough, your eyes filter through the people and you catch your prey. He seems to be talking to someone but he also seems to have noticed your stare before he fully turns to you. 

But as you’re steadily maneuvering the crowd to reach him, your eyes meet another man’s—sharp and all too familiar—and it seems as though he’s caught you too. 

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn away, fishing your phone from your chest, opening your phone book to speed dial.

You bring your phone up to your ear, turning away from the approaching male deliciously styled in a black fur coat walking towards you, panic obvious in your tone while your friend picks up. You look up at her from the dance floor, eyes wide. 

“Babe, you did not tell me that he was here?!” You whisper-shout. You watch your friend’s face widen her eyes before she shrugs. 

“Who the hell did you think I was referring to just now? I was talking about Choi San!” 

Choi San has had his eyes on you since you settled in your booth. He never thought he would see you out of all the clubs that existed in this town. But despite the slight scowl present on his face when he realises you’re flirting with someone else at the same level booth he is on, there’s a seed of desire that’s lodged in his heart, that maybe he has a chance. 

But first, he has to get rid of your little eye candy. 

San’s eyes trail your movements carefully—from the way you bat your eyelashes at the other male from the other booth, then to the way you stare after him as he walks down to the floor. 

How have you not noticed him yet? 

He stays put on the sofa, silently counting down how much longer it’d take for your eyes to rake over the rest of the booths to reach him. 

Unfortunately, it only leaves him frustrated, and even tenfold when you leave your seat while your eyes search for him on the dance floor. 

Guess he has to do it his way then. 

He pushes past the wave of people, still locked onto you under the dim lights

The satisfaction that floods into his brain when your eyes meet his, his ears slowly tuning out the music, and he watches the way you eyes widen when you finally take notice of him from a distance. 

And then you turn away. San cocks his eyebrow in confusion and irritation, and his footsteps towards you quicken. 

Then he stops in his tracks once more. 

Dear god, something might break today if he gets interrupted one more fucking time. 

Your attention is stolen by your little eye candy. He got to you before San could.

You’re well-aware that you’re being stared down by a certain male from your peripherals, and that certainly wasn’t stopping you from pretending that he’s part of the air molecules, although not the easiest task when he’s boring a hole into your head. 

You look back at your eye candy, plastering a pretty smile. 

The both of you sink into small talk, leaning in closer in an attempt to hear each other over the music. You’re listening to him, but your attention remains on someone else. Someone who’s not hiding that he’s stealing glances at you. 

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” You hear him ask into your ear. His arm is snaking around your waist, and your interest is waning. 

You’re ready to reject him, and you jolt slightly when you feel a bigger pair of hands slide across your back replacing the unfamiliar warmth. 

“She’s got afterparty plans”, San answers curtly. It’s an automatic response that you swallow hard when let your eyes rake over San. His hair is slicked back, letting a couple strands fall past his eyes. He’s smug with the corner of his lips curled up. Maybe it’s the confidence that you hate about him, but like a moth drawn to a flame, you can’t seem to stay away from him. 

You see the way the male tuts, then force a smile. “No worries. We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” 

You nod, already losing him in the crowd, mostly because Choi San has your full attention. 

Even under the dim lights, Choi San looks stunning. You realise you’re royally fucked when your eyes trail to the star of the show—the fact that San isn’t wearing anything underneath his fur coat. That piece of apparel somehow makes him look bigger, and it’s driving you insane. Well, if the tension escalates, he might get a surprise if you’re feeling generous enough. But right now, he’s eyeing you down like a predator, and it’s making you fall into his spell. 

His arm isn’t leaving your back. He’s leaning in closer, making sure you hear his words loud and clear in your ear. 

“That’s your type?”

You do your best to hide the effects he’s having on you—ignoring heat pooling between your thighs.

Your fingers play with the soft fur as he leans in and waits for your answer. He smells so fucking good. 

You shrug, and that only bubbles his irritation further. His grip on your waist tightens slightly.

“Answer me, darling”, he pushes, his palm sliding lower down. 

“Maybe. We had a nice chat before you cut in. Seemed like a decent person.”

San furrows his eyebrows. 

“What if he’s not a good person? Does that mean any guy that has a nice conversation with you a good person?”

His other arm is snaking around the back of your neck and he definitely feels your goosebumps. He’s forcing you to look at him. 

“San”, you huff, mentally bracing yourself from falling for his charms again. “And on what grounds do you have to be saying all of this?” 

“As your best friend?”

You scoff, with a roll of your eyes. Painful to tear away from his chiseled body just peeking out. 

San can’t seem to pinpoint it—for some reason, the interaction you had with your eye candy pricked him so much. But why? You and he have always been fooling around, leaving feelings at bay so it wouldn’t “complicate things”. But obviously after tonight, something clicked, and San is very sure he doesn’t like you to be around other men that aren’t him. 

“I’m leaving, Choi San. It’s hard to hear you with all these people around”, you make up the excuse, smacking his arm away with much reluctance, only for him to snatch you back once more. San makes sure you hear him loud and fucking clear when he leans into your ears. 

“We should go somewhere private then.”

Your moan in the kiss sets him off. Your hands trail up his bare body, and his hands are on your thighs. 

Fucking you in his car wasn’t San’s preference—he prefers a little more space— but he’s not complaining when he has you slowly unravel right before him, forced to press yourself against him even with the seat reclined and his thick erection is just shameless pressing against your body con dress. 

His fingers slip under your dress, and he groans when he feels your bare pussy—wet, puffy and just ready. 

And for some reason, it pisses him off when thought of your eye candy being the one to discover this instead of him. 

“Just how much of my buttons are you gonna push tonight, princess?” He asks rhetorically, his sharp eyes locked onto yours, trying not to snap from how wet you are.

You steady yourself on his lap, your mind slowly growing blank whenever his thick fingers graze your clit and past your sopping hole. 

“You were just begging to be fucked, huh?” San asks with his fingers circling so close to your pussy. 

“San!-“

“Tell me then: who were you hoping to fuck you stupid tonight?”

Your begs come in the forms of soft whimpers, and a sob rips from you when he plunges two thick fingers in, filling you up so fucking full.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

His fingers fucking your cunt isn’t helping you think. 

You know there’s no way around this. As much as you hated to admit, San always seemed to have the upper hand. Nonetheless, your unintentional plan had roused a side of him you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m waiting.” 

It takes almost all of your strength to focus on answering him, and it’s making you frustrated because he’s intentionally missing the spot that he knows can send you seeing the stars. 

“You”, you answer meekly.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie.” His fingers press against your g-spot, and you lean closer to his body on reflex, your hands gripping his fur coat. You could just smack the smug look off Choi San if he didn’t have two fingers stuffed in you. 

“You! Oh, fuck-” You cry out when he misses your g-spot on purpose once more. 

“Right answer, sweetie. You deserve a reward for being a good girl, hm?”

You can’t even answer. His thumb is rubbing on your clit, it sends electricity all over in the best way possible on top of his fingers hitting your sweet spots over and over again. The wet sounds of your pussy squelching only bring up the thick tension. 

“Look at you, tightening up like this. Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice drops an octave, lulling you closer to your impending orgasm. You hate the way he knows every nook and cranny of your body as if it’s his. You just really cannot escape him. 

His words continue to edge you closer. 

“Oh, that’s a good fucking girl. Keep squeezing my fingers like that. I’m the only one who makes you feel this fucking tight, right?” 

You fucking hate Choi San. 

Cream seeps past his fingers from your hole when your orgasm brings your vision to white. Your moans fill up the car when it wrecks your body in waves, your nerves flooding with pleasure over and over. 

And San isn’t letting you leave the damn car, not until you’re screaming his name. 

He’s not faring any better himself and he could just get off just by watching you cum all over him like that. 

His fingers leave your soaking cunt, slightly pruning with strings of your cum in between his fingers. While you catch your breath, San forces you to watch him lick his sticky fingers clean while his free hand shifts your fingers to his bulging erection that’s just begging to be let out. He’s grown so fucking hard that you wonder if it hurts. 

You unbutton and unzip his trousers, then push yourself to the side towards the car door to give him enough space so he’s able to fully remove his trousers. You can’t help but worry if the both of you would be caught, even though San assured you that he parked at a secluded spot. Your eyes dart to the windows, noticing how it’s beginning to grow foggy.

Oh. It’s about to get a lot more foggy. 

San’s touch pulls you out of your thoughts. Although you’ve fucked many times, the sheer fucking size of his cock never fails to make you swallow hard. 

Your hands wander up his tits as you settle back down onto his thighs. The realisation hits you then—the only clothing article Choi San has on right now is his fucking fur coat. 

He catches onto your stare and smiles in response. 

“Why? Is the thought of getting fucked by your favourite person wearing a fur coat getting you excited?”

You narrow your eyes at him, and you palm his bare, thick, and sticky cock, making San groan in reply. 

“Favourite? What makes you think you’re my favourite?” 

He chuckles and makes your heart flutter. 

“Many things, sweetheart. Just as you’re mine.”

You’re really gonna end up losing to him, huh? 

You lift your hips instead, lining up to his cockhead, and then letting San guide your hips down his fat cock, making you take him inch by inch. You bite your lip at the feeling of his cock filling you up so disgustingly good, and San has his eyes screwed shut, a strained groan leaving his lips when your warmth envelops him so fucking good. 

“That’s it. You’re so fucking warm and tight for me”, San mutters in pleasure through half-lidded eyes. 

Riding San sometimes feels too much for you, in the best fucking ways possible because he’s all the way in, and he knows that very well—how easily you get sensitive and squirmy just from sitting on his cock. 

You slowly bounce off his cock, grabbing his shoulders for leverage. He likes that you have to lean into him while he fucks you from below so he can whisper the most dirty things into your ear just to make you clench around him.

His palms slide down your ass, following the momentum of you bouncing off his cock, then landing a tight slap against your skin to hear your gasp and feel you tighten on his cock. 

The sting feels so fucking good that another slap has your pussy leaking cream all over his cock once more. 

“S-San! If you keep doing that-“ you cry, another slap to your ass making you jolt, sinking even deeper into his cock. 

“That’s your punishment for flirting with another man in front of me like that”, his voice buzzing in your ear. 

Another smack. 

Your thighs are trembling from the overstimulation. 

One more smack. 

Your mind is about to shut off. San’s cock is pressing against your g-spot with even more pressure than his fingers. 

The windows have completely fogged up.

“San, please. Oh my fucking god. Gonna fucking cum”, you whine, arms tight around his neck, intoxicated with the smell of his musk mixed with his cologne. 

San’s grunts fill your ears when your second orgasm drowns you again, your cunt pulsing uncontrollably around him, cream just pooling at the base of his cock. He groans and buries his nose into your neck, his mind fuzzy from how close his orgasm is. 

“I’m gonna cum in you. Wanna plug your pussy hole full of my cum. 

And you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl.”

“Yes, please”, you reply, much to his pleasant surprise. So his large hands hold your legs down, listening to you whine while his cock fills you up endlessly with warm and thick cum with moans escaping his lips every few seconds from how fucking good he feels. 

He pushes you off his body gently, his eyes reflecting the hearts in your glazed-out eyes. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips and he pushes his thumb past your lips. 

“Such a good fucking girl, letting me fill you up with my load. Does it feel good?”

You nod, twitching slightly from the overstimulation since he still has you stuffed full of both dick and cum. San wants to keep this sight of you in his brain forever—sucking on his finger, sweating with him post-orgasm, staring down at him with watery eyes while his cum just leaks past your puffy pussy hole even though his cock is plugging your cunt. 

San pulls you into a deep kiss, and you reciprocate it in between breathless pants and sighs. 

“Fuck. I think I’m in love”, he mutters loud enough for you to hear. 

You don’t know how to answer to that, but you feel your face flushing. He grabs the tissues stowed in the storage compartment and quickly cleans the both of you up after he lifts you off his softening cock. 

You instinctively shift to the passenger seat, and San removes his fur coat to cover you. You watch him grab a black tank top from the back seat, then fit his trousers over his thighs. 

He rolls down the windows despite the air-con running, just to rid the smell of sex.

You wrap his coat closer to you when the night breeze kisses your cheeks. 

“So, are you gonna send me home?” There’s a strange tint of hope you have that he’d decline. 

San stares at you with an expression that confuses you—one that makes you wonder if you had said something weird. Then he smiles after that. 

“You’re coming home with me, sweetheart”, San tells you as he loops his tank top over his head before he switches gear to move out. 

“It’s gonna be a long night for the both of us.” 

taglist:

@bro-atz @skteezcursed @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf  @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @haleyjoy @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @woojirang @yuyusgirl

[witchywithwhiskey]

bucky + “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

getting what you want on a rainy spring afternoon

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, fingering (f receiving), consent issues (but not really? idk), dirty talk, light degradation, kissing, teasing, banter, friends to lovers

word count: 2,500ish

a/n: thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! i had far too much fun writing these two, which is why it ended up being so long 😅 (compared to my other springtime fun ficlets anyway)!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

“Stop it.” The words were barely discernible with the way they were growled, the annoyed rumbling coming from your best friend, Bucky Barnes. Your best friend who had come over on that rainy spring afternoon to hang out and had promptly fallen asleep instead.

Though you would’ve expected yourself to be a little sleepy, given the long week you’d had, you found yourself feeling more restless than anything else. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to settle down and cuddle up against Bucky’s arm like you’d done so many times before. 

So you were left to your own devices with your best friend, who’d fallen asleep sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against your couch. He looked completely at ease on your couch while you were bored. You wanted Bucky’s attention and, for some reason you couldn’t fathom, you’d decided the best way to get it was to annoy him until he woke up. 

You’d been trailing your fingers over his bare arms and face, tickling him until his expression twisted and he grumbled in his sleep. It was immature, but you were having too much fun to stop, suppressing your giggles every time he made an unhappy sound.

Finally, you got some actual words out of him and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. Bucky sounded so cute when he was tired and grumpy. Maybe it should’ve made you stop, but instead you waited for him to fall back asleep, his soft snores joining the gentle rhythm of the rain and the hum of the movie still playing on your TV. 

Reaching up, you trailed your fingertips ever so lightly down the bridge of Bucky’s nose, skipping them off the edge before they fell to his mouth. You were surprised by how soft Bucky’s lips felt beneath your fingers, so different to the scruffy roughness of his cheeks and jaw, which seemed to be permanently covered in stubble.

Bucky’s lips parted as you were tracing them, and you yanked your hand away, turning to face the TV so you could pretend you’d only been watching the movie if he woke up. But you watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, and he seemed to be sleeping still. Then his tongue darted out to wet his lips and your face heated inexplicably. 

Suddenly, your thoughts were filled with ideas about what it would feel like to have Bucky’s mouth pressed to yours, his stubble dragging against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing your best friend kissing along your jaw and down your neck—his lips exploring even more intimate parts of your body…

Squirming in your seat and trying to ignore the heat curling through your belly, you turned fully to Bucky, watching him closely to make sure he was asleep. When you were certain hew as, you reached out, tracing his lips again with your fingertips, feeling their softness and the dampness left behind by his tongue. 

Your body warmed, and you pressed your thighs together against a pulsing ache building in your core. You didn’t want to think about your body’s reaction to touching your best friend, but you also didn’t want to stop or pull your hand away. You wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible.

So enraptured by the sight of Bucky’s mouth, you didn’t notice when his lips parted further, his raspy grumble surprising you so much you had to bite back a gasp.

“Cut it out.”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” Your reply was quick, as you pulled your hand away and leaned against his side like you were simply cuddling into him. It was normal for you to cuddle with your best friend, though you weren’t normally thinking about kissing him, or about doing other things with him, when you did.  

Unfortunately—or fortunately—your new position of leaning against his arm put your face close to Bucky’s. His mouth was right there, looking oh so enticing, and an impulsive thought popped into your mind. What if you just…brushed your lips against his? Not even fully against his mouth, just the edge of it. Could it really count as a kiss if you just brushed your lips to the corner of his mouth? 

You decided it didn’t. 

Leaning forward, your eyes fluttered closed as your lips ghosted over the stubble next to Bucky’s mouth, then connected with the softness of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat. It felt so good—his warm breath caressing your cheek and his velvety lips against the edge of yours. You could even taste the coffee he had that morning, the flavor rich and mixing with something that was entirely Bucky.

It occurred to you far too late that you were dangerously close to kissing your best friend, and you shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—especially while he was sleeping on your couch. You knew you should pull away and go back to watching the movie, pretend nothing ever happened. But what you really wanted was to press closer, to sink into Bucky’s chest and slip your tongue past his lips. 

Instead, you just hung suspended in the moment, too wrapped up in your thoughts about kissing your best friend to notice the way his breathing shifted, his body tensing like a predator’s would right before it pounced. 

Then, all at once, Bucky moved, flipping you down onto your back on the soft couch cushions and covered your body with his own, his narrow waist fitting perfectly between your thighs. His hard bulge pressed to your core, making you gasp as pleasure surged through your body, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to keep him close.

“Not doing anything, huh, doll?” Bucky rasped in a teasing voice, a wide grin on his face. “Certainly not kissing your best friend while he’s asleep, right?” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim daylight of your living room. You squirmed guiltily beneath him, but that only succeeded in grinding your heated core against his dick, making it twitch in his sweatpants.

“Bucky,” you whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists and shaking them, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Now that he was awake, you were painfully aware that your friendship was hanging by a precarious thread, but the heat flooding your body urged you to throw all caution to the wind. Still, you knew you needed to apologize for what you’d done, and you whispered, “I’m sorry,” in a small, pitiful voice.

But Bucky only grinned, ducking down and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Don’t apologize, doll,” he said in a warm, happy tone. “I’ve been awake since you started touching my face,” he pressed a kiss to your other cheek, trailing his lips down and blowing a raspberry against your jaw, which made you shriek with laughter. 

You tried to squirm away from his teasing mouth, but Bucky grabbed your hands, pulling them from his shirt and pinning them above your head. His face hovered above yours, his eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Then, a sly smirk curved his lips and his eyes darkened, your body lighting up at the expression. “Didn’t think you’d kiss me though.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and his voice went a little distant as he murmured, “Didn’t think our first kiss would be when you thought I was asleep.”

Your lips parted and it was on the tip of your tongue to apologize when his words sank in. Had Bucky just implied that he’d thought your first kiss together was inevitable? And did his words mean he’d thought about kissing you before? How long had he been thinking about kissing you?

You didn’t have time to fully form a question in response to Bucky’s words because your best friend slanted his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss. Immediately, the entire world fell away and your mind went blissfully blank—your guilt and trepidation melting into simple pleasure as you reveled in your first proper kiss with Bucky. 

Kissing your best friend felt like coming home and sinking into the safety and comfort and bliss of knowing where you belonged. The way your lips slid against Bucky’s, you knew you belonged with him—in his arms—always. It was overwhelming and delicious at the same time, and you never wanted to stop.  

“Taste so good, doll,” he rumbled, pulling away for only a second before he was diving back into your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and twining with yours. 

You moaned into him, your hips working against the bulge in his sweatpants as you writhed beneath him. Bucky groaned, trailing his hands down your arms to your sides, freeing your hands to dive into his soft brown hair. You yanked on it lightly while his hands groped your breasts in your shirt, then smoothed down your waist to grip your hips and grind himself into you.

“Bucky!” you cried, wrenching your lips from his as you clung to your best friend and writhed with him. You could feel his hard cock perfectly through the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the thin fabric of your lounge shorts. He was grinding against your clit, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck and all you felt was bliss. “Don’t stop, Bucky, please don’t stop,” you begged in a breathy voice. 

Bucky chuckled into the crook of your neck, suckling on your pulse point and groaning when you humped harder against him. “As if I could ever deprive you, doll,” he murmured, his voice warm and sweet and filling your mind with all the dirty things you could beg Bucky to do to you.

Dragging his face back to yours, you made out with Bucky, your kisses turning messy as you both got closer to the edge of your releases. Your bodies writhed together on your couch, your legs hitching around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to keep your clothed core grinding against his thick bulge. 

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna—” Your words cut off on a sharp cry as Bucky rolled his hips, fucking you into couch like he was pounding into your cunt. The friction against your needy clit was perfect, and you felt the pleasure in your body surge, coiling tighter and tighter. 

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Come all over your best friend’s bulge like the needy little thing you are.” He rocked his hips into yours, grinding his cock against your clit through your clothes, hitting the aching nub in just the way you needed.

The pleasure in your core snapped suddenly, and you let out a shrill cry as you came, your body going tight and taut as you clung to your best friend. Your legs held him close, your hands fisted in his hair while you moaned in his ear, your body shuddering beneath his bigger form while you rode out your release by grinding languorously against his bulge.

Then you heard Bucky groan into your neck, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he kept humping against you. You felt a warmth between your thighs and shivered, knowing what it was and it only turning you on more that you’d made Bucky come without either of you taking off your clothes. 

A smile curled your mouth as you humped against your best friend’s twitching cock while as he came in his pants. He was groaning into your neck and you were clinging to him, feeling every trembling shudder that wracked his broad body.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, riding out his pleasure by rubbing against your soaked core and milking every drop of come from his cock. “Fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the word and finally settling to lay on top of you as he collapsed. You lay entwined together for a long moment, simply enjoying each other. 

Then, Bucky pushed up on his hands and glanced down your bodies, where he’d made a mess of both his sweatpants and your shorts.

You couldn’t help but giggle, only laughing harder when Bucky shot you an accusatory look. “This is entirely your fault, y’know?” he grumbled, beginning to move off you carefully so he didn’t make an even bigger mess. “If you hadn’t felt so good coming under me…” 

You’d been about to make some flippant comment about how it’d feel much better if was inside you, but then Bucky shoved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, walking bare-assed over to the laundry in the hallway. He turned to you expectantly, but your eyes were too busy taking in the sight of your best friend’s cock, still half-hard and swinging between his thick thighs. 

“Are you going to help me clean up, or are you gonna make me strip you out of those filthy clothes?” Bucky asked gruffly, playfulness in his tone. 

That snapped you out of your thoughts and you pushed yourself up off the couch, sauntering over to Bucky, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down to watch the sway of your hips. Once you were standing right in front of him, you tugged your shirt off over your head and pulled your shorts off, leaving you naked in front of your best friend.

Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening as they took you in. “Christ, doll,” he muttered distractedly, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin with a greedy glint in his eyes. “You’re constantly surprising me.” 

“Well someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” you teased, pushing up onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips before you darted around him and ran into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and turned on the hot water, intent on taking a shower to clean up.

Before you could step beneath the warming spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist and he hauled you against his body. His thickening cock wedged between your ass cheeks and his breath ghosting over your cheek as he murmured into your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bucky rumbled, his hand slipping between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your soaking wet slit. “You’re mine now—and I’m going to have so much fun making my girlfriend come all over my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thrusting his fingers into your needy cunt, making your knees shake as you struggled to stay upright. 

All you could do was whimper and moan, clinging to Bucky’s arms and melting back against his chest. A smile played on your lips, though, as you realized you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—your best friend’s attention. And you knew you were going to enjoy every minute of that rainy spring afternoon with your boyfriend because Bucky, and his attention, was finally all yours.

[planetaryupscaled]

Summer Fun

Male Reader x Yeji x Yuna

Tags: 8k, cheating, oral, one-shot

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“On my way. Almost there,” I texted Yuna as I drove my car up into the Grand Josun.

“Cool. Out back by the pool,” she replied.

It was a hot Saturday in Busan. Yuna and I had been texting each other back and forth for several weeks when she texted me this morning, inviting me to a pool party at her friend’s place. While Yuna and I had run into each other in the past, this would be the first time the two of us will have ever really hung out, and what kinda guy would turn down an opportunity to hang out with bikini clad Yuna?

I knew I was close to the house by the number of cars lining along the sides of the street. I picked a place to park and walked the rest of the way to the house. I could hear the sound of music and voices of people from a few houses away. Once at the house, the door was open and I walked right in. There were a number of people I knew, or had seen at other parties, along with a number of famous celebs. If I had not been on a mission to meet Yuna, I might have been distracted by Lia as I passed her in the kitchen, looking like she had just come from the pool in a bikini. I did say a hello to a few people as I made my way outside. Once out by the pool, it did not take me long to spot Yuna, looking like a teenage boy’s wet dream as she laid on a lounge chair in a red bikini.

“Hey Yuna,” I said as I approach her. Unsure the best way to greet her, I simply sat down on the lounge chair next to her.

“Minho, you made it,” she said sounding happy I had arrived.

“If I knew you were going to be dressed like that, I would have come sooner,” I flirted.

“What? this? It’s just a bathing suit, no big deal,” she said modestly, and then added, “plus it’s never good to come too soon.”

“Touché,” I replied, happy to see her flirt back with a double entendre.

We spoke for a little while, it was hot day, so I took off my shirt and asked to borrow her sun screen. I was left in just my bathing suit and sneakers, still sitting upright as she continued to lounge. At one point I got up and got us some drinks and some waters, before returning to talk so more. Occasionally others would come by and sit with us, but for the most part the two of us were left alone.

“I was a little surprised when you first texted me. I had been trying to get Yeji to give me your number for a while.”

“Oh really? She never mentioned that when she was trying to palm you off on me.”

“She palmed me off?” I said surprised.

“Kind of,” Yuna said.

“If it means I get to hang with you, I guess it worked out for me. But why would she do that.”

“I mean, are you that surprised?” She asked.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, she does have a boyfriend, and after what happened the last time you two hung out together…” she trailed off.

“She told you about that?” I asked and Yuna nodded with big smile.

*Flashback

A group of friends had rented out a house in Busan. Since most people in the group were taking a significant other or had a regular fuck buddy in the group, and I was going as a single, I had been assigned the bedroom with two beds in it. My roommate for the long weekend was going to be Yeji, whose boyfriend was back in Itaewon. Yeji and I have had a number of mutual friends for several years, but it was not until she did her time filming MV for their next album that we started becoming friends, hanging out on set between scenes. I’d never left any ambiguity in my attraction toward her. I would flirt with her from time to time which she would often laugh off, and sometimes would even flirt back a bit, but she never asked me to stop. While it was clear she was not going to cross any line while she had a boyfriend, she also seemed to enjoy the attention I gave her. Which made my room assignment both a blessing and a curse. Staying in a room with the woman in the group I most lusted after, while also knowing that nothing was going to happen.

The first night there everything went fine and without any incidents. The next day the group of us went out on a boat for the day. As the day went on, we started drinking. While Yeji came onto the boat in jean shorts and a tied-off button-up shirt, as the day got hotter, she eventually stripped down to just her bikini. After that, I could not help but be flirty with her. She was even more receptive than usual and started flirting back with me. Even some of our friends noticed the way she seemed to be flirting back with me. Still, nothing happened between us, even as some of the couples began pairing off a bit and there was some on-and-off making out around the boat.

When we all got back to the house, everyone separated to wash off the lake water and get ready for dinner. The bathroom Yeji and I had in the house was a Jack and Jill bathroom, so we let our friends take the indoor bathroom and we volunteered to take the outdoor shower. After going inside to get some soap and towels, Yeji and I went outside. I told her she could go first, but then she suggested we share the shower since we were just rinsing off, and not going to strip down. I hesitated for a moment, mainly out of surprise of her suggestion, but I agreed. The outdoor shower didn’t have a door to it, but it did have 7ft wooden walls on three sides to help offer some privacy, but it also made it so we had to stand pretty closely together. We shared the soap and rotated being under the spray of water until Yeji was under the spray with her back to the shower head. She dipped her head back and let the water rain down on her face and hair. When she raised her head back up and opened her eyes back up, the two of us found ourselves locking eyes. It was unclear who made the first move, but suddenly, I had a firm grip on Yeji’s ass and her back was pressed up against the wall, as our lips were locked and she was sliding her tongue into my mouth.

We only made out for five minutes at most before we were snapped back to reality by the sound of friends coming out the back door to get the grill started. While it was only a few minutes, our kissing was so intense that at the moment we stop, Yeji had begun wrapping one of her long legs around mine, and I had a hand on the clasp of her bikini top. Once the realization of what happened set in, Yeji quickly got out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and went inside. I stayed in the shower and tried to let my arousal cool down before toweling off and heading over to the grill, giving Yeji some time and space to change before I headed to our room.

Yeji kept her distance from me the rest of the night. Sitting on the other end of the table from me as we ate. Then sitting on the other side of the room from me as we all played Cards and watched a movie. As the night went on, people began going to their bedrooms two by two until it was just Yeji and I left in the living room. We eventually figured we might as well go to be as well. Our bedroom was the bedroom at the end of the hallway upstairs. After the events in the shower, things began feeling even more awkward between us as we walked down the hallway with the echoes of sex noises from each bedroom door we passed. Yeji went into the bathroom and changes into her sleepwear, some short cotton shorts and a gray t-shirt. I quickly changed into some gym shorts and a muscle shirt. We both then climbed into our respective beds. In the quiet of the bedroom, we could hear the sounds of our friends engaging in carnal pleasure from down the hall.

“Minho, about earlier,” Yeji spoke up. “The kiss…”

“Don’t worry. It never happened,” I reassured her.

“But it did though.”

“It did, and I was great, but as far as anyone else is concerned it never happened.”

“So, you’re not going to tell anyone?” she asked.

“No, I won’t. Unless you tell him, Jihoon will never find out what happened.”

“Okay,” she said with a deep exhale. We then lay there in silence for a while. “What do you mean when you said it was great?”

I looked over at the other bed, there was enough light coming in the room through the window that I could see Yeji’s face and eyes looking back at me. “I think you know what I meant,” a proud smile came across her face at that, “but if we’re going to act like it never happened, we should probably stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed before rolling over in her bed. I turned and tried to close my eyes and fall asleep, but I was not tired. Between the thoughts of the kiss in my head and the sounds of sex coming from the hallway, my brain was still wide awake. Some time passed, and the harder I tried to not listen to sexual moans and tried not to think of the idol in the bed 5 feet away from me, the more my brain focused on those exact things. I was at a point where had I been laying on my back instead of my side, there would have been a large tent in the sheet I was under. I thought about sneaking into the bathroom to rub one out, but I could hear stirring coming from the bed next to mine which led me to believe Yeji was still away. I was contemplating what to do when I heard it.

“Ummff.” a soft-sounding stifled moan. However, unlike the other moans I had been hearing through the door, this one came from the other side of the room I was in. All my thoughts froze when I heard that sound. And then a minute or so later, I heard another similar moan. One that sounded like it came from someone desperately trying to not make a sound. I knew it had to come from Yeji. She must have assumed that I was asleep because unlike her, I had remained still in bed while she had been tossing and turning. I slowly, trying to not make a sound, rolled over onto my back and turned my head. I then paused for a minute, before opening my eyes slightly, just squinting as I looked to the other bed. The sheets were up to her shoulders but her knees were bent up and spread apart and the way her shoulder moved, it was obvious she was touching herself. Her eyes were shut, and was biting her lip shut. Even still, another moan escaped through her tight lips.

Watching her touch herself, had my hand moving down to my crotch and giving my hard cock a good squeeze. After another minute of watching, I soon myself stroking myself under the sheet as I watch Yeji touch herself under her bedsheet. Like Yeji, I was trying to stifle any noise coming from me. However, a groan did eventually escape my mouth. As soon as it happened, Yeji opened her eyes and looked my way, and I too was looking at her. She froze and a look of total shock came on her face, but she didn’t say anything. I saw her eyes shift, and she looked at the tent in my bedsheet with some obvious moment where I was stroking myself. Her eyes then moved back up to mine, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, I could see her arm being to move again as she looked at me.

The two of us stayed in our beds, both openly masturbating under our sheets as we looked right at each other. The sheet had moved down her body a bit because of her arm movement. I could now see her erect nipples pressing against her t-shirt. Neither one of us was trying to muffle our moans anymore. Yeji now openly moaned with her mouth wide open as she touched herself. We went for several minutes until she let out one final moan and I saw her eyes roll back, her body then began to twitch as she came all over her hand. Watching her cum, pushed me over the edge and I let out a grunt and my cock began firing into the bed sheet. When I finished blowing my load, I looked back over just in time to see the Play Dead actress pull her hand out from under the sheet. Her hand glistened in the moonlight from the slick wetness that covered it. She rubbed her hand on the bedsheet to dry it off. She then looked back over at me and saw me looking back at her.

“Goodnight,” she said with a broad, but guilty-looking smile, before rolling over to the other side of her bed and going to sleep. It took me a little longer, but I too eventually fell asleep, but it would not be for long.

I was having a very vivid dream of having sex with Yeji in the outdoor shower. We could hear all of our friends on the other side of the wooden wall that Yeji had her back against, as I held her up and was thrusting into her. Her top was off, but her bikini bottoms were just pulled to the side for my cock to enter her. I was getting ready to explode when I suddenly woke up. I was disappointed when my eyes opened, having the dream end early. I then realized why I woke up as I suddenly felt the strong need to pee. I checked my phone before getting out of bed and saw it was only a little before 6AM, I’d only been asleep for a little over three and a half hours since my masturbation session with Yeji.

I got out of the bed and took a look over to Yeji’s bed. She looked to be asleep, with the sheet now down by her waist. It was for the best since my gym shorts, sans underwear, was not doing much to hide the wood I had from my dream as I walked across the room to go to the bathroom. It took some fighting to aim my hard-on down so I could pee, but I eventually got it, and then realized just how badly I really did need to go. It seemed like the flow would almost never end. Eventually, I did finish, flush, and watched my hands. I opened up the door to head back to bed when I got startled by a person in the doorway.

“Hi,” Yeji said as she stood in front of me.

“Hi?” I replied. “Do you…?” I asked gesturing to the bathroom behind me, but she shook her head. We both stood there frozen in time, looking into each other's eyes. Just like in the shower, in an instant, we went from looking at each other to having our arms wrapped around each other as we made out. Once again, we were locking lips, and our kisses were filled with desperation and lust. I picked her up and she quickly wrapped her legs around me. I walked her over to her bed and stopped there for a minute to continue making out for a little longer before finally pushing her back so she fell onto the bed. She now lay on her back with her legs dangling off the bed.

Looking up at me, she just said, “We can’t have sex.”

“Okay,” I told her. I bent down at the waist to lean in and kiss her. As we kissed my hands moved to her hips and took hold of the waistband of her shorts. I then began dropping to my knees on the floor, and as I went down, I took her shorts down with me. She didn’t say anything until her shorts were totally off.

“We just can’t have sex,” she reiterated, but she widen her legs as said that.

“I know,” I told her, before burying my face between her cunt. Normally I like to tease and do a little bit more foreplay before going in for the main course. This time though, I had no patients for it and judging by how wet she was and the sound she made when my tongue made contact, she was not interested in being teased either. I could feel the hairs of her brunette bush brush against my nose as I ate her out. She had obviously recently trimmed down for her bathing suit. As I moved to suck on her clit, Yeji reached up and grabbed a pillow, to muffle the moans. I quickly moved, putting a finger inside of her as I moved my mouth away so I could reach up and pull the pillow away from her face.

“I don’t anyone to hear,” Yeji pleaded.

“It’s 6AM and everyone else was up late drinking and fucking, we’re the only ones awake and I really want to hear every single sound you make as I lick your pussy.” Yeji didn’t put up much of a fight. Taking the pillow back, she put it under her head so she could watch me go back to eating her out. She did not hold back from letting me hear the pleasure noises she made and the only time her sounds got muffled again was when she tightly wrapped her legs behind my neck and I had her thighs pressing against my ears. I was licking her fold and rubbing her clit when Yeji climaxed. When he did, her legs tightened around my head, smoothing my face into her drenching wet pussy. I hungrily ate her out like. There was not much in the way of skill or technique, it was just pure passion. As a result, it only took about five minutes or so before Yeji grabbed a pillow to cover her mouth and muffle the loud moans as she came. I could feel her leg that was wrapped around the back of my head shake as her pussy quivered in orgasmic bliss.

“Oh gosh, wow. That was…wow,” Yeji said as she removed the pillow and caught her breath.

“Yeah, but we’re not done yet,” I told her.

“What?”

“That round was because we needed to grit it out of our system. This time it is because it feels so fucking good and we want it,” I told her. I then moved back between her legs and began licking up all of her juices that had leaked out of her while also avoiding her pussy lips and clit. I was purposely teasing and taking my time this round. I had Yeji move to the middle of the bed so I could lay down on it as well while I tongued her vulva. I started off kissing and licking up and down her thighs. Yeji put up no argument or fight to what I was doing. She just laid back and enjoyed the feeling. I took my time with her, and when I finally did move to her pussy, she all but melted for me, letting out a long moan, she relaxed to the point that her body was basically mine to do what I want with.

Yeji was bottomless, but she still had her t-shirt on. As I started licking her, my eyes looked up her body. I could see her hard nipples tenting her t-shirt, and I decided that it was time for that to go. I moved my right hand up her stomach and slid it under her shirt. My hand placed her breast and gave it a squeeze. I heard the idol suck in her breath as I have her a squeeze, followed by a soft moan. I played with her tit for another seconds before I tried pushing her shirt up to expose her breasts. She got a little frustrated with my fumbling hand and finally yanked her shirt off and threw it to the floor. I now had her naked on the bed, with my head between her legs and my hand on her tit. I tried to focus on her mound, but my eyes could not stop looking at her soft looking perky breasts. Eventually, my hand and mouth switched places. I now fingered her as I sucked on her nipple. I alternated from her right to left breast for several minutes, occasionally breaking things up by kissing her mouth.

I toyed with her a bit, working her near the brink of orgasm before pulling back a bit. I worked her for nearly 30 minutes before Yeji finally could not take it anymore. This time when she reached the bring, her hand reached down and held my hand in place and she humped my fingers as her other hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss. When she came her orgasmic cries were muffled by my mouth as we made out. We kissed throughout her orgasm, and as she died down, I moved my lips off hers and began kissing her neck before moving back down until I was enjoying her hard nipples once again. We laid in bed for a little while before she spoke up again.

“I guess, it’s my turn now to return the favor” she said.

“Only if you want to,” I told her. I wanted her to do it, desperately, but I didn’t want to pressure her.

“I want to,” she confirmed. I then felt her hand pet my crotch. “I really want to.”

I then sat up and Yeji got up off of the bed. Just like my first round of oral on her, Yeji got down on her knees on the floor next to the bed. I took off my shirt and moved to the edge of the bed. I thought about removing my shorts, but decided I rather watch her remove them. Once I was sitting on the edge of the bed, Yeji’s eyes moved from looking into mine, down to the obvious tenting in my shorts. Her tongue lightly grazed her lips before she gave a lip bite and reached out for the waist band of my shorts. She slowly pulled them down. More and more of my balls and shaft became exposed, and once she got the, bellow my tip my erection sprang up and slap her chin.

“Oh my god, Minho? Are you joking?” She said in shock, while removing my shorts the rest of the way down my legs.

“What?” I asked with a big smile on my face.

“Your cock, it’s…wow,” she said, as she reached out and took hold of it.

“I take it you like it?” I asked as she moved it around to see it from different angle.

“What am I even supposed to do with all of it?” She asked as moved her hands around his shaft. As she spoke, she could not hide the big excited smile from her face.

“I think you have a pretty good idea of what to do with it.”

“Maybe,” she said playfully before puckering her lips and giving the tip a kiss. “How have you been able to keep this hidden?” She asked as she added a second hand to the shaft, and began to lightly stroke it.

“This weekend it’s taken a good amount of self-discipline, breathing exercises, and some strategic holding of towels and other items, to keep it hidden. I am surprised you didn’t feel it when we kissed, it was pressing up you a good amount.”

“I think I was so in my head that we were kissing I must have missed the feeling, but wow,” she said with her eyes trained on my dick. Her eyes looked up at me as her face inched towards my cock. She opened he mouth and stuck out her tongue. Just before her tongue touched my cock, she gave me a wink. She then gave along show lick to the tip before closing her mouth around it and giving it a suck. For the first two minutes she just held the base in her hands while she sucked on and swirled her tongue around the tip. Since getting to know her, I had dreamed this moment multiple times, but the dreams didn’t compare to the reality of actually having her look up at me while she had her lips tightly wrapped around my cock head.

Yeji then started taking more and more of my manhood into her mouth. Her lips stretched out a bit around my girth. She went down until she gagged a bit and pulled off my cock a bit. Though she was undeterred. She tried going down further a few more times, but each time she got to the same spot she would start to gag. Yeji then pulled off my cock and gasped.

“I can usually take Jihoon’s whole cock in my mouth,” she said.

“I guess I’m just a little bit bigger than him,” I said with a smirk.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “Thicker too,” she added.

“Don’t worry about trying to deep throat, what you were doing felt really good,”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Hearing that what she was doing felt good seemed to give Yeji a spike of confidence as she shorted giving a more energetic blow job with zero hesitancy at all. She began moving her hand up and down my shaft while she alternated between boring her head along the top half of my shaft, and using her tongue to lick, flick and swirl around the top of my dick. While she never moved her mouth down to them, she did spend a little time playing with my balls in one of her hands.

“I’m getting close,” I warned her. She just moaned around my cock in her mouth and kept on blowing me. After another minute, I gave another warning, “Seriously, I’m gonna cum. Where should I?”

“Where do you want to?” Yeji asked.

In that half second, I thought about picking her up on, putting her on the bed, thrust my dick in her and give her just an epic creampie. However, I knew that wasn’t an option. “I want to cover your beautiful face.”

“I should have guessed,” she said, and then went back to sucking the tip as her hand worked the shaft, really pumping it hard. It was not look after that, that the urge to blow my load became overwhelming. I couldn’t barely speak, but Yeji understood what was about to happen. She pulled her mouth off my cock and salt back a bit. She aimed the tip at her face and closed her eyes just in time as the first blast hit her just above the eye brow. As I continued to cum, she began smiling and laughing a bit as her face continued to be glazed.

“Is it normally that much?” Yeji asked when I finally finished cumming.

“Not really, you just really got me going,” I told her,

“I guess so,” she said as she wiped some cum away from near her eye. She then sucked her finger clean. “I should get cleaned up,” she said before quickly getting up and walking quickly to the bathroom. My eyes followed her ass as she walked. She never shut the door behind her, and from where I sat on the bed, I could clearly see her in the bathroom. As she bent over at the sink to wash her face, I let out a groan. She looked so good, being bent over like that. My dick had deflated a bit after cumming, then I was back to full strength now as I looked over her body. I was on autopilot as I watched her and a minute later, I found myself standing in the doorway to the bathroom, looking at her. When she finished washing her face she turned to leave and saw me standing in the doorway, and yet she still approached.

She stopped herself when she was less than a foot away from her. She was close enough that my hard cock was practically touching her. She looked up at me, and I down at her.

“We can’t have sex,” she repeated, but she did so meekly. Whatever willpower she had was clearly wavering. Had I kissed her right then, I had zero doubt in my mind we would have been having wild passionate sex within minutes. But I didn’t.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Okay,” I told her. While I may have been able to get with her, I knew if we did, she’d hate herself for doing it and she would have had some resentment for me. So, I decided to back down and hope that she breaks things off with her boyfriend in the near future and we could have all the guilt-free sex our bodies can handle as soon as that happens. I moved past her into the bathroom, both of us letting out a grown as our bodies accidentally brush up against one another, and then I shut the door behind me.

I took a shower and jerked off to release some of the tension. I then came up with an excuse to leave after breakfast and head back home. The temptation and desire would have been too strong had I stayed.

It was almost two weeks after that before I heard from Yeji again. And it was only via text. We texted sparingly a few times over the course of a few weeks. Then one day she texted me to let me know that she had been talking to Yuna about me, and she was going to try to set us up.

*End of flashback

“How detailed did she get,” I asked.

“She was pretty vivid with her details,” Yuna replied.

“Really? I didn’t think she’d ever talk about it.”

“Oh she talked for quite a while about it,” Yuna said. The tone of her voice was both playful and flirty. With my mind thinking about the activities of that night, and knowing Yuna knew all the details and then agreed to meet me was getting me aroused. I adjusted myself in my swim shorts, making she see my dick went down the leg of my shorts rather than have me pitch a tent in them. As I sat back down, and looked at Yuna and even through her sunglasses I could see her eyes look down at my crotch. I then moved a little to make sure I was sitting so I was sitting directly facing Yuna.

We continued to talk for a while, with the Yeji topic being dropped and we got to know each other a little more. Yuna continued to be a little flirty, and she looked so sexy in her bikini that my heart rate was elevated. I then decided to pull a Hail Mary that I had tried four or five times with success. As we sat there sitting and talking, I slowly began working the pant leg of my swimsuit up higher and higher on my thigh. I did it slowly over about 10 minutes or so, as we continued to chat.

“So, what are your plans after this,” she asked.

“I don’t know, I have not really thought that far,” I suddenly saw her jaw drop as I talked, “I didn’t really…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” she interrupted. “But umm..”

“What?”

“Ah, I don’t know how else to say this, but I can see your dick,” she said. I knew she could. I was sitting facing right at her, and I have rolled up the leg of my shorts just enough that she could clearly see my cock head is she looked down between my legs, meanwhile it was covered up from anyone who did not have a direct line-of-sight up my shorts.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” I said acting like it was an accident.

“It’s fine, it happens,” she said.

“Guy’s cocks poking out of the bottom of their shorts is something that happens regularly to you?”

“Well, no. Not really,” Yuna laughed.

“That better?” I asked as I rolled my short legs back down.

“I don’t know, I didn’t mind the view before.”

“I can put it back out if you’d like, I don’t mind,” I told her.

“Tempting, but probably safer for you not to be hanging out like that,” she replied.

“Safer for who?” I asked. Yuna blushed and took a sip of her drink. We were silent for a minute or so, and then Yuna spoke up.

“One more question, about what I just saw.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Were you fully hard.”

“Honestly?” I asked, and Yuna nodded, “Like steel.”

“Why?”

“Are you joking? Look at you,” I told her. “God, I have to control myself when I just see you smile, and now here you are in that bikini. I’m not made of stone,” I explained.

“Plus, I brought up that night with Yeji,” she added.

“Yes, that didn’t help settle me down much.”

“I’m going to take a quick dip in the pool to cool off and then get a refill,” she said showing off her empty glass. “Care to join me?”

“I’d love to, but maybe I should stay here for a minute and get things a little under control before getting up. I’ll catch up in a minute,”

“Smart,” Yuna said as she got up and touched my shoulder as she walked past me. I did not even try to hide as I turned my head and looked at her ass after she walked by. Yuna looked back over her shoulder and caught me looking. She then gave a little booty wiggle in my direction before disappearing out of view. Seeing her smiling over her shoulder as she gave that shake probably added an extra two minutes to my cool down period before I could standup without the pronounced outline of an erection in my shorts.

I sat in the chair for a few minutes, trying hard not to think about Yuna or Yeji so that the swelling in my shorts would go down. When I felt confident about enough about standing up, I did so and then make my way to the pool to find Yuna. When I exposed myself, I didn’t expect that she’d become so overcome by lust she’d jump on me right on the lounge chair. It was more just about getting the idea in her head. The most important thing was that she did not freak out or get offended, instead she continued to flirt with me before she left. And she even looked back at me when she left. So at minimum she was fine with it, and there was a chance she was more than fine with what she saw.

I walked around the pool for a little bit, then headed inside to use the bathroom before resuming my search for Yuna. Eventually I found her in the kitchen talking with a few people. She was still only dressed in her bikini and sunglasses. As soon as she saw me, she excused herself from their conversation and walked to me.

“You’re looking a little more relaxed,” she said with her eyes darting down to my crotch before looking back up at me.

“Yeah, well, who knows how long that will last now that I am back talking with you,” I flirted.

“Maybe we should get you somewhere a little less crowded so you don’t embarrass yourself,” she flirted back.

“Good idea. Any suggestions?” I asked.

“Well…” she said as she thought. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No,” I admitted. “Honestly, I’m not even sure whose house this is.”

“Oh, well, then do you want to check out the rest of it, snoop around a bit?”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

It was a really nice house, and a good size mini mansion as well. I probably would have enjoyed exploring the house if I didn’t have other thoughts clouding my brain. She led the way and we quickly found ourselves going up stairs. As soon as we got up there, I grabbed her arm to pull her to me and I moved my hand behind her head as I went in for a kiss. Even though I moved suddenly, there was zero hesitation from Yuna as she immediately kissed me back and wrapped her arms around me. We started making out passionately in the hallway, before eventually we started to move again. We continued to make out as we fumbled around trying to find a room to get into for some privacy. The first door we got to was a closet. The next door was locked. The third door Yuna had her back to and nearly fell backward as I opened the door. We were both thankful that the room appeared to be a guest bedroom. I kicked the door shut behind me and then turned to flip the lock on the door knob. Once locked I turned back to Yuna and lifted her up in my arms. We resumed kissing until I had walked us close enough to the bed that I could toss her on it. She quickly moved to the center of the bed, and I pounced on top of her. Our lips locked once again. Now on top of her, I had no doubt she could feel how hard I am as it was pressing firmly against her.

After a few more minutes, I could not take it anymore. While I was loving being there, making out with a woman I had lusted over for years from afar, I was now too horny. I pulled away from Yuna’s lips and looked down at her. I could see the same overwhelming lust in her eyes that I was feeling. I could sense she wanted the same thing I want.

“Yeah?” Was all I asked.

“Yeah,” she answered confidently. After that I didn’t even bother stripping off my clothes or taking the time to take hers off. I was eager, I simply slid up the leg of my swim trucks to my crotch to uncover my dick and ball, and then I simply hooked her bikini bottom and pulled them to the side. As I exposed her shaved pussy, my finger could feel how wet she was and also the heat emanating from between her legs.

I lined myself up, and even just feeling her soft wet lips against the tip of my cock was enough to get me to let out a slight moan. I looked her in the eye and she gave me a head nod. With that I quickly thrusted the first two third of my cock into her. Yuna let out a grunt as she felt me suddenly enter her. I pulled out some, before thrusting forward again and pushing my full cock into her. I then paused. I wanted to take stock of where I was at that moment. I wanted to save the memory of her face looking up at me, and the feeling of her warm, wet pussy tightly squeezing my manhood.

I wish I could say I rocked her world after that. That I showed of my stamina, and some moves that I had learned over the years. Instead, three minutes after entering her, I found myself announcing. “Jesus, I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too,” she said which shocked me. I kept thrusting until I could not hold back any longer. At the last possible second, I pulled out and my dick erupted all over her toned stomach. I grunted as came all over her, and Yuna let out a long loud moan as she came as well. When I finished summing, I leaned down and kissed her, and as I moved my body off of hers, I began moving my lips from hers to along her neck and collarbone. Eventually the two of were laying side by side. Yuna was the first of us to speak.

“I’m not usually that fast,” she confessed.

“Me neither,” I told her. “I just… I’ve been fantasizing about doing that with you for so long, and you’re so beautiful. I just kind of loss control.”

“That’s sweet,” she said with a laugh. ‘That’s not what I meant thought. Although, yes, that was a pretty fast climax for me as well.” She then turned onto her side and looked at me. “I meant I don’t usually hop into bed with person I just met.”

“Oh, okay. Me neither.” I told her. “Though it’s not for lack of trying.” Yuna laughed at my joke. When she finished laughing, she looked down at her stomach which was coated in cum. She grabbed a blanket that was on the bed and began cleaning herself off.

“I’m surprised you didn’t finish inside of me.”

“Me too. God knows I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t know if you wanted me to, and I didn’t want you storming off all mad. And also, because I didn’t want to cum in you yet.”

“Why’s that?” She asked as she tossed the cum stained blanket to the floor.

“Because then I wouldn’t have been able to do this,” I said a quickly got on top of her again, and then moved down her body. Her bikini bottoms were still pulled to the side, but I lifted her legs up and pulled her bottoms off. Once she was bottomless, I put her legs over my shoulders and pushed my face down between her legs. Once again, I skipped my usual teasing, and got right to the point. I might have wanted to taste her more than she even wanted me to go down on her, so I immediately tasted and attacked her pussy with my lips and tongue. Yuna gripped the sheets as I ate her out like I’d been on a hunger fast for the last week.

“Oh wow, Yeji was right,” Yuna moaned.

“Right about what?” I asked between licks.

“That you’re good with her tongue.”

“She said that?”

“She said a lot of things. But mostly it was about how she didn’t know just how good receiving oral could be until you did it to her.” Hearing that was a major confidence boost, but also made me think about how the second she and Jihoon break up, I am going to wreck that girl. Just take multiple days off of work, and do things to her that would make her forget about every guy she’d ever dated. But until then, I had Yuna to please.

“Well, I guess I have a lot to live up to then,” I said as I moved two fingers inside of the idol and began rubbing and feeling for that G-spot. While Yeji had tried to hide her pleasurable moans at first, Yuna never did. It didn’t matter that we were in a house full of guests, that for all we knew could have all been right outside listening in, she moaned and acted as though we were in an empty home. And with each sound from her lips and movement from her body, it only encouraged me to do more, which made her react even more.

I had my tongue on her clit as I fingered her when she came. When I heard her orgasmic moans, I pulled my face away to watch her reaction to climaxing. Seeing Yuna’s O-face was one of the most erotic face I’d ever seen in my life. When she recovered and opened her eyes to see me looking down at her, she sprung upright and wrapped an arm behind my head to pull me in for a kiss. My face was still sloppy wet with her pussy juices. The two of us made out, me on my knees and her sitting up. As we kissed, my hand traveled to her handful sized arrest and I could feel her hard nipple pressing through the fabric of her top. I kept feeling up Yuna as we kissed until she suddenly pulled away. She didn’t say anything, but she had a big happy smile on her face as she reached behind her back and untied her bikini and ripped her top off completely. She now laid on the bed fully nude.

“Gezz Yuna, it there any part of you that isn’t immaculate?” I asked as I studied her small breasts that were incredibly perky.

“Speaking of immaculate,” Yuna said as she reached down and took hold of my cock. “Feels like someone is ready to go again.”

“Oh, I’ve ready to go since the last round ended, I just wanted to make sure I got a chance to taste your pussy before we got too far along.”

“Well, I hope it was worth it,” she said as she stroked me.

“It was better than I dreamed it would be.”

“You’re such a sweet talker,” she said and then pulled me down to her for a kiss. After breaking the kiss, she told me, “Now roll over, I want to ride this beast.”

I pushed off my shorts and laid on my back, and Yuna quickly pounced on top of me. My hard cock desperate for attention as she straddled me with her pussy just barely hovering over me. She looked down at me, and move her dangling hair back behind her. She bit her lip for a second as we just looked at each other, then she suddenly dropped down and let out a grunting moan as her pussy was once again stretched out by my hard cock.

“Don’t move,” she told me, as she bent down to kiss me. She did not move her hips at all as we made out for the first few minutes. Instead, she just soaked while we kissed. She felt to warm, wet and tight while wrapped around my cock, and the feeling only got better as she began to move her hips. Her lips were still attached to mine while she rolled her hips along my shaft. She let out a moan as my hands went to her breasts and began playing with her sensitive hard nipples. Eventually I just pulled her forward so that I could suck on her tantalizing nipples.

She moved slowly for a while, really drawing things out as she rode me, but as time passed, she began moving faster. And as her orgasm started to build, Yuna began moving her body faster and faster. Eventually, sitting up straight and putting her hands down on my chest for leverage. Her eyes locked in on mine for the next several minutes until she was on the brink of climax. When it finally hit her eyes went wide and as did her mouth. Yuna stopped moving and let out a long loud moan as she came once again. She closed her eyes and her hands move up her breast and she squeezed her nipples a bit as orgasmed. As the sensation started to die down, she slumped down and kissed me once again. Even when she stopped kissing me, she remained on top of me, with her hands brushing against her hard nipples.

“Can we switch to doggy,” I asked between kisses.

“You tired of kissing me?” She said, pulling away sounding disappointed.

“What? No,” I replied defensively. “I’ve just spent a lot of time today admiring your ass that…”

“I’m messing with you,” she said playfully with a smile. “You’re not the first guy who's wanted to check out my ass as we have sex.”

Yuna then got off him, and got onto her hands and knees. Moving behind her, I was greeted to the immaculate site of her nude ass on full display for me, and depending on the angle I looked I could all see her wet pussy peeking out underneath, begging to be penetrated once again. I reached out and gave both her cheeks a few nice had squeezes before moving my hands to her hips. Once again, I have an initial hard deep thrust, during my cock inside of her which she seemed to love.

I knew I was not going to last too much longer as soon as we started doggy, but I Madde the most of the experience. Admiring her great ass, and taking in the site of how her ass shook with each time I thrust into her. I made sure to also reach under her and I alternate between playing with her nipple and her clit while railing her from behind. Yuna also did not help me stay under control as she moved her body as well. Rolling her hips so her whole body seemed to move in a wave with her ass pushing back to me each time to meet my cock as I pushed forward. I could only hold out for so long before I could not hold back any longer.

“If you wanted me to finish inside you before, you’re about to get your wish,” I told her.

“Umm, yes do it,” she moaned, but then suddenly she changed her mind and yell, “Wait! No! Don’t!” Yuna then quickly spun around and faced me. Or more to the point, faced my cock. “Do it on my face,” she told me.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I love it,” she replied. Hearing that Yuna loved receiving facials was mind-blowing, and I was all too willing to acquiesce to her request. I gave my shaft a few strokes, and that it was all it took before I began firing ropes of jizz all over the most beautiful face I’d ever seen. Yuna looked to be very happy when I finished with streaks of cum all across her face. She then asked, “How do I look?”

“Sexy as fuck,” I replied honestly. “Though, what caused the change of heart on where you wanted me to cum?”

“I remembered Yeji said you went down on her for over a half an hour when you two got together, and I wanted to see if I could get you to double that for me.”

“Oh, I’d be more than will,” I told her. “But we should probably go to your place or mine if we’re going to do that.”

“Good call,” she said and then gave me a kiss on the cheek. Some of my own cum pressed on my face when she did so. She then got up and made her way to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, but as she did so, she passed a mirror. She momentarily stopped in front of the mirror and looked at her cum covered face. She gave a quick kissy face pose to the mirror followed by another silly tongue out pose, before continuing on to the bathroom to get clean up.

When she came out of the bedroom I was fully dressed and just sat back and admired her naked body as she walked around the room collecting her bathing suit before putting it back on.

“Ready to go?” She asked.

“I’m ready to follow that beautiful ass wherever you want to go.”

She then reached out and took my hand and we waked towards the bedroom door together. Just before opening the door, she said, “Then come on, let’s go to my place and do some stuff that will cause Yeji to finger herself raw after I tell her about it.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

we need deadpool x oblivious gender neutral reader or him fending creeps off the reader thx :3

I’m gonna kill that fucker

A/n: AHHH I love this. Also I dreamed abt this request litcherally. Like I had a vision after I read it and fell asleep. Gif and div not mine. also this is most def not one of my best works LEVAE ME ALOME

warnings: creepy dude, mentions of murder (it’s Wade), a few suggestive mentions, your hammered, couple shenanigans !

Wade had always been protective of you even when you both were just friends, he had been protective, sheltering you from harm's way. His protectiveness got even stronger when you started dating.

And he’d be damned if he let some other random ass motherfucker look at you like that, touch you like that.

His hand was on your arm, and you took it as innocent, but he could see the discomfort on your face, even from afar. Then his hand went down to your back, you still visibly uncomfortable but not saying a word.

He wasn’t jealous, he was annoyed. Annoyed at that creep staring at you like you were his prey, like a piece of meat he needed to get his hands on. He was away from you for two seconds! 

He grumbled under his breath as he made his way back to you, both drinks still in his hands. You turned, smiling at the sight of your boyfriend. He noticed the man’s hand dropped from its place on your skin, turning to Wade.

“Who’s your friend?” Wade asked you, staring at the man with a crooked, forced smile. The man nodded at Wade, glaring at him.

“This is Micheal, Micheal this is Wade! My boyfriend.” You introduced the two to each other with a slight slur in your voice, not noticing the staring competition it seemed like the two were having at the moment.

Micheal cleared his throat, both men turning back to you. Wade wrapped an arm around you, smug smile on his face.

“Well, Micheal. You always hang around here?” He asked, glancing around the bar.

The man shrugged, Wade nodding.

“Man of few words, huh?” Wade retorted.

“I guess, yeah.” He scoffed, gripping the cup in his hands tighter.

The tension was thick, everyone could see it except you, who happily downed the rest of your drink.

“Slow down.” Wade chuckled at you, pulling you even closer into his side with a smile.

“Micheal was just telling me about- about-“ you hiccuped over your words. “About where he lives or something.”

Micheal flushed at you exposing him like that, glancing the other way, feeling Wades eyes on him.

“Is that so?” He mused, raising his eyebrows at the dark haired man.

“I mean, I’m just… here for a weekend. I was just-“

“Wondering if they could go home with you?” Wade tilted his head to the side, the man shrugged, glaring at your boyfriend.

“Can we go?” You turned to ask Wade, who nodded and you slipped out of his arms, beginning to walk towards the door slowly.

“Well, uh, Micheal, seems like they are struggling to walk at the moment…” he trailed off, watching you walk away and attempt to go to the door, stumbling around.

“So, gotta go. See you.” He pat the man hard on the back, man grimacing and sneering at Wade, watching you leave together.

He had a hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the crowded bar, and both of you walking out into the city lights.

“So, that Micheal guy….” He started, you looking up at Wade with a confused expression, not knowing why he brought the random man up.

“What about him?” You slurred out.

“Well, I mean, he’s a bit of a creep… he was like 60. I saw grey hairs on his head! And you don’t talk to hot people in bars unless you wanna bang them.” He held his hands up in defense when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I think he was just… being friendly.” You shrugged.

“Oh, you oblivious, sweet thing.” He shook his head, you frowning. “Old men are the worst, babe. Believe me.” He chuckled, frown still on your face.

“He was just… I don’t know!” You threw your hands up.

“He had his hand on your back, on your arm, he literally was about to touch your ass before I came over, what does that sound like to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Flirting! What else would it be?”

“Hm. I mean… I guess he did ask me… where I lived and if I wanted to ride with him…” you huffed, realizing he was right, recalling the words he had said earlier.

“Oh, see?! I’m gonna kill that fucker.” He exclaimed.

“You’d do that for me?” You said with a small smile.

“What makes you think I haven’t?” He raised his eyebrows, you giggling. He wasn’t really joking.

You began to turn to the side, thinking that it was the way to your house until Wade grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you in the opposite direction.

“Wade!” You complained, shoving his hand off your shirt.

“First, you’re going the wrong way, second you were about to run into a lamppost. I should be hearing, thank you Wade!” He clasped his hands together, looking up at the sky. “You’re my lifesaver, Wade!’” He mocked in a high pitched tone.

“Thank you Wade, o my Wade, how can I ever repay you?” You spoke sarcastically, giggling at the end.

“See? That’s exactly what I meant.”