#it looks so cool!!!! even better than i imagined *V*
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samuel-de-champagne-problems ¡ 3 months ago
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Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)
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Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.
Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge
Word Count: 6 K
Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)
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Down Bad
There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.
I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.
Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.
Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.
lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!
When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.
The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.
Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.
I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.
I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.
If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?
God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.
I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.
Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.
Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.
Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.
Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.
I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.
Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7
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I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.
"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."
I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.
"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."
My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"
"Shane's getting married."
"That explains the tequila."
I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.
"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."
Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."
“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."
Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."
I sighed.
“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”
I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.
"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."
Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.
Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.
Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.
"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."
Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."
"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."
Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.
But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose
The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.
"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"
I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.
"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.
He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."
He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.
"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.
"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."
Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.
"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."
"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."
I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with
heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.
"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."
"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.
"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."
Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.
As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.
“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."
"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.
"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”
Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.
“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”
I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.
Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.
“Yes.”
“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”
“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”
“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.
His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.
I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.
“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.
My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.
And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.
I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.
“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”
His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”
I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.
“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”
Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.
“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”
Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.
“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.
Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.
“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”
I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.
“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”
As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.
His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.
“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”
I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”
“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.
All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.
“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”
“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”
Spencer’s eyes shifted.
“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.
“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”
I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”
I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.
One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.
“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”
“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”
I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.
I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”
I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”
I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”
“My bed’s made.”
Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.
“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”
I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”
“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”
Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.
I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.
Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.
“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.
Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.
I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.
When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”
Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.
“You’re so thick…ah!”
“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”
His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.
It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.
Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”
His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.
“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”
Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.
His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”
I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.
It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.
“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”
My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.
“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.
His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.
The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.
I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.
“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.
“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.
“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.
God, help me. He’s my man.
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lovelivision ¡ 5 months ago
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SLEEP OVER PT.2
ʚ⁺˖⤷ part one
pairing: fushiguro toji/reader
wc: 4.8k
summary: the night carries on but you can't forget what toji promised... you're hoping he plans on following through tonight, you just need to try and not make a fool of yourself first
a/n; i finished it... sorry it took me so long to upload it, i'm completely read up on the manga now and i want to end it all but we carry on i guess
warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, dacryphilia, light pussy slapping, tease!toji, possessive!toji, fingering, cum play, big dick!toji, p in v sex, cockwarming but not really, afab!reader, no use of y/n or pronouns, nicknames used: doll, honey
MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
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The shower water runs down your body, cleaning you of the mess made, relaxing your muscles. As you wash yourself, you can’t help but wonder when ‘later’ is, what did he mean by it? Did he mean later tonight? Or later as in… a later date? You wish he had been more specific, though he was kind of preoccupied at the time so you can understand the lack of details on his part.
Before you had gotten up to shower, Toji had offered his help but you felt embarrassed accepting the offer and had told him you’d be fine on your own. Now, you kind of regret it, imagining his hard body pressed up against yours has your body getting hot, the thoughts less than innocent.
Hopping out the shower and drying yourself off, you tug on the fresh clothes, mainly the bottoms needed replacing, you feel bad for ruining his clothes and then borrowing more but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, based on his reaction to you in his clothes, you have a feeling he prefers it this way.
Walking back out into the main area you announce to Toji, “The shower’s free.”
“Ah, good, I feel gross,” his face scrunches slightly.
Smiling to yourself, you hum, “Take your time.”
He shuffles off down the hall to the bathroom, wanting to be in fresh clothes as soon as possible… maybe you should’ve let him go first… or at least let him shower with you. You feel a little bad now, in hindsight, he might’ve needed the shower more.
Pushing the thought to the back of your mind, you continue your journey into the kitchen. The brownies were too hot before so you let them cool a bit, you’re looking forward to them. It’s been a while since you made some, that’s still kind of true though, since Toji mostly made them.
You can’t help but snicker at the crispy edges, they’re honestly not that burnt. While Toji is in the shower, you cut them up and stack them onto a plate. Obviously, you have one, leaning against the bench and indulging, still yummy. Maybe you’d be a little more bothered by the toughness of them but knowing Toji made them just because of a light-hearted comment from you makes them even better.
Off in the clouds, you think about how much you adore him and his kindness to you, as well as his patience. Eyes slipping closed for a moment, you find yourself thinking about him, under you, moaning, how he spoke to you, how he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life through your clothes. It was honestly quite impressive of him.
Breath against your neck, he asks, “What you thinking about?”
His sudden closeness and low voice makes you jump and gasp, “Toji! Jesus… you scared me…”
He smiles at you, amused, “So?”
“So?” You repeat, not sure what he’s asking and getting even more lost when you notice that he’s only in a towel. It sits low on his hips, water trailing down his abs and beneath the towel. He’s completely distracting, is he talking? He might be talking…
One of his hands grabs your face, your cheeks squishing slightly with how he’s holding you and bringing your eyeline back up to look him in the eyes, “You back?”
You nod wordlessly at him.
“I asked what you were thinking about,” he asks his previous question again.
“Uhmm…” you’re feeling warm, how are you meant to tell him you were thinking about him moaning while you humped against him, “I was thinking about the brownies… they turned out good…”
His eyes watch you in a way that tells you he knows you’re lying… and poorly at that, “Are you sure?”
You try cementing your answer, sticking to your lie, but it sadly comes out more like a question, “Yes?”
Humming, he teases, “You sure you’re not having perverted thoughts ‘bout me?”
Oh god, you might pass out, “I would never… I mean I would… obviously but not just… now…”
As you stumble stupidly, he only lights up more, enjoying your obvious struggle, “You sure? You’re looking awful guilty right now, doll.” His hand lets go of your face but he’s moved in closer, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches you.
Trying to change the subject, you reach for the small bit of brownie you had left, “Try this.” You say, shoving it into his mouth.
He eats the brownie, his brows pulled up in a way that tells you he’s trying not to laugh at how flustered he got you, “You’re cute.”
“And you’re persistent,” you grumble, moving your finger to your mouth, going to lick the rest of the brownie off.
Toji’s hand reaches for you wrist stopping you, before you can process what he’s doing, he’s leaning down and sucking your fingers into his mouth. Tongue licking lightly at you, his eyes dark but playful as he watches how you turn into a sputtering mess in front of him.
He pulls back and comments, “It was good.”
“You are an unbearable–”
“–But you know, it occurs to me…” His body moves closer to yours and his hands reach for either side of your head, “…There is something else I would much rather taste right now.”
Opening your mouth, you go to call his name, tell him he’s an unbearable tease, that he embarrasses you so easily but it’s all lost on you when his mouth is crashing down onto yours. His tongue in your mouth immediately, his lips insistent, fervent, hot. He kisses you dirty and wet, it’s dizzying, he kisses you like you’re a whore and it makes your heart stutter in your chest.
His body crowds you in against the bench, leaning into you, your only choice to grab at his shoulders and try and kiss him back as passionately as he’s kissing you. He gives you a minor reprieve, his lips pulling back, both of you breathing heavy into each other’s mouths. You feel dizzy and stupid, thinking about how large and firm he is pressed up against you.
Breathlessly, you ask, “Is it later yet?”
And fuck, how can Toji possibly say no when you’re looking at him with those big, wet eyes. His kiss pulling you apart like this just makes him want to see how much more he could possibly ruin you. He curses as he tugs you down the hall after him, he’s going to give you what you both need.
In his room, he grabs the pants and boxers of his you’re wearing and tugs them off in one swift motion, “Toji!” You gasp, not expecting his speed.
“Sorry, doll but I need to hurry this along or I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he pushes you back until you fall onto his bed, bouncing lightly with the force. Body in the centre of his large bed, you hold your knees together as you jostle. He’s crawling onto the bed after you and resting on his knees, his hands on yours.
Any response you want to or could give dies on your tongue because he’s pulling your legs apart, putting you on obscene display. Eyes staring shamelessly at your wet pussy, you feel red hot and extremely embarrassed. Your hands reach for your shirt and pull it down, covering yourself, trying to retain some of your decency.
Toji growls at you, not approving of your choice, one of his own hands moving off your knees to pull your hand away, “Come on…” he groans, not moving your hand by force even though he definitely could, “Your boyfriend wants to see your pretty, little cunt.”
You whinge, “Toji… it’s embarrassing…”
“No, the fuck it isn’t…it’s fuckin hot,” he sounds pained, desperate, “Please doll…”
Slipping your hand away, you let him do as he pleases. Other hand coming off your knee, he uses both of them to bunch your shirt up your torso. His palms move along your skin, raising goose bumps in their wake, he slowly trails them back to your knees. Then he’s pulling your legs apart again, biting his lower lip as he watches your pussy, eyes stuck on you, on how your cunt twitches for him, how your arousal drools from your cunt.
“I’m putting my mouth on you,” his voice is deep, so effected by you, pussy whipped and he’s not even had you yet.
God, you feel so timid, he makes you feel inexperienced, “…Okay.”
He’s quick to lean down at your acknowledgement, he’s wet, sloppy, licking at you with no particular rhythm. He’s just desperate to taste you, he’s got you arching your back and gasping, fingers digging into the mattress. You’re biting your lip to hold back, not wanting to bother his neighbours but it’s hard when he’s making out with your cunt in such a diabolical way, almost like he’s attempting to get you to scream.
His lips wrap around your clit and suck, a gasped whine resulting from the pressure, a sound that Toji deeply appreciates, the groan he releases at the needy sound sending delicious vibrations through you. Your hips twitch, your thighs going to lock around his head, his hands hold you open. They hold you so open that if he hadn’t just switched from sucking on your clit to fucking his tongue inside your cunt, you might have cared about how lewd the display was.  
Vaguely, you’re aware of the mess he’s making, his saliva and your pussy leaking onto his bed in an absolutely debauched display, “Toji– ah– it’s messy,” you manage to force out.
He grunts into you, his nose rubbing against your clit, he’s not at all concerned with the mess, in fact, he’s fucking in love with it. Pulling back for a moment, he nips your thigh, “Mhmm let’s see just how fuckin messy you can get, doll.”
His words make your insides twist in such a filthy way, his words have an effect on you that you wish you didn’t find so delicious but unfortunately your body is a traitor and you can’t help the way your hole clenches around nothing. Something that Toji takes note of because of fucking course he does, he doesn’t say anything but he hums thoughtfully.
Grabbing higher on your thighs, he puts his mouth back on you, drinking down your slick, relishing in the taste of you. Fuck the goddamn brownies he thinks, this is what a real good sleepover needs.
Blunt nails bite into your skin, the feeling has you buzzing, your hips jerking against his face. Unaware of how you’re desperately rutting into him, seeking more friction, movements needy and so unrestrained. Pleasure addled brain not feeling shame, only Toji’s mouth, his tongue.
The sloppy sounds of him making out with your cunt filling the room, a sound that burns through you, sounding so wet, so ruined, how are you meant to make it out alive when he’s licking at you like a man on the brink of death seeking salvation. Small moans and grunts leaving him at the way you twitch and gush into his mouth, his own pleasure from this immense.
He forces your legs up and apart even wider, something you didn’t think possible, you don’t even know how you’re bending like this. Your fingers are tugging at his bed sheets, your brain fuzzy, your feet feel hot as your orgasm approaches. Gasping out to Toji as your high starts in the tips of your toes and travels up.
Your undoing is the way Toji shakes his head between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit. Your pussy seizing around his tongue, as he realises you’re cumming, he’s pulling his tongue out of you and latching his mouth onto you instead, drinking you down as you cum into his mouth.
The moan you let out is pornographic and a sound you don’t even really register as something you’re able to do. The way he’s ruined you with his mouth delights him, feeling like he’s on cloud nine at the way you sound so pathetic for him, fucked out from just this much.
He fears he’s going to want to push you so much farther, just how do you look after he’s given you so many orgasms you cry? But fuck as he looks at you in the eyes now, he thinks it wouldn’t take much to make you cry for him at all, your eyes already so so wet for him.
Suddenly he’s struck with the memory of how placid and dazed you looked after he kissed you, he’ll have to remember this for the future too. Now having plans for kissing you until you cry for him, he thinks it might be possible…yeah, looking in your eyes, he definitely feels it possible.
Leaning down over you, he kisses you deeply, just so you can taste yourself on him. Your hazy brain reciprocates, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him down into you, wanting his weight on you. Kissing him makes your heart soar, never sick of his lips, never sick of him.
Trailing kisses from your mouth to your cheek and down your jaw, he speaks into your ear, “Still want it? Or was this enough for you?”
“Never enough, Toji… always want more of you,” the words are murmured back to him, still slightly absent, floating after your orgasm.
“Greedy huh?” He teases, though he has a feeling you might actually be a needy little thing, not that he minds.
Your head tucks into his chest, “Don’t be mean…”
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
You shake your head against him, telling him no, you don’t like it.
He knows it’s a lie though, “You sure? You could’ve had me fooled…” He pulls up and back, looking down at you, his fingers sliding through your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it all over your cunt, “…Making an awful big mess for this mean man.”
Your hips wiggle against him, “Hah– Toji~”
He’s still playing with your pussy, never touching you exactly how you need him to, his fingers just grazing your clit before circling your hole and then back up, “Hmm? Need something?”
You’re reluctant but you don’t have the strength to fight him, choosing instead to give in quickly and hope he shows mercy, “You…please…”
“Me? But I’m so mean to you…” he’s smiling, frankly, too large, enjoying teasing you like this.
“That’s –hah–  true…” your words are spoken through choked gasps, Toji’s still teasing you evilly, “S-should I find ah– someone nicerrr?”
“Oh?” oh, he did not like that, “Should you find someone nicer?”
You don’t know how to reply, “I… uhm…”
“Maybe you should…” his hand slaps against your cunt lightly, the sound of your wet pussy loud in the otherwise quiet room, “But would they make you this fuckin wet? Doll, you really should be more honest with yourself.”
Through your immense embarrassment, you mutter out, “I’m sorry.”
His fingers switch to stroking at you, fingers circling your pussy hole, “I know you are, now say how horny your boyfriend makes you…”
You start off strong, “Toji, you make me…”
“What was that? Didn’t quite catch it all,” one of his fingers probes at you, pushing in slightly, he seems to have gotten distracted, “Look at the way your pussy sucks my finger in, needy fuckin thing.”
Forcing yourself, you rush out, “You make ah– mehorny, Toji~”
“Don’t I fuckin know it,” he laughs wistfully, eyes on your cunt and how his finger is gently fucking into you.
You’re getting frustrated, you want to feel full, you want him inside you, you want him to do something more. You want him to show mercy or pity or something, anything that will have him shoving his cock inside you.
“I want–”
He cuts you off, voice curt, “–Why should I care what you want? I’m mean, remember?
“No nononono, you’re so –ah nice to me, Toji. Always treating me so nicely, make me so happy,” you’re desperate but you’re also not lying.
“That so?”
Nodding your head, you add, “Mhm, yeah, make me feel so cared for.”
He sounds amused, “Changed your mind pretty quick there, doll.”
“I want you inside me,” you all but sob out.
He coos at you, “I am inside you.” His finger pumps, curling upwards, stroking your inner walls in a way that makes your stomach seize with pleasure.
Shaking your head, you whinge, “Want your –mmph.”
He’s smiling too large for someone who’s feigning ignorance, “Want my what?”
“Please fuck me, Toji,” you look at him with wet eyes, pleading with him, “please pleasepleaseplease.”
The sight of you begging for him to fuck you has him folding embarrassingly quickly but you look like you could cry and he’s suddenly not got the strength to tease you anymore. “Alright, doll,” he hushes you; you’re still pleading quietly with him.
He eases his finger out of you, his hands tugging your shirt off quickly before pulling his towel off. Leaning down, he presses soft kisses to your head, trying to make up for how worked up he got you, maybe he should’ve been nicer to you for your first official time together.
“I’m okay… I’m fine.”
He moves back to look you in the eye, “You sure?”
Nodding, “Mhm, yeah, promise,” you smile up at him and he thinks you look beautiful right now.
“Alright… Remember to breathe through it.”
And at the time that comment had seemed incredibly egotistical of him but as he’s pressing the tip of his cock into you, you understand his advice a little bit more. It wasn’t his ego talking, it was his experience and concern and you find your lungs stuttering as you struggle to intake breath as he stretches you open.
“Breathe, doll, relax,” he reminds, his thumb circling your clit, trying to get you to relax for him.
You’re practically choking his dick, your cunt fluttering around him, he can’t move the tiniest bit forward without the grip you have on him increasing. Your small moans and gasps making it difficult for him to maintain focus, he’s trying to be so careful, he knows how big he is and as much as he jokes about being mean, the absolute last thing he’d want to do is hurt you.
“Honey, you need to relax,” he’s trying to keep his tone even and soothing but he sounds strained, his focus continually drawing back to your pussy and how you’re trying so hard to take him, “Taking me so well, just breathe for me.”
His voice praising you and being so kind makes your heart ache, his free hand strokes up and down your thigh, calming. Finally, you ease up slightly and he slips deeper, the sounds you both let out are ones of relieved pleasure, the pain ebbing away. You want him deeper; your legs wrap around his waist and you tug him down into you.
You don’t get to pull him in that far, his hand moving to your pelvis and holding himself back, “Doll,” it comes out through gritted teeth, his restraint wavering, “I know it feels good –holy fuck– I know but you’re going to hurt yourself if you force it.”
You sigh out, “Wan it.”
“You think I don’t?” He snipes back.
“Wanna feel full, Toji.”
His eyes look dark, full of promise, “You will.”
It’s a process, taking all of him, he pulls his hips back and fucks you carefully on just about half his cock, taking it slow. He’s already getting lost in pleasure, it runs up his spine and into his limbs. Slowly but surely, he opens you up on his dick, eventually fucking you full of him.
The moment he bottoms out and can fully press up against you has you keening into him, your nails on his back and your legs hugging him close. Before he picks a pace, he holds steady for a moment, enjoying your skin on his, the feeling of your snug cunt wrapped around him sinfully tight. Quite frankly, he can’t move too soon, he might blow his load deep inside you before he can manage to get you to cream on his cock and that would be an awful shame.
You don’t know what he’s waiting on, he’s so fucking big inside you, tip kissing your cervix, he’s pressing up against all the most perfect spots but he’s just laying on top of you. He’s kissing your cheek and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. He’s being so tender with you and if you weren’t so desperate and dazed, you’d find it more endearing but right about now, you just want him to fuck you within an inch of your life.
Sick of the wait, you rut up into him, grinding pitifully against him, “Move…” you huff out before tacking on a pretty “please,” for good measure.
“Just a moment more, honey,” he hums, nosing at the side of your face, “Be patient.”
He’s twitching inside you and he feels so fucking hot and heavy and you’re not able to think straight. You want it so bad and he’s not giving it to you, he’s been so mean. You’re gushing around him so obscenely, your cunt drooling on him and the bed, the mess you’re making getting worse by the second but all you can think about is how good just the weight of him inside you is and if he doesn’t move you’re going to fucking cry.
Regretfully, you choke on a small sob, “I’ve been so patient though.”
Oh, and the sound of you so pathetic makes Toji nearly dump all his cum inside your tight cunt in that same second and when he pulls back to look at you the sight is no better. You’ve actually begun shedding a couple tears over him not fucking you and if he were a better man he would be ashamed over just how turned on he gets from it. But he’s not a better man, and he’s mean.
“Aw honey,” he coos at you, cruelly, “Crying over my dick?”
“Please, be nice to me?”
He kisses you hotly, tongue in your mouth, his kiss devouring and full. He nips you a little as he pulls back, “And how do I do that?”
You frown at him, somewhat exasperated and on the brink of sobbing, “Fuck. Me.”
“Anything for you, doll,” he smiles at you in an unkind way.
He says that but he’s been such a bastard and a tease tonight, you want to say something in reply about how he’s not made it feel like that but the heavy drag of his cock pulling from you and slamming back in very suddenly has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, choked moans forcing themselves from you.
The pace he sets is brutal and the sight of you going so stupid so soon has a dark chuckle leaving him, extremely pleased with himself and the state of you. Your cunt seems to love him a lot, sucking him right back in the second he leaves, he wasn’t lying earlier, you really do take him so well.
So responsive and so fucking wet, walls soft and gooey and soaked. A part of him thinks he may have died and gone to heaven because there’s no way a feeling like this exists on the awful planet he’s currently living on but then he looks down at you and hears the way you sigh and moan for him and he remembers that you are very real and he is very much alive.
Every time he pulls his dick from you and shoves it back inside, more of your slick gushes from you and onto the bed and of course he’s going to tease you for it, “Got such ah– messy pussy, doll.”
You whinge at him, not enjoying his observation but that also makes him chuckle because he didn’t mean it in a bad way. There isn’t anything about fucking you that is bad to him, you’re divine, thighs twitching and cunt fluttering on him deliciously. He’d say he could die a happy man right now but he thinks before that can happen he needs to have the sinful sight of you creaming on his cock burned into his memory.
His pace is dizzying, are you even still present? He’s in so deep it almost hurts, your head moves to the side, tears slipping from your eyes again but for completely different reasons. The pleasure you’re feeling overwhelming in more ways than just one. Is sex meant to feel like this? If it is, you’ve been doing it wrong.
Toji’s hand pulls your face back to him, “Keep your –hnng– eyes on me.”
“I ha– can’t, it’s toooo much,” you whimper to him, the sound of it making his dick twitch.
He shakes his head at you, “Be good and just do as I say.”
You’ll try, you will but keeping your eyes from rolling back is so hard and his eye contact is so intense and you’re already so fucking close to cumming like this. You see the moment Toji realises this, his eyes lighting up and his pace quickening.
“Fuck,” he curses at the way you tighten around him, it slows his pace slightly, making it harder for him to fuck you through it, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”
“Toji, I hah–”
“I know,” he grunts, “Go on, doll, soak me.”
God he sounds wrecked, his words send you over the edge and you cum all over his dick, your cunt seizing on him. Slick coating his cock, white, creamy ring forming at the base of him. His eyes lock onto the sight, enjoying the obscene display, relishing in it. It was everything he fucking wanted and more. He could make you cum on his dick for hours, just to see how sticky and messy you could make him.
The pitiful little whimpers of his name that you let out and the tears staining your cheeks have him almost cumming inside you. At the last second he pulls out and furiously jacks himself off, his dick twitching as he releases all over your pussy, aiming at your lower stomach and cunt, next time he’s going to remember to ask if he can cum inside because that’s the only thing that could’ve made this better for him. Distantly, he thinks it might not be too late to ask.
“Hey, honey…” you hum out at him and he continues, “You on birth control?”
It takes you a second, like your brain is buffering, “Mhm.”
At your answer, he begins scooping his cum up with two fingers and gently pushing it inside your perfect pussy. His attention completely and fully on the way you twitch and try to push out what he stuffs inside you. It makes you whine; you’re feeling incredibly sensitive, your legs try to close but he keeps them open, not done watching yet.
“So fuckin messy,” he comments.
You sulk out at him, “Stop.”
He laughs at your objection, “Sorry, doll.” He leans down and kisses your cheek softly; a stark contrast to how he fucks.
You’re not completely present still, fighting the urge to sleep, Toji’s bed is soft but you notice that his warmth isn’t nearby and you try to push yourself up, only half succeeding. Toji walks back into the room, sweats low on his hips and a cup of water in his hand. He helps you into a full sitting position.
“Drink this,” he hands you the cup and you take it with two hands, feeling weak and shaky. He’s smiling so fondly at you.
Quickly, he goes to the bathroom to find and dampen a washcloth. Once he’s back in the room, he cleans you up carefully, first he wipes your tear-stained cheeks, trying so hard to be gentle. Then he moves to wipe your skin of his and your own cum.
You’re still holding the now empty cup as you sit and sway slightly. He plucks it from your grasp and places it on the nightstand before discarding the washcloth. On his way back to you he finds the shirt of his you had on previously, slipping it back on you. You’re completely pliant like this, eyes barely open, he gets into bed behind you, his front to your back.
“Did such a good job,” he whispers into your ear, kissing you there.
“I think…” you lean back into him more, snuggling in, “You nearly killed me.”
“I went easy on you,” he murmurs back. It’d be funny if you thought he was joking but you have a nagging feeling that he is not.
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PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED
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serpentandlily ¡ 1 year ago
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Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst
a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part III
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 
“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”
After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 
But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 
Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 
Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 
Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 
Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 
"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."
Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 
"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."
Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.
"So why are you here?"
"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.
You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 
"You did." 
"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”
"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"
You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 
"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."
You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 
“Where are you going?”
You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 
You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 
“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”
“You still said them.” 
“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”
You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 
“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”
You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”
“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”
“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 
Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 
“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 
“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 
“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”
You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”
But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 
When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.
Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 
You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.
Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 
You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”
He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 
You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.
“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 
The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 
But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 
Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.
Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.
They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 
You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 
Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—
Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 
Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 
You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 
“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 
Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”
Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”
He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 
You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 
Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 
You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.
Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 
Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 
And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 
“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”
Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 
“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 
“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 
“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 
Rhys read from the letter out loud:
To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,
I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.
In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 
I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.
Sincerely yours,
Prince Cedric of Vallahan
Heir to the Throne
A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”
Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 
Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 
“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 
You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 
“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 
“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.
“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 
“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 
“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 
Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 
“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 
“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 
You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 
He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 
He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?
His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 
His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 
He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 
And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 
Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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sinsandsweetness ¡ 1 year ago
Text
“consequences” - part 4 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)
part 1, 2, and 3
pairing- (Rick x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+ content, age gap, smut, needy + desperate reader, sneaky sex, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, light choking, mutual pining, cream pie, poorly proofread. wc 3.9k
notes- i know this took forever, so thank you all for the patience. i rewrote this like three or four times because i just wasn’t as happy with it as i am with the first three parts. i’m pretty happy with it now but I feel it isn’t as playful as the first three. regardless, please tell me what you think:) comments and reblogs are always incredibly appreciated and your feedback means a lot to me <3 enjoy!
3 weeks.
That’s how long it took you to break him. Since that day up in your room, during the barbecue. When he was insistent on showing you how much better he could take care of you than anyone else could. 3 weeks from then is when you finally broke him. And who’d have thought it’d be in your own home, with your dad passed out on the main floor. Unaware of the downright filth happening upstairs in your bedroom. Filth that if he ever found out, would send him into cardiac arrest. Though you’re always careful, and to you, the risk is definitely worth the reward.
But it’s not like you haven’t had a couple close calls. Stolen kisses and flirty glances can’t go unnoticed forever. Your father hasn’t ever said anything. Even when he can see Rick’s hands on your waist, lingering a minute too long. Or the way you always sit right next to him. Pressed up as close as humanly possible. Practically in his lap. Well... sometimes actually in his lap. Your father’s not stupid. But, he’s also not exactly the most confrontational man. And he’s never actually caught you. There’s been no real confirmation of his suspicions. Until today that is.
After a long day of work at your dads construction site, Rick arrives at your house before any of the others. Freshly showered with a case of beer. It’s just you and him in the kitchen. Making small talk as he tries to pretend there isn’t a band of tension pulling the two of you closer and closer with every meaningless question.
“Didn’t know you were coming over,” you say, chopping up some vegetables on a cutting board. Glancing up at Rick who can’t seem to look you in the eyes. Distracted by the tiny little outfit you have on. A skirt, despite the brisk weather. A tight, fitted long sleeve that’s pushing your breasts together in the most enticing way possible. No bra. Clearly. And then there’s the best part. The part he keeps glancing down at while licking his lips and taking in a deep breath. Your thigh highs. White knit thigh high socks that make him want to pin you up against the counter and fuck you then and there.
“I uh- your dad told us to come for some drinks,” he looks up at you again, this time you’re leaning against the island, brushing your hands together to dry them off.
“So… where’s my dad then?” You ask, stepping even closer to the man. Too close, you realize at the hitch of his breath.
It’s been a really long 3 weeks.
“Uh- I imagine he got sidetracked. I know Maggie was looking for him. Probably caught up in conversation.”
“And Shane? Daryl?”
“On their way.”
“Hmm.” You hum. You’re right in front of him now. You can smell his cologne and the shampoo he uses. Damp curls forming at the base of his neck. Casual black jeans on, and a simple grey tee shirt. He places the case of beer right next to you on the counter, stepping in close so he’s pressed up against you. Trapped between his warm body and the cool marble.
You stay like that for a moment. Both of your minds going back to the night last week that you snuck out. To what happened in that truck. But more importantly what didn’t happen. What you’ve been praying would happen for weeks.
Finally he leans in, pressing a sweet little kiss to the corner of your lips before dipping lower. Breathing in your perfume.
“Missed you,” he admits into your neck. The warmth of his breath sends little pinpricks down your arms.
You breath in a quiet gasp when he kisses your neck. Warm, soft lips making their way down to your collarbone. His hands on either side of your waist, planting you against the counter.
God, you want him so bad it hurts.
Your hand goes to the back of his neck, pulling him up so his lips are forced against yours. Kissing him with the same fervor and necessity that had been building all month. Since that very first kiss in your dads garage. Since that day at the barbecue when Rick took you upstairs and showed you how much better he is at making your legs shake than Shane. Since the pool party, the day you were a complete tease and they all knew it. When Rick decided to take you down to the pool shed and teach you a lesson. You had no idea fingers could even feel that good. But Rick’s do. Everything Rick does, feels good to you.
And then, there was the night last week. The one that both of you have been thinking about every hour since.
You’d snuck out your bedroom window just to see him. To go for a drive and park on the side of the road. You kissed him til your lips were swollen and your panties were soaking through.
You know he’s wanted you from the very start. When he first met your dad and started coming over. Well before you’d ever kissed him. Showed interest in him. But that night, it hit him. How much he wants you to himself. How much he loves being alone with you. Just you. But no matter how tempted he may have seemed, he still refused to break the agreement. He still wouldn’t fuck you.
Yet.
“Rick-“ you gasp against his lips as he pulls you up onto the counter, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Skirt riding up to expose your lacy panties. You can feel him against you. How badly he wants you. How hard he is for you. How hard he’s been every night since the night you snuck out to see him. Touching himself to the thought of you, wishing he’d just fucked you then, on the side of the highway in the dead of night. Just you and him and the stars acting as the only witnesses to your risky little love affair.
“Want you,” you say against his lips, his hand starting to gently wrap around the front of your throat. His other arm pulls you in by the waist so you’re completely flush with his chest.
“Want you so bad,”
But before he can mumble a response into your mouth, both of you hear the garage door open. You both freeze. Eyes going wide, you slide off the counter, immediately pulling your skirt back to an appropriate length. Rick rubs a hand over his face, turning the other direction. Giving you a moment of privacy to get yourself situated and to deal with the tent in the front of his jeans.
Your father walks in first.
You can't even look at him. Blush so very apparent on your pretty face as you look down at the cutting board, pretending to be occupied with the assortment of vegetables. Daryl and Shane head straight for the fridge. Only giving you a smirk of acknowledgment as their gaze is darting in between you and Rick.
Your father notices. The way you won’t look him in the eye. The way Rick is nervously running a hand through his hair and how his eyes keep darting over to you. He sees it. He’s not stupid. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t say anything. He just stalks over and slaps Rick on the back with a, “thanks man, really needed this after the week we’ve had.”
Rick nods in agreement, taking a sip of the bottle your father just handed him. Rick looks over at you. Something unspoken behind his eyes that you can’t quite make out. Yeah, it’s been a long week indeed.
You don’t stay downstairs long. When Shane and your father start getting all loud and rowdy in the living room, the empty bottles of their fifth beers being knocked over onto the hardwood as their play fight begins, that’s when you decide to head upstairs with a quick wave, “g’night.” Rick is the only one who catches it. Nodding back at you as you climbed the stairs. Watching you sway your hips with every step. Skirt so short that the bottom of your ass cheeks are on full display.
You try sleeping. But every time you close your eyes you see Rick. That night in his truck. Straddling his waist and unbuckling his belt. The way he kissed you so deep. Filled with so much lust. So much need. You’d never felt that before. And even though he told you exactly how bad he wanted you, he didn’t have to. You could feel it. With every touch. Every kiss. That’s why it surprised you when you tried to go all the way and he still wanted to stop you.
“Not like this. I can’t- I'm… we’re not doin’ it like this.”
“Why?” You were out of breath, still trying at his belt but his hand came down to stop you, firmly calling your name. Grabbing your full attention to his stormy blues.
“We’re on the side of the road for christs sake. It should be- fuck. We should be at home in a real bed. Not sneaking around in some beater pickup in the middle of nowhere-”
“Rick-”
“No.”
“This is perfect.” You tried to assure him.
He sighed and pulled your forehead against his, catching your lips before mumbling, “You’re perfect.”
“I want this. I want you.”
“I know. And you have no idea how badly I want this too. But I can’t. I just- we can’t.”
He still made you come. Regardless of the fact that he wouldn’t fuck you. He wasn’t going to let you go home without a proper orgasm.
But you needed more. Needed him.
And now, laying in bed, reliving the scene in your head with your hands trailing down to your panties, you’re soaking right through. Your stomach doing backflips at the memory of his hands roaming your body in the dark.
With a frustrated groan, you sit up. Fuck. A cold shower is what you really need.
You get up and open your bedroom door, immediately met with the sight of Rick on the top step of the stairs. He’s got his index pressed to his lips when he sees you. Telling you to be quiet. Hush.
He’s smiling behind his hand. Dropping it as he reaches your bedroom door. He brings his arm up to the doorway, leaning on it. Other hand sporting a half empty bottle of beer. You wonder how many he’s had.
“They’re all passed out on the couch aren’t they?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway. Arms only inches from his chest.
“How’d you guess?”
“Well… it’s quiet, for one,” you turn around and head to your bed, sitting down and waiting for him to follow.
He does.
“And two… you’re here.” You say.
“I am.”
He sits down. A quiet moment passes and he takes another swig of beer before placing the bottle on your nightstand.
“Y’know, if you really don’t wanna sleep with me, you should probably stop inviting yourself into my bedroom. It’s sending some pretty mixed signals.”
He chuckles at your comment. “Mixed signals huh?” His hand goes to your leg, tracing the band of your thigh highs. You’re no longer wearing your skirt. Just panties, socks and an ex-boyfriend's baggy tee shirt.
“Yeah,”
“I was thinkin’ the same thing about you, sweetheart,” his hand makes its way up your thigh. His palm is rough against your smooth skin, the attention sending a jolt straight between your legs.
“How so?”
“Shane? Daryl?” He says it like it’s obvious. You fooling around with the other best friends.
“That’s different.” You look up at him now, the tiniest scowl on your face.
“How so?” His tone is soft but it’s clear he’s mocking you.
You open your mouth to respond but something stops you. Deep breath. You’re looking at his lips now. And he knows it.
“I wanted you, y’know. They’re fun and all but…“ you swallow. You need Rick. From the very start it’s been pretty obvious that you like him best. Always sitting next to him, as close as you can get. There’s just something different about Rick. The way he makes you feel. The way he was so quick to claim you. How he’s possessive and attentive and so insanely infatuated by you. It’s just… different. You can’t explain it.
“But what?” His nose is nearly touching yours at this point. One hand on your thigh and the other one reaching for your face. Thumb running across your jaw as you lean in.
You’re voice is quiet when you finally speak.
“I want you.”
He lips graze yours and you have a feeling that he heard you this time. Like, really fucking heard you. Not just the words leaving your mouth, but everything else that you’re trying to say. The way your heart is beating fast and you’re breathing is all shallowed. How he can see every nervous little tic that goes through you as he leans in to kiss you.
So he gives in. Reluctantly of course. If asking, “you sure about this?,” while peeling your panties down your legs is considered reluctant. Or worriedly whispering that “we could get caught,” while tossing your shirt across the room and leaning down to suckle at your breasts, nipping and sucking a few little love bites where no one else will see but him. Because that’s so very reluctant of him.
His hands are wrapped around your waist as he kisses down your stomach. Soft lips making their way down between your legs, propping one of your legs up and kissing your inner thigh. He takes his time, biting your leg and dragging his teeth down your sensitive skin. The action makes you whine, hands going straight to his curls.
“Rick just- c’mon,”
“Why don’t you just lay back and look pretty, huh?”
“Rick-” you’re on fire. Need pulsing through your bloodstream with every touch. His hands are holding your hips to the mattress, preventing them from squirming around. The featherlight kisses he’s peppering over your clit are bordering on the side of torture. You know he’s just trying to take his time. To savour the feeling and drag it on. Make it last and make it special. But he doesn’t realize how badly you need him to push your knees to your chest and fuck you til you’re a moaning mess.
“Rick.” You tug on his hair, trying to get him to just fuck you already. You’ve been waiting over a month for this. And judging by the arousal dripping onto your pink, cotton sheets, you definitely don’t need the foreplay.
“Maybe you’d get what you want if you used your manners a little more. Ever thought of that?” He looks up at you. And despite his words, he follows the hand urging him to come up and kiss your lips. To replace his shoulders with his hips in between your legs.
“Please,” you breath out. If manners is all he wants, then you’re a lucky girl. You’d tell him whatever he wants to hear if it mean he’ll fuck you. “Please, please, just fuck me, just-”
“God, you’re such a brat,” he cuts you off with a kiss, you’re legs instinctively wrapping around his clothed torso. And the feeling of his denim against your bare clit isn’t helping your incredibly desperate situation.
You reach for his belt mid kiss and you can tell that his instincts are telling him to stop you. To tell you that you’re dad’s downstairs and that it’s wrong. But with his forehead pressed against yours, warm breath fanning over your lips he dips down to kiss your neck. He doesn’t stop you. He lets you unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, enough to reach his cock, standing tall and eager. You tug on his tee shirt and he helps you take it off, throwing it onto the pile of both your clothes building on your floor. You pull him in close with your legs, knitted socks all soft against his bare back, almost locking him into place. Your hands are on his jaw, pulling him in as you bite his bottom lip, gently dragging it out and earning a groan. At the same time, he lines himself up with your aching cunt. He enters you slowly with a muffled moan. A gasp leaves your lips at the stretch. He’s much bigger than anyone you’ve been with. In length and in girth.
Once every thick inch is completely inside of you, he can tell that you need a minute. Your breath is caught in your throat as you adjust to his size.
Well, no going back now.
“You okay?” He asks in between kisses. Keeping his hips still as you get used to the feeling.
You nod, “Just- go slow, ok?”
You can’t help the moan that’s crawling up your throat when he does as you say. Slow, intentional movements in and out. Fuck he’s big. But fuck, does it ever feel good.
“You feel so good,” you tell him. You need to tell him. To let him know how much you love it. How much you needed it. Needed him. “Please don’t ever stop.”
His breathing is heavy. Pushing down the groans and sounds you so desperately wish he would let you hear. He’s trying so hard not to come. You’re so wet. So warm. So tight around his cock and so fucking pretty laying there underneath him. Moaning all sorts of praise.
“You’re so big,”
“Rick, yes.”
“Right there, please.”
“Feels so good,”
And your words add fuel to the fire burning inside of him. The way you’re holding onto his neck, legs locked behind his back. Lips parted in the long awaited bliss of being filled right up. Taking him so well. And he makes sure to tell you it, too.
“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good,” he kisses you again, “taking me so well.”
There’s a lot of hands. Grabbing at arms, necks, hair, faces. Whatever either of you can reach as he snaps his hips against yours. He’s done going slow. His pace is making your back arch off the bed and guttural, almost pornographic noises start to pour from your lips. Swollen and rosy and constantly catching his with every opportunity.
“Shhhh-“ Rick brings a hand up to your face. Forehead still pressed agains yours as he covers your mouth. “Gonna wake em’ up if you keep making so much noise.”
That’s not the only reason he needs you to shut up. It’s true, but it’s not the only reason.
He can’t take it. Well, at least he doesn’t think he can.
When he pulls out, your eyes go wide. No. Don’t stop. Why the hell is he stopping?
“What- oh.” your head falls back to the pillow at the feeling of his tongue on your clit. His fingers already knuckle deep and curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. Those fucking sounds you’re making are driving him crazy. But at least he knows he can last a little longer this way. Maybe make you come before he fucks you again. A little less pressure to perform when you’re already dumb from his fingers. From his tongue. From the way he’s sucking on your clit and pushing up on your thigh, fingers driving into you so hard you could scream.
You have to cover your own mouth. You know you’re being too noisy. And you also know the last thing either of you want is for your father to wake up to the sound of his daughter getting finger fucked by his best friend. By his friend who’s at least 15 years older than you. The one he’s been suspicious of for a few weeks now, over analyzing the way he looks at you. The way he listens to you. The way he brings you up and asks what you’re up to. All of it. And then earlier. The flushed faces of guilt and embarrassment when he got home in the middle of your moment.
You don’t need any kind of interruption. Anything that might put off the thing you’ve been pining for so badly for so long. But you definitely don’t need the interruption to come hurling up the stairs, drunk and careless and ready to fight.
So you bite your lip til it bleeds. A hot wave of pleasure erupts from your core, and spreads through you like a wildfire. Fuck. Those damn fingers.
Before you can even catch your breath, while your muscles are still twitching from your orgasm, his forearms find their way to either side of your face and he pushes inside of you once again.
“Ohmygod,”
You’re soaking. Both of you can hear it. The sounds of your slick, wet cunt perfectly taking every single thrust. So wet. And all for him.
“Ohmygod,” you repeat, nails raking down his back as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle to something otherworldly. Heaven or paradise or whatever utopia you can think up, couldn’t even compare. Not to this. Not to him. The way his cock kisses your cervix with every snap of his hips. The way his hands are roaming over your body. Trying to touch every square inch he can. The way he’s whispering all that dirty praise, telling you how good you feel. How wet you are for him. How fucking perfect you are. For him. The way he kisses the leg propped up on his shoulder, leaning back to admire what a mess he’s made out of his best friends daughter. So pretty and perfect. All flushed and glowing with a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest. Eyes glossed over in complete and utter ecstasy.
Nothing can compare.
“Rick, I- I-” your voice keeps catching in your throat.
“What? What is it?”
“Rick I- uh,” Ricks thumb runs over your bottom lip, dragging it out.
“I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hushed but your words don’t go unnoticed. Your grip tightens on his shoulders as his long fingers make their way down your body, pushing down on your lower stomach. It’s an intense pressure, sweet and comforting and so fucking enraptured that it brings tears to your eyes.
“God, you’re so pretty. Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock. ” He coaxes it out of you. Sultry moans leave your lips as you both reach your climax. Locking your leg around his waist as he fills you with his seed. Dipping down to press a passionate kiss to your mouth. Tongue tracing your own as his hips stutter to a stop. Heavy breathing with your chests pressed together. Thigh muscles straining from the angle but you can’t find it in you to care. Too overwhelmed by such an incredible high.
He whispers your name against your lips.
“Yeah?” You’re out of breath, doe eyes glancing up at him like he’s some kind of god.
“You are so fucking perfect.”
You know that while he means it, it’s not what he really wants to say. As if it might scare you off if he speaks the truth. If he tells you what he’s really thinking. It won’t. But he doesn’t know that.
Slowly, he pulls out of you. You can’t help but wince at the loss of contact. Leaned back on his knees, Rick tucks himself back into his jeans, forgetting all about his belt at the hypnotic sight of his cum dripping out of you. Both of you too caught up in the moment to think about a condom. And too blissed out now to find it in yourselves to care. His fingers trace through the warm liquid. You find yourself flinching at the sensitivity when he brushes over your clit.
“I’ll uh- I’ll grab a washcloth. Just- stay here, ok?”
You smile up at him. So predictably sweet and caring and clearly starting to overthink as he comes down from his high. Mind racing with “what if’s” and the overwhelming fear that you might regret it. Regret him.
But you don’t.
“Wait,” you grab his arm as he starts to stand up, heading for the bathroom to clean you up. To take care of you.
“Can we go again?”
A flash of surprise and then a wave of relief washes over his face as he sits back down.
“Jesus, kid.” He smiles and settles back in between your legs.
Right where he belongs.
-
taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @miinbun @murder-jacket @ankhmutes @grimesthinker @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @imyourbratzdoll @fanngirl19 @spidermonkey2423 @belaballs @virtualreader @darylsdix0nn @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @cavillsgirl105 @movidita @flomrpus @summergirl37
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keikikait ¡ 9 days ago
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ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
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this is part two. for part one, click here!
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 5.4k
summary: rafe reminds you of the reason why he's doing all of this in the first place
warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, drug use, smut (DUBCON/NONCON. READER IS DRUGGED WHILE HE TOUCHES HER, nipple play, masturbation (rafe jerks off while the reader is asleep PLEASE DONT LOOK AT ME)), rafe breaks into reader's house, flashback rafe is basically season 2 rafe, very slight john b x reader, drinking, rafe is obsessed, please read at your own discretion!, innocent(ish)!reader, again, stalker!rafe, manipulation, reader is still high on coke
a note: please don't look at me rn.
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
You look so beautiful, all pliant in his lap.
Rafe spends a long time just holding you, pushing your hair out of your eyes and wiping away the drool that periodically escapes your lips, all numb and tingling from the coke. His cock throbs at the sight of you, all limp and soft with blown out pupils, sitting vulnerable in his lap. You were in his arms, and you were his. His gaze travelled over you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way you were shivering. “You like that, angel?” his lips grazed your neck, nibbling softly. “I know you feel all warm and fuzzy, baby. That’s a sign of a good high.”
Your head falls against his shoulder, a soft whine escaping your lips. Rafe hums, his chest rumbling softly against your cheek. He had known that the coke would hit you hard, had been expecting it. But he was surprised by how responsive you were, how receptive you were to his touch. He rubs your hips, hands caressing you. “Shhh, angel, stay calm. Do you feel warm?”
You nod, starting to squirm in his lap. You were very warm, almost burning up, but you felt too lethargic to move. He could tell you were overheating, that the coke was making your blood run hot and your skin feel cold. He glances down to where he could see under the V-neck of the T-shirt he’d given you, and he chuckles softly, seeing your nipples poking up through the thin fabric. “You’re warm, angel. Want me to take off your shirt for you? You’ll cool down without it on.”
You don’t get a chance to respond before Rafe pulls your shirt off anyway, tossing it aside. “Fuck, so pretty,” he murmurs, reaching up to pinch your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He spent the better part of a year and a half wondering, dreaming about what they would look like, zooming in on photos of you in bikinis just hoping he would catch a glimpse. They were perfect, even more perfect than he imagined. He pinches them hard. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.”
The pinch sends you reeling, pulling back slightly. “Ow!” You whine as you squirm, trying to get away from his eager fingers. “No…stop… God, please!”
Rafe chuckles, putting one hand on your lower back and pulling you forward. “Awh, angel,” he pinches your nipple again. “God can’t help you. He left you here with me.” He tuts when you whine again, pressing you against him. “Oh, come on baby, don't be shy”, he coos, giving them another sharp squeeze. “These tits are mine now, aren't they? You're my little doll, my angel.” he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “And I'm going to have so much fun breaking you in.”
You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt, right up against your clit. You shake your head, trying to move away, but your body is so heavy and warm. You manage to find your voice, opening your eyes to look at him, although your vision is blurry. “Why are you…doing this to me?”
“Because you're mine,” Rafe says, a small laugh escaping him as he grinds his thick cock against your sensitive clit. “I've wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you. You’re right here, in my lap, all mine.” He moves his hand off of your nipple and cups your face, bringing your face towards his to kiss you. You struggle to kiss back, your lips and mouth still tingling from the cocaine on your gums.
You pull away. “Stop! Please! I didn’t do anything to you!” 
“Awh, baby,” He shifts you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest, his face right next to yours. He runs his hands over your shoulder blades. “Do you not remember it, angel?”
“Remember what?” You ask, finally meeting his eyes.
“The night we met.” Rafe says, pushing some hair behind your ears.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
That summer night was as hot and sticky as the rest.
The Pogues and the Kooks had all gathered at The Boneyard, all attending a bonfire put on by Pope. Rafe had never even planned on going, but after he heard there would be free booze and free cocaine, he decided he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. When Rafe had arrived, you were already there, bottle of beer at your lips as you sat with JJ and John B. Pope was around, walking the beach, mingling with the others.
Rafe watches you from across the sand, just a ways away, watching as you laughed at something JJ had said. He had seen you around, of course, knew that you were friends with all of his least favourite Pogues, but he had never really talked to you. You intrigued him right off the bat, sitting there all beautiful, surrounded by two of the biggest losers in North Carolina, at least in Rafe’s opinion. He excuses himself from his conversation with Topper and Kelce walked forward, pushing past people as he moved toward you, his hands in his pockets.
JJ glances over and immediately stands, ready to fight, but Rafe sticks his hands up in defence. “Relax, Maybank, relax. I come in peace tonight.” 
JJ sits back down on the log next to you, scoffing. He grips the neck of the beer bottle tight. “What do you want, Rafe?”
Rafe looks down at you, and he suddenly doesn’t really know what he wants. He was so used to having a plan, knowing exactly what he was doing. But right now, he was just staring at you, and he didn’t really know what to say. Not that that ever stopped him before. “I came to talk.” he says.
“About what?” John B asks. “Have you come to apologise?”
“Apologise?” He snorts. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that. I just wanted to say something to the angel sitting over here.” His eyes flit over to you for a moment before looking at John B again. “I don’t want a big scene, just want a couple of minutes alone with her. Get to know her, you know?”
“Well, she's not interested,” John B says, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Go bother someone else. Plenty of girls here, I'm sure you can find one who's into Kook assholes like you.”
Rafe glares at John B, his head tilting slightly. He didn’t mind his insults to him, of course he didn’t, but he didn’t like the way John B was holding onto you, and he definitely didn’t like the way John B spoke for you. “Why don’t you let her speak for herself?”
You anxiously rub the beer bottle label with your thumb. “Sorry, Rafe. I’m trying to have a fun time with my friends tonight. But John B is right, there are plenty of girls here.”
Rafe purses his lips, his gaze flickering back and forth between you, John B, and JJ. He glances around, seeing plenty of girls nearby, all of them looking fine. Maybe he really was just imagining things, imagining the butterflies in his stomach and the blood rushing to his cock. He didn’t know you at all, really. He just thought you were pretty, and that had been enough for him to want you. This is just all his pride speaking, he didn’t like being rejected, he would move on. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. My apologies.” He excuses himself, exiting with a small wave before heading back over to Topper and Kelce.
“What a fucking asshole.” JJ mumbles, taking another sip of his beer. Your gaze follows him until he’s out of sight, heading behind a few rocks with Topper and Kelce. You could feel his eyes on you as he walked away, and it gave you a weird feeling. You didn’t want him to be mad at you for saying no, didn’t want him to think you were rude or anything, but you just weren’t interested in Kooks. Especially Rafe. 
Even if he is really attractive, almost annoyingly so.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Rafe watches you all night. 
He gets high on coke, snorting way too many lines, hoping the buzz would keep you and your pretty little body off of his mind, but it does the opposite. He can’t stop himself from glancing over in your direction, staring for a bit too long as you dance around the fire with John B. He can’t keep his eyes off you, and by the time it’s getting closer to two in the morning, he’s had enough. 
The coke has long since worn off, and he’s starting to get pissed off at himself, at wanting someone he can’t have, at getting so fixated on someone so goddamn quickly. He glances around the fire, noticing how many of the Pogues had wandered off, heading home or into the woods with different people for the night, and he suddenly sees his opportunity.
You, hunched over by the shore, throwing up. You had gotten really drunk, drinking beer after beer, and even sipping directly from a vodka bottle that Kiara brought. Rafe had hoped that your incessant intoxication would cause your body, or even your gaze, to find its way over to him, but it didn’t. You kept hanging onto that stupid asshole John B, both arms wrapped around his neck as you sat on his lap next to the bonfire. Rafe watched from afar as John B fed you s’mores, holding your chin in his hand to help you chew, gripping the beer bottle in his hands so tight he thought it would snap. 
Rafe excuses himself from Topper and Kelce as he makes his way over to you, hands in his pockets. He can’t help but feel excited about your vulnerable state, all alone and sequestered away from your stupid Pogue friends. He stands behind you and watches, looking at the way your thighs look in your shorts before speaking, “You alright?”
You stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. Even after vomiting three times, you’re not any less drunk. “Mhm. Peachy.”
He watches you, a slight hint of concern in his eyes. You were really drunk, and you looked like you might collapse at any moment. Your balance was definitely off, which was clear the second you attempted to stand straight. “You want some water?”
You nod, stumbling towards him. You hit his chest, resting against it as your eyes close. “Please.”
His hands instinctively go to your hips, stabilising you against him so you don’t fall. His gaze travels over you, looking at your flushed face and your glassy eyes. So fucking drunk, and so fucking vulnerable. “Sit down a sec, angel. You’re gonna fall over.”
You let out a soft grunt as you sit in the sand, hands going down to dig into it to support yourself. “Okay.”
Rafe squats down next to you, looking out at the waves as they crash against the sand. He glances over at you, seeing how your big eyes were flitting around, unable to focus on one thing. You were so drunk, so out of it, so vulnerable, and he loved it more than anything. “You’re really smashed, huh?” He hands you a half empty water bottle, having drank most of it earlier. It was warm, and the lid was coated in sand, but you didn't seem to even notice.
You eagerly drink the rest of the water, swishing some in your mouth and spitting towards the shore before crunching the bottle in your hands, struggling to recap it. “Mhm. But that’s the point of a party.”
“Yeah, you’re supposed to have a good time. But you’re supposed to stay lucid, not get so trashed that all you can do is throw up and stumble around.” He takes the crushed water bottle from you, putting it aside before turning to face you again, kneeling in the sand.
Your eyes meet his, yet you’re looking right through him, barely registering what’s going on around you. You reach out and grab him, yanking him towards you, his hands falling to the sand on either side of your hips. Your faces are so close. “You’re pretty.”
Rafe grins, leaning forward a bit so that he was almost nose to nose with you, letting his gaze run over your face. You were so out of it, so out of control, so out of your mind, and he loved it, loving the far off look in your eyes. He felt so powerful knowing that he could have you, could do anything he wanted to and have you unable to deny him. It would be so easy to push you back against the sand, to hold you down and make you beg for him. He lets out a low, breathy laugh, his eyes still trained on yours. “Yeah? You think I’m pretty?”
“So pretty,” You mumble, reaching out to hold onto his biceps. “Prettiest guy ever.”
His lips curl into a smug smirk when you bring your hands to his arms. He moves his hands from the sand and rests them on your thighs, fingers trailing over the exposed skin as he moves to kneel between your legs. He was so close to you now, he could just move forward and kiss you. But he loves this, loves being so close that he could have you, loves how drunk you were, loves how all your inhibitions were gone right now. He loved the way you were looking at him. “Yeah? Prettiest guy on Kildare?”
“Prettiest guy in North Carolina,” You say, lightly scratching your nails on his biceps. “Prettiest guy in America.”
Rafe’s gaze darkens as your fingernails scrape at his biceps, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward, closer to you. You were so cute, so out of it, and you were here with him. You were calling him pretty and letting him touch you when you were normally so stubborn and headstrong. He knew if you weren’t as drunk, you’d be pushing him away, telling him to leave you alone, but you weren’t, and he takes advantage of that. He wants to take advantage of you. He leans closer, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah? The whole United States?”
You nod. “Yeah. Whole world, probably,” Rafe hums in satisfaction, his face still right next to yours, your nose touching his. He lets his gaze travel over your face, taking in the beautiful lines of your features, your big, glassy eyes, your flushed cheeks. He loves how vulnerable you are right now, how trusting and affectionate you are, his touch-starved self revelling in any attention you give him. One hand moves from your thigh, pushing some hair behind your ear. You swallow hard. “Wanna kiss you so bad. I always wanna kiss you.”
God, you’re so honest when you’re drunk, it makes his cock throb. “You do, angel? You wanna kiss me?” His hand moves to your cheek, gently brushing over your skin, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. One touch was all it would take to kiss you, a small jerk forward would be enough, and he desperately wants to. You bite your lip, still staring straight through him before leaning forward and kissing him, one hand going to the nape of his neck.
Rafe’s eyes widen as you lean in and kiss him. His jaw tenses, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets go, letting himself fall into the kiss. He reaches forward, grabbing you and practically pulling you into his lap. Your lips were so soft, so perfect, just how he thought they would be, and he lets out a sigh, his hand burying itself in your hair. You shift in his lap, pressing your chest against his, deepening the kiss. He lets out an almost desperate whimper when you press your chest against his, his hands sliding to your hips, moving you in his lap so that you’re straddling him, sitting on his thick thighs as he continues to kiss you. He pulls away, tongue brushing against yours. “You’re so perfect, baby.”
“Mhm…” You lean back, your head spinning. “Johnny…”
Rafe’s heart stops, just for a second.
Johnny?
His grip tightens on your hips as he racks his brain, trying to figure out who the fuck Johnny is--
John B. 
You were hanging all over him at the party, sitting in his lap and letting him feed you s’mores. You thought he was John B.
You whine and squirm in his lap, feeling your stomach churn. He can hear the whine in your voice, feel the way you squirm as your gut revolts from the amount of alcohol you’ve had. “What’s wrong, baby? You feel sick?” He knew the answer, of course, seeing how pale your face was getting. 
You nod and Rafe lets you up, looking over his shoulder as you vomit again onto the shore line. He stands, turning to face you. You thought he was John B this entire time. Were you and John B dating? Did he have no chance with you? Would you even remember this come tomorrow? He goes to step towards you as you vomit again when he hears someone calling your name. He looks back over his shoulder to see JJ and Pope heading down the dune, looking for you.
“What the fuck are you doing here with her?” Pope asks him as JJ rushes over to you, holding your hair back as you vomit again.
Rafe doesn’t hesitate, shooting a glare at Pope. “Just having a conversation.” His gaze lingers on JJ as he holds your hair back. “You guys taking her home? She’s pretty smashed.”
“Why do you care?” JJ asks, wiping your mouth for you.
“Just curious, why are you getting defensive?” He watches as JJ holds your face tenderly, looking after you, and he feels the overwhelming wave of jealousy again, although he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this possessive of someone before, never had strong feelings before, and seeing another man touch you, care for you, is really pissing him off. “God forbid I want someone to be okay, Maybank.”
“Don’t worry about her, man,” Pope says, joining JJ at your side. “None of your concern.”
He bites his tongue, hard. He didn’t want to start a fight, not with you being sick and your stupid friends acting like this. But god dammit, he really wanted to punch Pope, throw him right to the ground and kick him over and over until he was spitting up blood and guts. “Yeah, no, not worrying anymore. You handle her, then.”
“We will,” Pope says, helping you walk back towards the parking lot. “Later, asshole.”
Rafe sighs as you disappear from sight, kicking the sand. “Fuck.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Rafe can’t get you out of his head. Not on his drive away from The Boneyard, not while he continues the party at Topper’s place, and not when he’s finally at home in his bed. He tosses and turns for a while, thinking about your lips against his and the way you felt in his lap, the way your skin felt under his fingers. Your little whines and whimpers play over and over in his head.
He feels himself growing harder as he flops onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Fuck,” he groans, running a hand through his hair. He reaches over and grabs his phone, unplugging it as he unlocks it. He pulls his boxers down, tucking them underneath his balls as he scrolls through his apps. He clicks on Instagram, heading to the search bar, before pausing. Shit. He didn’t know your last name. He sighs, switching over to his burner account and types JJ’s username into the search bar, @jj.maybankofficial. Little fucker had blocked him months ago. He clicks on JJ’s following list and types in your first name, and for a second he panics, half expecting nothing to show up.
But then he sees you.
Your profile is set to public. How convenient. How cute.
He scrolls through your photos, cock fully hardened, pre-cum already dripping from his tip. He finds a few he likes, screenshotting them for later, before finding one that makes his cock throb against his stomach. The photo of is of you in a bikini, holding a smoothie bowl, and smiling into the camera. One of the cups of your bikini is slightly pushed to the side, revealing some of your nipple.
Rafe's breath hitches as he stares at the picture on his phone. “Fuck... Look at those tits,” He mumbles, stroking faster. He leans forward, propping his phone up on his chest as he watches the photo intently. His other hand moves between his legs, and he fondles with his balls, cupping and squeezing them. Pre-cum leaks from the tip, making it easier to stroke. “Yeah, that's it,” he grunts, eyes locked on your face in the screen. “Such a pretty little thing.” Rafe keeps jerking himself off, moaning softly as he strokes faster. The hand that was on his balls reaches up, rubbing at one of his nipples, pinching and twisting it. He rolls his hips up, thrusting his hips into his hand. He can't help but imagine what it would be like if he was fucking you instead, your tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.
He cums embarrassingly quickly, cumming all over his phone screen, right on your pretty little face. He slumps back against his pillow, panting heavily as he comes down from his high. He wipes his sticky hand across his chest, smearing some of the cum onto his abs. He locks his phone and sets it aside, breathing heavily as his cock softens.
It isn’t enough. You’ve corrupted him, and he can’t stop thinking about you, and it isn’t long before he’s hard again. He needs more, he needs something different. “God dammit,” he mumbles, picking his phone back up. He unlocks it before going onto Google, typing in his favourite porn site and scrolling through the top search results, trying to find a girl that looks like you.
He finds a girl that looks close enough, starring in a video titled ‘Hot slut gets fucked rough by her brother’s best friend!!’. He tries so hard to jerk off to it, and although his cock is hard and leaking pre-cum, he can’t get into it. The lighting sucks, the angle is bad, and the girl is so loud and annoying. He exits the video and closes his phone, groaning as he lets go of his cock. Rafe stares back up at the ceiling, feeling his cock twitch against his stomach as it starts to soften.
This wasn’t working. He needed more.
Rafe sits up, digging through his bedside table, and pulls out a small dime bag of coke and a small pocket mirror. He pours some out carefully, smoothing it out and making one single line with his credit card. He sets the credit card down and grabs a dollar bill from his wallet, rolling it up tight. He keeps thinking about you, his mind going back to the way your ass looked in your shorts tonight and the way you clung onto him. He sets the mirror down on his bedside table before snorting the whole line in one go. The cocaine burns as it enters his nose, the effects kicking in within minutes as his head starts to rush. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans back against the wall, the high hitting him hard.
Rafe needed you. 
Fuck. He was going to regret this.
He stands up with a grunt, pulling his boxers back up. He was still hard as fuck, the coke definitely not helping. He digs through his dresser and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, putting them on before slipping his shoes on and grabbing his keys. He rushes out of Tanneyhill, heading down the driveway towards his truck. He hops in, completely forgetting his seatbelt as he puts his keys in the ignition, turning the car on and pulling out of his driveway. He drives along the streets, the adrenaline making the cocaine even more intense. He knows he’s probably too high to be driving a vehicle, but he can’t help himself, he needs you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he drives, his mind swimming with images of you. 
It’s a 15-minute trip to the south side of the island, and soon he realises that he doesn’t know where you live. Rafe sighs, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He’s a powerful man with powerful connections. He scrolls through his contacts, tapping on a name. It rings a couple of times before someone picks up on the other side. “Yeah?” the voice on the other end asks, sounding exhausted.
“Hey, Agent Peterkin,” Rafe says. “It’s Rafe. Ward’s son?”
“Yeah, I know who you are, kid. What is it?” The annoyance in her tone was obvious.
“Listen, I uh…” Rafe sighs. “I need help finding someone’s address. They were at my party tonight, and they were pretty drunk, so I just wanted to check on them.”
There’s a long pause from the other end of the phone, and Rafe can hear the creaking of a chair as she shifts her weight. “Whose address, kid?” Rafe gives her your name, hands gripping the steering wheel as he hears her typing away.
There are a few more pauses of silence, the clicking of the keyboard, before she responds. “Got it, I texted it to you. Anything else you wanna tell me?”
“Does she have a record, or?” Rafe asks. “I'm just trying to stay clean, you know. Like we talked about.”
She lets out a humourless laugh. “No, she’s clean. Parents are clean, too. Nothing to be concerned about. You’ve been staying away from coke like you said, right?”
“Of course I am, Agent Peterkin,” Rafe says. “Alright, thanks for your help. Have a good night.”
Peterkin sighs, knowing that she doesn’t believe him for a second. “Behave yourself,” is all she responds with before she hangs up. 
Rafe opens the text thread, finding your address. He clicks on it, and it opens up the map app on his phone. It’s not far, only 5 more minutes, down the street from The Chateau.
He feels himself grinning, his heart rate picking up as he gets closer, knowing that he was going to see you again soon. He drives a little bit faster than he should, turning onto the road your house is on before pulling up outside. He stares at the house, his gaze flitting from window to window, trying to figure out which window was your bedroom. He parks his truck down the street, walking through the darkness towards your house.
It was small. Cute. Looked easy to break into.
Rafe checks the windows, finding them all locked with the curtains drawn. He tries your front door, which is locked as well. He moves around to the back of the house, walking past your backyard and finding the back door. He carefully walks up the stairs, hand on the doorknob. He takes a deep breath before twisting it.
It opens.
He grins triumphantly, silently pushing it open and walking through the dark house. He shuts the door behind him, glancing around. He had to remind himself to go slow, to stay steady. You weren’t his yet, but you would be. He slowly makes his way through the dark house, looking around for anything to tell him where your room was. He opens one of the doors and peeks in, but finds your parents both asleep, the TV on low. He carefully shuts the door before heading down the hallway towards the second closed door.
He slowly pushed open the door to your room, breathing out when he sees the bed. His gaze travels over the walls, the decorations, the furniture. There’s a small light on your bedside table, casting a soft golden glow over your skin. He walks towards the bed, sitting on the edge, watching you sleep. You were out like a light, completely unaware that he was here, watching you. You looked so perfect when you were asleep, so peaceful, curled up on your side wearing a thin tank top and tiny little pyjama shorts. He gently reached out, letting his fingers trail over your soft cheek.
He feels his cock harden again.
“Okay,” He breathes out softly as he slowly, carefully flips you over onto your back. You shift around and mumble, but you don’t wake up. He lets out a shaky breath, untying his sweatpants and pushing them down around his knees. He pulls his cock out, his boxers resting underneath his balls.
You shift again, wiggling around on the bed, throwing your arms over your head. You’re still asleep.
Rafe freezes, heart pounding in his chest as he watches you move in your sleep. His cock twitches, throbbing in his hand as he imagines what it would feel like when he first pushes into you, feeling your warm wetness envelop him. He leans closer, slowly trailing a finger down your neck, across your collarbone, and along the swell of your breast. He cups your breast in his palm, thumb brushing over your nipple as it hardens under his touch. A soft whimper escapes your lips, but you remain unconscious, lost in slumber. He pushes your tank top up carefully, revealing your stomach, so soft and just begging to be covered in kisses. If he lifted your shirt any higher he would risk waking you.
Rafe's breathing grows ragged as he continues to explore your body, mapping every curve and contour. He wants to memorise you, to claim every inch of you as his own. And he will, in time. He squeezes his cock before starting to brush his fingers over the tip. He starts to jerk off again, panting softly, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up slightly to give him better access. His fingers brush over your inner thigh, teasing you through your thin pyjama shorts. He rubs his thumb over your clothed slit, feeling how warm you are. His movements become more erratic, faster, chasing his release as he imagines burying himself inside you and cumming, claiming you as his own, as his little angel. His hand starts to speed up as his fingers drift over to your face, dragging them across your lips. He didn’t want to wake you up, but fuck he wanted to touch you more.
He suddenly stops touching you, leaning back as he grips his cock tighter, his free hand going to fondle his balls, stroking furiously as he cums all over your stomach, groaning quietly, whispering your name over and over. He pants softly, wiping the cum off on your pyjamas before tucking himself away and fixing his clothes. He glances at you once more before slipping out of the room, leaving as quietly as he came. He pauses at the end of the hall, glancing back one last time before forcing himself to leave, knowing he'd be back again soon enough. He couldn't get enough of you, and he knew that no matter how many times he snuck in to watch you sleep or touched himself while imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to you, he would always come back for more. You were his, whether you knew it or not. His obsession. His angel. His everything. And one day, he'd make sure everyone else knew it too.
Especially that fucker John B.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Rafe smirks at the horrified look on your face. “That’s how we met, baby. You don’t remember?”
You squirm violently, trying to push him away, although your body is still lethargic. “You’re sick, Rafe.”
He rolls his eyes, holding you down against his chest. “Please. You’re the one who told me I was pretty.” He teases, resting his chin on the top of your head as he keeps you pinned in his lap.
“I thought you were John B,” You say, defending yourself. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“But it was me,” He says, burying his nose in your hair. “You think I’m pretty.” He repeats, nuzzling your neck before pulling back and running his fingers through your hair, feeling how soft it is. 
“You can’t do this, Rafe,” You say, eyes starting to well with hot, shameful tears. “You can’t keep me here!”
“But I can,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him, smiling softly at the look of fear in your eyes. You looked so beautiful when you were scared of him. “And I will keep you here. I’ve come to take what’s mine.”
He leans in close, biting your earlobe. “You can’t run from me forever.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
i'm sorry that the ending is kinda blah. i didn't know what to do lol.
part three is here!
★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)
join my obx taglist here!
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3rachasdomesticbanana ¡ 8 months ago
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Just Friends | Han Jisung
Synopsis: Unrequited love is a bitch. Especially when it's between you and your best friend. Even more so when both of you think it's one sided. So what could possibly happen between you and him during a night of partying? Nothing right? You're just friends after all.
Pairings: au Han Jisung x Female Reader
Content Warning: Underage alcohol and drug use (marijuana only), Heavy smut, Friends to lovers, Public unprotected sex and light fluff at the end.
Author's note: I do not advise any anyone under the legal age to take part in the actions that take place in this work of fiction. Both parties are consenting adults over the age of 18. Please be responsible.
Part II
Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌
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"Y/N, you made it! Sweet!” Your best guy friend Jisung bounces up to you when you walk into the party.
His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly glassy. Looks like he got a head start on partying but he makes sure to help you catch up. Pushing a plastic red cup into your hand the liquid sloshes over the top a little and you're hit with a strong whiff of vodka. Shaking your head with a smile, you eye your best friend since middle school. His silly grin makes your heart flutter and wakes up the butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach. Why did I have to fall for him? You think to yourself but quickly shove the thought away. Tonight you're going to have fun. Being a good girl all the time has gotten boring. Besides it's your last year in highschool, better live it up.
“Dude, of course I came. No way in hell was I going to miss watching you make an ass out of yourself.” You say jokingly and force a large gulp of your drink down.
Fuck, it was strong but all the better to get you quickly to the level Jisung was on. He wasn't just tipsy either, a lit rolled joint rested in-between two of his long fingers. The embers softly glowed in the darkened basement of the house the party was held. Some girl you barely knew but her parents were cool. Staying upstairs and even supplying the drinks. As long as no one was driving, the way they saw it, it was better we were safely doing it here rather than out on the streets.
“Oh come on y/n when do I ever make a fool of myself?” Jisung asks, spreading his arms wide and a bit of his drink splashes onto his arm.
Covering your mouth and laughing behind your hand at your high and drunk friend, who you were madly in love with, you pointed your cup in his direction as to prove your point. “I rest my case.”
Stealing the joint from his fingers you put it up to your lips and inhale deeply. His eyes watch the way your lips cover the end of it, the way they tighten around it to inhale the smoke that heats your tongue and throat. He's transfixed, it seems, completely forgetting what you two were talking about. Instead, thoughts of your lips sucking his cock just like that flashes in his mind. His fuzzy mind wanders, imagining scenarios of you down on your knees in front of him while he's giving every drop of him.
When you lean your head back, eyes towards the purple and orange Halloween lights strung up on the ceiling and exhale the smoke, Jisung's eyes find their way to your neck. His gaze travels to your collarbone and down to the black v-neck T-shirt you wore with skeleton hands over where your breast lay nestled away underneath. Lingering eyes notice the way your chest rises and falls with each breath and how delectable your cleavage looks in that shirt. He can't help his thoughts. You've been the cause of all his wet dreams.
Of course you don't notice a thing. In your mind you think he doesn't notice your body, you think he doesn't see the way your tight jeans hug curves. Why would he? You think, taking another puff and another. I'm probably just one of the bros to him.
“Woah, woah, woah. Bro take it easy.” Jisung says chuckling and taking the joint back from you.
His words only confirm your thoughts. Yeah, we're just bros… just friends. You roll your eyes and with an already cloudy brain you chug your drink. It burns going down but the feeling is better than the feeling of unrequited love.
“I need another drink. Where'd you get this?” You wonder with eyes scanning the party.
Bodies pressed close together as they dance. Practically fucking in the middle of the room to the loud music that plays with its heavy bass. But you don't see the drinks. Looking back at your friend he's just staring at you with his lips parted. Raising an eyebrow you silently question his weird behavior only for him to smirk at you before continuing to smoke.
“Follow me lovely.” He says, using the age old nickname he gave you years ago.
Every time he calls you that you swear your panties become instantly drenched and with your head swimming in alcohol and weed, the fantasies of you and him run rampant in that cloudy heavy head of yours. He leads you between the throngs of your classmates who are equally fucked up as you are or more to the kitchen. It becomes hotter the further you move into the basement yet entering the kitchen the breeze through the open window feels great on your already heated skin. Various bottles of alcohol are lined up on the counter in the middle and next to the fridge there's different types of sodas and juice. Reaching a hand out you go straight to the watermelon vodka, smirking when your hand wraps around the glass. Jisung loves watermelon. Watermelon flavored anything really. You often wonder if you were to kiss him would he taste like watermelon? Sweet and juicy like the red flesh of the fruit.
Knocking back a couple of more drinks and even getting a fresh joint all to yourself, courtesy of Felix, a friend of yours and Jisungs, you feel… free. Both light and heavy at the same time. Every beat and every bass of whatever song that plays you swear you can feel. Really feel it in your bones. The feeling is heavenly. Leaning back on your elbows against the counter of the kitchen's island, you listen to Jisung and Hyunjin -another friend- talk about the new Call of Duty game that dropped last week.
“Did you see the tits on that hot redhead in the campaign?” Hyunjin says dramatically, covering his face with both hands and dragging them down.
You just laugh and flick some of the ash off the end of your joint into an abandoned cup of water. Watching it sink to the bottom of the cup you bring your own up to your mouth and drink deeply.
“Oh fuck yeah I saw those babies. Although those tits don't come close to y/n’s.” You hear Jisung say and you almost spit out your drink. Wide eyed and coughing up a lung you look at the two boys as they throw their heads back laughing.
“Shit, you should've seen your face. I thought you were going to pass out for a second there y/n.” Jisung laughs, patting you on your back.
“Well excuse me. I didn't expect my tits to come up in a conversation.”
He chuckles again and his hands begin to rub your back in small circles. His fingers sprawled out wide and you're hyper aware of the heat emitting from his palm as well as his body that's pressed up close to the side of you. Hyunjin isn't paying attention to either of you by now. His phone is his top priority as his fingers fly over the screen texting someone.
“I can't help it if you got nice tits lovely.” Jisung whispers in your ear causing you to shiver.
He takes your joint and holds it out for you to take a drag. Swallowing hard and wetting your lips you lean forward, eyes on him and cover the end with your lips. He watches you inhale deep and when you turn to blow the smoke out he takes a hit as well.
“Dance with me?” he asks you abruptly, taking your hand in his. Dropping the joint into Hyunjin's hand on the way out of the kitchen he guides you to the middle of the makeshift dance floor.
What the fuck? I know I'm pretty shitfaced but am I hallucinating now?
That thought repeats in your head the entire time Jisung dances with you. You're convinced that you imagined the entire conversation in your intoxicated state and start to move your body to the music. Eyes closed, hips swaying left and right, head slowly bobbing to the beat of Chase Atlantic's Slow Down. You're singing along with the sensual and suggestive lyrics when you feel a pair of hot hands on your skin just below the hem of your shirt. Eyes fly open in surprise but when you turn to look at the person who's now pulling you into them your pulse quickens. Jisung's lips are close to your own and you can smell the watermelon vodka you and him drank all night. Fingers pressing into your hips he encourages you to keep dancing, willing you to grind your ass against him.
Too faded in your mind to feel any ounce of nervousness you'd have on a normal day you go all out. Hips swirling in a circular motion you continue to dance pushing your ass against him. He moves with you matching your movements, bodies rolling together. The hardness in his black jeans is unmistakable and it only makes you want him even more than you ever have. For seven years you harbored your secret crush on him and for 3 of those years you lusted after him. Nights in your bedroom alone you'd moan into your pillow crying his name over and over imagining his fingers rubbing your velvety walls instead of your own. The very fingers that tease and caress your skin as they make their way to your belly.
Needing to see his face, because part of you still believes that you're passed out somewhere dreaming, you look back at him and the sight breaks something in you. Maybe it's the walls you kept up in order to not get hurt, maybe it's your sanity, you don't don't really know. All you know is that you need him. You need to feel the stiffness that's clothed and pressed on your ass inside of you.
Jisung's eyes land on your lips before he slowly brings them back up to look at you. Fuck it, you do what you've dreamt about doing and kiss him. It's blissful and for a moment it's sweet. His lips taste exactly like you thought. Watermelon. It's only when the hand that rests on your stomach travels south that the kiss intensifies. It becomes messy, hot and hurried. He cups your sex over your jeans and you moan on his mouth.
As if he wasn't already hard, you feel his cock stiffen more and he groans softly on your lips. The sound carries its way inside of you down to your feet. The bodies around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in a intimate, private bubble. Holding onto you tightly he pushes himself hard into as if he could penetrate you through all the layers of clothing that currently keep you two from actually fucking right there in front of half the senior class. This teasing, it's an excruciating sort of sensation.
“Fuck me Jisung.” You beg, “Fuck me hard.”
“Shit.” He growls.
He doesn't hesitate, doesn't even let go of the hold he has on your waist when he pulls you into the kitchen and out the glass door into the backyard. There's not a lot of people out here but they're just a blur to you while you get dragged into the dimly lit garage through a door on the side of the house. Only thing illuminating the space is a large bug zapper. The soft neon purple light bounces off the two cars and random objects, casting strange shadows on the walls. You're jerked forward into Jisung's arms and his lips are on yours again. His hands palm your ass while his tongue dances with yours.
“Mm baby, fuck why do your lips taste so good?”
His words, dripping with lust, fall from his mouth. You don't get a chance to come up with some witty or stupid reply because he's spinning you around and bending you over the hood of a black mustang. The hood is cool to the touch from the late October night air but your body is scorching. Fumbling, drunk fingers clumsily undo the button on your jeans, making quick work on the zipper next. Doesn't take long for his pants and yours to be a pool of denim around the pair of your ankles.
His hand comes crashing down over your ass smacking it once making you gasp in shock. He moans appreciatively, licking his lower lip watching your skin turn pink. One hand palming where the strike connected he uses his other hand to guide the leaking tip of his cock to your opening.
“Damn you're so wet.” He shuddered, rubbing himself in-between your folds.
“J- just for you, Ji.” You purr.
“Yeah baby? You get this wet for me all the time?”
You nod your head in response. Speech becomes increasingly difficult the more he teases your cunt and rubbing himself over your clit. When he rams into you suddenly the sound that leaves you is so foreign to you that you aren't even sure it came from you. This strangle whimpering cry seems to only make Jisung crazier. He's driving into with so much force that the car rocks underneath you. He's so thick and the feeling of him stretching you wide, has you feeling higher than any strain of weed you've had.
“F- fuck y/n... Why do you feel so good?” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside of you.
You can't speak. All you can do is moan and whimper incoherently, watching your breath fog the shiny black surface of the car. His balls slap against your clit each time his length disappears inside of you. He isn't quiet either, he doesn't shy away from moaning your name praising you or telling how good you feel on his dick. Your name is repeated like a mantra.
“Jisung, fuck!” You manage to cry out clawing at the smooth surface below you.
“That's my girl. Keep talking lovely. I wanna hear you. Wanna hear your sexy voice.” Rolling his hip he slams into at such an angle your legs begin to shake.
“Don't- don't stop, shit. I'm so close Sungie. Fuck, your cock feels so good inside of me mmm.” Your words push him closer to the edge and his fingers dig painfully into your hips.
Doesn't matter though, chasing the climax that's building quickly inside of you is what matters. Feeling Jisung's cock slide in and out of you creating this beautiful slippery sound when your bodies connect…. you don't know how you'll ever get enough of this. With a shuddering breath you squeeze your eyes shut so tight that you start seeing specks of white lights flashing behind your lids. Your skin prickles and your walls clench down around him pulling a strained groan from him as your orgasm crashes through you. Burying your face in the crook of your arm you attempt to muffle your anguish moans. Jisung pumps into you at a frenzied pace groaning and grunting and cumming with you at the same time.
“Ah, y/n, y/n! Shit, fuck, baby!
Your pussy pulsates milking his cock for every drop of cum that he gives you, filling you up to the point that some starts to drip down your inner thigh. Your legs feel like jelly and the sound of your shared heavy breathing and panting seems to somehow sync with the rhythm of the muffled music playing from inside the house. Groaning he slides out of and you shiver feeling the cold hit your ass.
“I've wanted to do that for a long time.” Jisung admits softly after your clothes are back in place.
The sudden confession makes you feel suddenly shy as if he wasn't just rearranging your guts one minute ago. With gentle hands he cups your face and places a sweet and tender kiss to your lips. When he pulls back from you his eyes blaze with unspoken words that you feel in your chest. With the high from the weed gone and the buzz slowly wearing off it becomes clear that this wasn't a one time thing. The love you thought was one sided wasn't and he wanted to be clear about that, even if he couldn't put it into words right now.
“Come back to my place? I don't want the night to end yet.” His hands find their way to yours intertwining your fingers together. “My parents aren't home.” He adds with a cocky smirk.
A giggle bubbles up from you and you roll your eyes playfully. “Can't get enough can you Ji?” You tease, finding it easy to still have the best friend vibes between you.
“Lovely, the way you felt on my dick, I don't think I'll ever get enough.” He confesses and picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder carrying out of the garage into the Halloween night air.
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zegrasdrysdale ¡ 21 days ago
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[ let me show you ] d. mercer
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day 5 of kinktober (praise kink w/ dawson mercer)
paring : Dawson Mercer x fem!reader
summary : Dawson shows his best friend how sex is supposed to feel
warning(s) : smut ! inexperienced!reader, soft dom!dawson, oral (f recieving), p in v, protected sex, praise kink, pet names during sex
author’s note : being so serious when i say that this is (i think) the first time im writing for merc so plsss bear w me and tell me what you think. it was supposed to be on she shorter end, but i got a lil carried away so there is actual plot including. enjoy <33
kinktober schedule
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That is not how sex is supposed to feel. Even with only one hookup prior to tonight under her belt, she doesn't think it was supposed to be that bad. Both her hookups to this day were honestly bad, and she's starting to think it has something to do with her.
She didn't think she would ever be the one to sneak out of someone's bed after hooking up with them, but here she is. She quietly and quickly gathers her clothes before she gets dressed so she can make her escape.
On the way down to the Uber that she ordered once her date fell asleep, she calls Dawson because she needs to tell someone about her night.
The phone rings a few times before he answers the phone.
"Aren't you supposed to be out on a date right now?" he questions as soon as he picks up the phone.
She pushes the door open and is met with cool New Jersey air. It whips through her hair. "Supposed to be are the key words," she tells him. "No, he brought me back to his apartment and attempted to fuck me."
"Attempted?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice. She can only imagine his face. "How did he attempt to fuck you? Because usually he did or he didn’t."
Before she gets into the Uber, she says in a hushed voice, "He couldn't figure out how to put his dick in me, Dawson. That's what I mean when I say he attempted to fuck me. He just went down on me instead and he came just from doing that. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t orgasm.”
He howls with laughter as she gets into the backseat of the Uber. "No way," Dawson laughs. "You're telling me he didn't know where to put it? Oh my God."
"It's embarrassing for me too, Merc," she tells him, face red like she is having this conversation face-to-face with him. "It's not like I knew any better either. Both hookups I’ve had have been the worst experiences of my life and taught me next to nothing about what I’m supposed to do.”
Her best friend is quiet as the Uber starts the drive to her apartment building in Hoboken. She raises her eyebrows, but he starts talking before she can ask if he’s still there.
“Come to my apartment,” he tells her. Dawson sounds a little more serious than he did thirty seconds ago.
“Why?”
“Just … come to my apartment,” he reiterates. “I’ll tell you why when you get here.”
Confused flood her body. “Okay,” she sighs. She tells the Uber driver Dawson’s address before she turns her attention back to the conversation. “You’re being very suspicious right now and I’m not sure I like it.”
“You love me anyway,” he laughs. “See you soon.”
Then the line beeps dead and she pulls the phone away from her ear. She blinks at the dark device and questions why he suddenly told her to come over. It’s almost one in the morning and she’s pretty sure he has morning skate at ten, yet he told her to come over.
If he wants to make her feel better, he could’ve waited until it wasn’t the middle of the night. They could’ve gone to lunch tomorrow when he got done practice and before he took his pre-game nap. Dawson didn’t have to tell her to come over.
The drive to Dawson’s place takes ten minutes longer than the drive to her apartment would’ve taken. It’s close to 1:30 in the morning when the Uber pulls up out front of his apartment building. She thanks the driver and heads up to Dawson's fourth floor apartment.
Three knocks later and she's face-to-face with Dawson in his pajama pants and Devils t-shirt. He looks her up and down where she stands in her little black dress and heels. The dress isn't too revealing but it shows off her curves with the way it hugs her body.
She walks past him without a word. Her cheeks threaten to turn red as she turns back to face him. Dawson shuts the door and she asks, "Is there a reason I'm in your apartment in the middle of the night?"
"You said your hookup experiences weren't the best," Dawson slowly says, hesitating a bit.
"Did you seriously ask me to come over so you could make fun of me because of my lack of experience?" she asks, annoyance evident in her voice. "Because not all of us can be a professional hockey-"
"I might be your best friend, but I wouldn't make fun of you for that," he interrupts. "God. Who do you think I am? I make fun of you for a lot of things but not because of your lack of experience."
Her body begins to relax because she really thought he was going to make fun of her. "Then why did you ask me to come over if it wasn't to make fun of me?" she tries again.
There's a moment of hesitation like Dawson's unsure of what to say next. She raises her eyebrows in confusion until he speaks.
She's very surprised at the words that leave his mouth.
"Let me show you how sex is supposed to feel," he tells her. "I'm your best friend. I hope that means you trust me enough to let me show you how good sex is supposed to be."
As soon as the words pass his lips, she's taken aback.
They've been best friends since they met their freshman year of high school and she never fathomed hooking up with him. She would be lying if she had she never thought about it though, because she has a few times. He's attractive, an insanely good hockey player, and has the best sense of humor. She knows that; she just never thought he'd want to hook up with her.
"You would do that?" she questions. "For me?"
Dawson nods and takes a step toward her. "I'd do anything for you," he replies. "Including this, if you want. So you're not embarrassed and know what you're doing next time someone takes you home after a date."
Slowly, he crosses the living room until he's standing in front of her. She looks up at him and sharply inhales when their eyes meet for a second.
"I, um ..." she trails off. "Yeah."
A small smile forms on Dawson's lips. "Yeah?" he asks. "Is that a yes?"
She nods and reaches out to touch him. She hesitates, gnawing on her bottom lip. "It's a yes," she tells him. "Before we do though, just promise me that it won't change anything. You'll still be my best friend and you'll still make fun of me for stupid things and I'll still get to make fun of you every time you fall on the ice."
The grin on Dawson's face grows. "Nothing will ever change," he tells her. "You'll still be able to make fun of me every time I fall on the ice. As a matter of fact, please keep making fun of me when I fall on the ice because it's one of my favorite things when you do."
A smile forms on her face as she looks up at her best friend. "Then okay," she sighs. "Show me how sex is supposed to feel."
With her permission and consent, he leans down and captures her lips in a long, deep kiss. Her heart races in her chest the longer their lips touch. She reciprocates it, matching the slow pace he instigated the kiss with. His forehead rests on her as the kiss deepens slightly.
Dawson brings his hand up and cups her jaw, holding her close. She rests her hands on his waist, grabbing his shirt lightly and pulling at the thin fabric so he doesn't get too far. His free hand mirrors the other one. She hums at the feeling because she's never been kissed like this.
While she lacks experience in bed, she's had her fair share of kisses in her life. Teenage relationships in high school, a little experimentation during her college years, and a handful of dates since she moved to Jersey to be close to Dawson.
In all those years though, she's never been kissed the way her best friend is kissing her now. The way he's holding her, deeply kissing her. She's not sure she'll want to kiss anyone else but Dawson after this.
He moves his hands down to her waist and she slides hers up over his chest until she wraps them around his neck. Dawson's hands rest on her butt and she smiles into the kiss that follows. He kisses her smile before he takes advantage and licks into her mouth. She gasps and hums at the feeling.
Yeah, she may never kiss anyone but Dawson after this.
The kiss turns rushed, heated, and full of tongue. She kicks off the heels she's wearing while Dawson picks her up after he wraps his arms around her waist. She wraps her legs around him and he carries her off to his bedroom down the hallway.
A soft light illuminates the room from the lamp that's lit next to his bed. That's the only light in the room when Dawson crawls on his knees on the mattress before he lies her on her back. She rolls her hips against his and Dawson pulls back.
"Okay," he breathes out with a smile on his face. "You're rushing. Don't rush. You're chasing after something you have to build to first so take a second. I have you and I'll make sure you feel good."
She nods and relaxes her entire body under his. She stares up at him and bites her bottom lip. Dawson sits back on his feet and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Her eyes widen at the sight of him without a shirt and his checkered pants hanging low on his waist.
"Oh, fuck me," she breathes out.
"That's the plan," Dawson replies.
He hooks his fingers around the thin straps that sit on her shoulders. He pulls them down off her shoulders very slowly, pulling the fabric down with the straps. When she pulls her arms out, Dawson keeps pulling the dress off.
Her breasts are exposed and she doesn't feel the need to cover her chest up. She lets Dawson keep looking at her the way she can't help but look at him.
She lifts her hips so Dawson can pull off the dress. It hits the floor with a soft thud. Her fingers splay across his torso and run up his chest. Dawson wraps his hands around her wrists and pulls her so she's sitting up, chest against his.
Dawson lifts her head up with a curled pointer finger. "I've always thought you were pretty," he softly tells her while his eyes study her face. Her face turns red. "But holy shit. You are so beautiful. I'm going to make sure you feel so good, my pretty girl."
His words shoot straight to her core. "Merc," she sighs. "You can't just say those things."
"I can," he replies while he runs a finger between her breasts. "And I will because in this moment, I'm allowed to." His fingers trails down her stomach until it reaches the waistband of her ruined panties. "So get used to it."
She shivers at his words and allows him to pull off the thin fabric. She is completely bare in front of him, and he looks at her like she's the only thing in the entire world.
It might be because they're sharing this intimate moment, but she can't help but think maybe he feels something for her. She's had a couple of moments where she thought maybe they could be more than friends, but she didn't think he shared those sentiments so she never said anything. She's never initiated anything, but he suggested they do this tonight so she can't help but wonder if he feels something for her.
Dawson lies down on his stomach with his face between her legs. He licks his bottom lip and mumbles, "So wet, pretty girl. All for me?"
Pretty girl rings throughout her head and leaves her tongue-tied. All she can do is nod in response to his question. Dawson grins and kisses her thigh. Her body shudders in response. He trails kisses from her thigh to her core. He licks a slow stripe over her core and she lets out a soft hum as her hands find a home in his hair.
"God, Dawson," she gasps. His lips wrap around her clit and he hums, sending shocks throughout her entire body.
In the two hookups she's had before this one, it's never felt like this. Her body has never reacted like this before. An unfamiliar knot has already formed in the pit of her stomach, and Dawson has only used his tongue on her. He hasn't touched her, but it already feels so good.
His tongue runs through her soaked folds. Soft hums pass his lips every so often, and each time she gasps.
"So good for me," Dawson tells her. "So patient for me. You taste so good, baby."
Before she can even react to his words, he slips his tongue inside of her. A borderline pornographic moan passes her lips while her fingers curl in his locks. She throws her head back in pleasure as Dawson licks her closer to her inevitable orgasm.
He shifts his position on the bed so he’s more on his knees than his stomach. His hands rest on her belly for a second before they slide up to cup her breasts. She hums and rests her own hands on his.
“Merc,” she sighs. “I think I’m close. Please.”
If her shaking legs and knot in her stomach are any kind of indication then she’s close. Closer than she probably thinks she is.
Dawson pulls back and she whines at the loss of contact. He stands up next to the bed and completely undresses himself. She basically starts salivating at the sight of his cock springing free of it’s checkered confines. She gnaws on her bottom lip and can’t wait to get her mouth on his dick.
Tonight is not that night though. Dawson probably won’t let it happen because he’s so bent on making her feel good.
He reached into his bedside table drawer and pulls out a small silver package. She presses her lips into a tight line when she realizes that is going to be inside her.
Dawson crawls back onto the bed between her legs. He rips open the package with his teeth and slides its contents onto his dick. He lines his tip up with her entrance and she lets out a sigh.
“I’ve got you,” he promises. “You’re doing so well for me.”
His praise is one thing she never expected to turn her on. The more he praises her, the closer her orgasm gets. It’s new, but she likes hearing Dawson talk to her like that.
She lets her legs fall to the side and Dawson hovers over her. She pulls him down for a deep kiss. He pushes into her.
There a pinch of pain when he stretches her out before it turns into pleasure the further into her he pushes. She hums as he buries himself into her. “So big, Merc,” she tells him between kisses. “Might ruin me for anyone else.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he replies. She smiles into the kiss that follows.
He allows her to adjust to his size for a second before he starts rolling his hips. She gasps as he feels his cock inside of her. Again, there’s slight pain for a second before it turns into pleasure.
The room is quickly filled with the creak of the bed and soft sounds that rise from her throat. She wraps her legs around his waist and he changes his angle to move even deeper into her.
“Fuck, Dawson!” she gasps. “Fucking me so good. God.”
Dawson smiles and quickens his pace.
She throws her head back and his lips leave hers to attach to her jaw. She wraps her arms around his neck to keep him close. One of his hands rests on her waist while he moves.
“So tight for me, pretty girl,” Dawson tells her. "Perfect little pussy. All for me."
"All for you, Merc," she pants. Her legs begin to shake as she does everything she can to keep herself from coming before she wants to.
Dawson slows his pace but continues to move deeply into her. He hits a sweet spot and she cries out his name.
"Come for me, pretty girl," Dawson pants. "Make a mess on my cock."
With his words, the knot in her stomach comes undone and a wave of pleasure overcomes her. She completely blacks out. Her vision whitens and Dawson's name falls from her lips. Dawson fucks her though what's probably the first proper orgasm she's ever had.
She's so out of it that she doesn't feel Dawson come into the condom he's wearing, pull out of her to dispose of it, go into the bathroom and come back out to clean them both up.
That experience was so much better than the last two. The first time she had sex in college was messy and painful. The second time was that night before she went to Dawson's. Third time really was the charm because she's never felt that good when having sex.
That's the Dawson Mercer experience.
Eventually, she finds the strength to move and Dawson laughs. "You okay?" he asks. "I lost you for a second there."
"You are ..." she trails off. "That was-- Dawson. Holy shit. No wonder women keep wanting to fuck you."
He grins, proud of himself. "I guess that means it was a much better experience than you've already had?" he asks.
"Much," she laughs. "I don't think I'll find anything better than that."
"Well, you're welcome to come back whenever you want," he tells her. "Honestly. It felt really good for me too so I wouldn't say no if you ever wanted to run it back."
"Yeah?"
Dawson hums as she curls up around him. She looks up at him and tries hard not to stare at his swollen lips, unsure if she can kiss him at this point.
Their moment is over, but she suspects that it won't be the only moment they share in the coming weeks or months. Maybe their whole relationship will change after tonight. Who knows?
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MAIN HOCKEY
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munsonsmixtapes ¡ 6 months ago
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Ok but imagine like older Eddie he's like 50 and he's still in corroded coffin but they only got big around Hawkins and surrounding areas but like you meet him ajd you're 23 and he's selling merch and you donf think he's in the band and you're in town for the headliners band which is a bigger more well known band bur yiu and Eddie start flirting and you're wearing your usual concert outfit a tight cropped tank top and short shorts and you guys takk and you wnd up buying merch for the band you think he's just selling for jusf bc you needed a reason to talj to him and then you go to your seats and the opening band is Eddie's bandand yiu see him and your jaw drops and you're in shock and he's so so giddy and flirty wven while he's playinf but only ti you and he feels like a teenager again and his hormones are racing and after the set you don't even stay to watch the headliner you go and talj eith him more and one thing leads to another and yiu guys ya know get filthy 🥵🥵🙈🙈🙈
This is such a great request! I did change the age gap because it’s a little too large for my liking so I hope that’s okay!
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, grinding, age gap (reader is 25 and Eddie is 40)
You entered the crowded venue and smoothed out your skirt before heading over to the merch stand of the band you were most excited to see. You had worn your best outfit, hoping to get some action from the lead guitarist, even though he was definitely old enough to be your father. What could you say? You had a thing for older men and didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.
You pulled your shirt down just enough to show your cleavage, even though your bra was very visible through the tight material and made your way over to the merch table where you knew the band hung out before their set.
You looked around at the other tables as you went and stopped when you saw the hottest man you had ever seen at the stall right next to the one you had your eye on. He was staring directly at you, his eyes looking directly at your tits that were practically spilling over your tank top.
He had a beard that you were definitely into and his hair was pulled back into a loose bun which you assumed was to keep his hair off his neck in the hot venue and he was wearing a denim vest which showcased his tattoos very nicely. He had some on his torso and both of his arms were covered in full sleeves.
As you stepped closer, you could see all of his face piercing which included a hoop through both his lip and nose and a piercing through his eyebrow. He was so hot that you could have sworn you were getting wet just from looking at him.
“Hi,” you greeted, putting on your signature flirty smile and he mimicked it, his far better than yours.
“Hi,” he replied, pressing his hands on the counter and leaning forward, just close enough for you to get a whiff of him. He smelled like the perfect mixture of tobacco and whatever cologne he was wearing and it was intoxicating.
“Corroded Coffin?” You asked, looking down at the shirts that were displayed both behind him and on the table he was leaning on. You knew practically every band in the genre so you weren’t entirely sure why you had never heard of them.
“They’re newer,” he responded, his voice sounding raspy and low, making your cunt even more damp. “It’s their first big show outside of Indiana.”
“That’s really cool,” you smiled. You always loved supporting smaller bands and eyed the CD that was next to him, displaying what you had assumed was their album.
“You should check them out,” he said, handing you one of the CDs and a shirt that he assumed was your size. You reached for your purse, but he just shook his head.
“No need, sugar,” he winked. “It’s on the house.”
“Well thank you-” you paused, realizing you didn’t know his name.
“Eddie,” he responded and got thought the name suited him.
“Eddie,” you repeated and he loved the way it fell from your pretty glossed lips.
“And you are?” He asked, leaning even closer and his scent entered your nose again, making you want to smell it forever.
“I guess you’ll have to find out when you find me later,” you gave him a wink of your own and grabbed a sharpie from your purse that you had brought for autographs and grabbed his hand before scribbling your number on it. With that, you turned on your heel to head to to head into the seating area, making a beeline for a spot right in front of the barricade, the whole reason why you originally showed up in the first place as your mind wandered to Eddie.
Not long after, you received a text from Eddie which had been an eggplant emoji and immediately saved his number before sending him the water droplets back.
After about an hour of making conversation with the people around you, the lights went down and the first band came on. You watched as fog moved across the stage as the curtain slowly rose to reveal the band, a gasp escaping your lips as you realized that the front man was Eddie.
“How we doing San Francisco?” He asked as he adjusted his mic. His eyes locked on yours and you smiled, giving him a flirty wave. Everyone erupted in cheers and you joined them, clapping your hands together and cheering as loud as you could.
“Good to hear it. May I say that I am doing fantastic. I think I’m gonna start off with a fan favorite. Is that alright?” Everyone cheered again and you were curious to see which song they were going to perform.
The song started off slow, but you didn’t miss the absolutely filthy lyrics that were spilling from Eddie’s mouth. He was watching the entire time, almost as if he was dedicating the song to you. He then stepped away from his mic, you reached your hand out to him and he took it, pressing a kiss to the skin, looking directly into your eyes as he sang about wanting to fuck you like an animal.
As you watching Eddie perform, you let your mind think about all of the things you’d let him do to you. The way you’d grind against him while he sat in the passenger seat of your car as he took what he wanted from you as he kissed you until you were both breathless. He’d then stick his hands underneath your skirt and finger you, stretching you out so you’d be ready for his giant cock and he’d fuck you until you both orgasmed, the windows fogging up from your moans mixing together in the air.
You honestly hadn’t been paying attention their entire set after the first song. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to see Eddie naked and just how much you wanting to run your tongue along his lip ring while he pounded into you, making you moan like you never had before.
You sent Eddie your location as you got to your car and he met you there pretty quickly, still in his outfit from before, his torso glistening with sweat that you found yourself wanting to lick up.
“So, you gonna tell me your name now?” He asked as he took a drag of the cigarette he was holding.
“I’m y/n.”
“Oh, I’m gonna love moaning that,” he responded then his eyes widened. “That is why you asked me here, right?”
“What did you think the emoji meant?”
“I just wanted to be sure, sugar,” he took another drag from the cigarette and blew it through his lips. “Just wanted to make sure the feeling was mutual before I did anything. And I also wanted to make sure that you were of age before we did anything. You’d be surprised how many minors try to get with me.”
You pulled your ID from your wallet and handed it to him. You had been younger than he thought and a couple years younger than the half your age plus seven rule but since it was only two, he supposed he could make an exception. You were just so hot to not take the opportunity.
He gave you your ID back and without hesitation, his lips were on yours in a filthy kiss as he set you on the hood of your car, spreading your legs so he could step between them to get closer to you. He licked into your mouth and laid you down onto the hood, neither of you caring who was around. You were just so desperate for each other that you couldn’t waste any time getting into the car.
His tongue roughly scraped against yours and you let out a moan at the feeling which made his dick harden which you felt against you, making you even more wet. Eddie’s hand slowly moved down to your skirt and moved up it. His fingers were rough and his rings were cool against your thigh as he slowly moved his hand up it. His cock hardened even more once he realized you hadn’t been wearing any underwear.
He shoved two of his fingers up your pussy as his lips moved against yours and you moaned into his mouth at both the sensation and his cold rings brushing the sensitive skin.
“Oh,” you moaned and he pulled away, wanting to see you come undone at his touches. Your eyes closed as he got both fingers fully inside and then he pulled out, pumping in and out and you moaned louder as he moved harder and faster, your legs giving out at the pure delight that was coursing through you.
“Look so pretty around my fingers, sugar. Bet you look even prettier around my cock,” he said as he pulled his fingers out of you as soon as you reached your orgasm. He licked the slick clean off his fingers and looked down at you with a grin as you gasped at the action. “And look at that, you taste even better.”
Your legs were feeling like jello as you were sliding down the hood of the car. Eddie caught you and helped you to the passenger seat. He got in first and you climbed on top of him. He slammed the door and as soon as you were in the privacy of the tinted windows, your lips were on his, the kiss rough and hot as you leaned the seat back as far as it would go. Once it was situated, you moved your hands to Eddie’s vest, pulling it down his shoulders. He leaned up so you had more ease removing it and eventually, it ended up in the backseat as he pulled the bottom of your shirt out from your skirt. He could see the red bra underneath it pretty clearly, but he wanted to see it without the shirt being in the way.
You lifted your arms and he removed your shirt in one quick motion, tossing it into the back seat before taking a moment to get a look at you. You looked so fucking hot on top of him with your kiss bitten lips and your tits that were practically spilling out of your bra. He didn’t know what he had done to be able to be there with you in that moment, but he was definitely going to consider himself fucking lucky.
Eddie’s fingers ran along the lace that was attached to the tops of the cups and you felt your nipples harden as his fingers touched your bare chest as his fingers moved. He kissed you again and stuck his hand down one of the cups to squeeze your tit. He licked into your mouth and you began grinding against him, the slick of your sopping wet cunt seeping through his jeans, making the fabric wet as well.
You felt his hard dick against your entrance as you continued to grind on him and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling. Eventually, his hands moved to the back of your bra and he unclasped it with ease before tossing it to the back to join your other discarded clothing.
“God, fuck, you’re so hot,” he practically whimpered as he caught sight of your tits.
“Oh, you like them?” You asked, moving to the left and right, causing them to move with you. Eddie swore he was going to cream his pants right there.
“Wanna see them bounce while you ride me,” his voice was even lower and raspy than before and you swore that you weren’t going to survive if he was going to keep talking like that. “Wanna ride me, sugar?” That nickname was doing things to you that you couldn’t even explain.
“Wanna ride you so bad, fuck,” you whined. Oh, he could get used to that. You moved so he could remove his pants while you reached for a condom in your purse. Once you had it and his pants and underwear were down to his ankles. His cock was even larger than you had expected and you were not glad he had fingered you so you were more stretched out.
“You’re so big,” you told him and he smiled.
“Think you can take it?”
“Oh, I know I can.” You rolled the condom onto his dick then situated yourself onto it, the two of you letting out moans as he entered you. You grabbed onto his shoulders while his hands went to your waist. Your hips bucked as you began to ride him. Eddie watched your tits bounce as you moved and he was mesmerized by the moment, very sure that no one had ever looked that hot in that situation.
You continued to ride him as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his, your tongue moving his lip ring back and forth as your bare tits pressed to his chest. It was overstimulating, but he didn’t even care.
“Fuck, driving me crazy,” he moaned. “Can’t be doing all these things at once, sugar. My poor cock can’t take it.”
“Oh, you can take it,” you responded, your movements becoming even faster and harder, causing his back to arch, his own hips bucking against yours. His vision went hazy as he reached his peak, letting out his loudest moan yet, but neither of you were ready to stop.
You pulled him in for another filthy kiss and loved the way his facial hair scraped against your face. It was touch and coarse and you didn’t even care if it irritated your skin so long as he kept kissing you like that, his tongue swirling around and scraping against yours.
You scratched down his chest and you continued to ride him, the feeling of his hips bucking against yours causing you to come undone. His fingers were digging into your hips so hard that you swore that he was going to leave bruises, but you didn’t care. In fact, you kind of wanted him to so you could have physical proof of this moment.
Your pace slowed down as both of you orgasmed, wanting to take things slow for a bit since you had gotten there so quickly. Now you just wanted to enjoy the way he felt inside you a little longer. He felt so good and you were stalling at that point because you knew that this was just going to be a one time thing. It always was with rockstars. They were always the hit it and quite it types.
You eventually got off of Eddie and the two of you cleaned up and he pulled his pants back up which you helped him button. You then settled yourself back on his lap and leaned your head against his chest, tracing the tattoo that was right by your face.
“So, same time tomorrow?” He asked, letting his fingers gently run up and down your back and you pulled back to look at him.
“You want to?” You asked, your face lighting up at his suggestion. He pulled you into a short kiss before smiling as well.
“Sugar, if you fuck me like that again, I’d be happy to do it every night.” You pulled him in for another kiss the laid your head back on his chest to hide the grin on your face.
“It’s a date,” he responded, a grin making its way upon his face as he thought that maybe he’d wine and dine you first. That was what you deserved for making him feel that good, after all.
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waffledforbreakfast ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Eyes On Me - [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]
Staring: Rin, Shidou, Sae, Niko, Kaiser, Ness, Otoya, Karasu, Reo
[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]
TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, etc.
Bllk if you watch their game
>Rin
Made a habit of scanning the crowd for you face before you even attended his first game. He was so shocked and excited when he saw you.
Couldn’t stop smiling to himself, but had to pull himself together in front of his teammates
Looked up at you after every goal, or whenever he could, really
Ran up to you immediately after the game with a hug, you couldn’t breathe. He still smelled like crap too
Ignored any/all questions from his teammates
Asked you if you were proud of him and if you were watching
“I looked cool right? You think I’m cool right? Definitely better than Sae.”
You guys went out for food afterwards, but you had to remind him to shower first.
>Shidou
Doesn’t usually look at the crowd so he didn’t notice you first
He managed to pinpoint your voice out of the crowd though, and that man SPUN around to see you
And see you he did, Shidou literally screamed “HII [Y/N] WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??”
The looks everyone gave him 😭
He missed his first 2 shots because he tried to look cool for you
Once he started focusing he completely forgot about you ;v;
Tackled you into a hug after the game though, like, RIGHT after- he hopped though the stands
>Sae
He doesn’t really want you to watch his games for a few reasons (he thinks you’ll distract him, and he’s worried that his teammates are gonna hit on you.)
So he didn’t notice you til his teammates pointed it out 
“Yo Sae, look at that cute person over there, imma go ask for their number after the game”
He genuinely didn’t care at first
“Sae she kinda looks like the person in your wallpaper”
THE WAY HE WENT SO ALERT
His jaw drops and he just urgently mouths/signs to you, what are you doing here??!?
He refuses to acknowledge you during the game, but he glanced at you like 20 times already LOL
Calmly walked up to you AFTER he split up from the rest of the team
He’ll just stare at you “What are you doing here?”
“I came to watch you :D” 
“... Let me know next time.”
>Niko
Always imagined you watching, was shocked when you actually did
He actually played pretty calmly, but his ego got buffed LOL
Niko took more goals for himself to look cool :> 
His teammates got kinda mad at him, but he did NOT care XD
Kept looking at you to see your reaction to his plays
He was so proud of himself after the game, and was SO HAPPY to hear your praise
>Kaiser
He was probably too focused on warming up until Ness pointed you out
THE GRIN THIS MAN WORE, MF IS SMUGGG
Non-stop smiling
DEMANDED Ness to pass EVERY ball to him
Winked at you like every 2 minutes
Walked up to you afterwards, so very proud of himself. And he was expecting you to bury him in praise too
If you did praise Kaiser, his ego would get a MASSIVE boost. I’m not sure if it’s physically possible to be as smug as him
If you didn’t praise Kaiser, he’d just frown at you and wait.
>Ness
He wasn’t intentionally looking for you, but his eye spotted you IMMEDIATELY
He was so happy XD giggling, clapping, jumping, Ness was overjoyed 
He played normally for the most part, but he did pop off more than often
Looked at you with every move he made
Ran up to you after he showered and threw himself into your arms
Boy was a blushing mess when you complimented him  
Treated you out to food afterwards, he wants you at EVERY GAME now
>Otoya
He was lowkey pretty shocked when he saw you (he was scanning the crowd for cute chicks to hit on after)
Bro was SMILINGGG, he couldn’t help it LOL
Made bolder moves so that you’d watch him, kept looking at you after he scores
He’d do the same as Kaiser after the game: strut up to you and expect complements
Otoya would invite you to his next game too, fully expecting(hoping) you to show
>Karasu
When his teammates told he they saw you in the crowd, he thought they were kidding
He turned around anyway though-
Immediately smiled when he saw you
“This is exciting.”
Bro was hogging the spotlight, his teammates were so fed up with it LOL
Once they won, he cleaned himself up and went to go find you
“You never told me you were coming” (he’s not complaining though 🤭)
He’d treat you so well for the rest of the day, can’t stop smiling 
>Reo
He was SO EXCITED bro could NOT stop smiling 
It felt like he was performing so much better than usual, and may or may not have sacrificed Nagi’s goals for his own XD
Everytime he looked at you he looked so proud of himself, and hoped you thought the same
After the game, he speed-ran showing, Reo didn’t even dry his hair before looking to find you 
“Hey [Y/N], good to see you here” (he was smiling so much LOL)
Would bring you to dinner after :3  
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spookysteddie ¡ 10 months ago
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The Very First Date
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Modern!Steve Harrington x college!fem!reader
Part two to "lemon drop martini" ... Read part one here
18+ MINORS DNI
desc: you finally call Steve for that first date. And it goes better than you imagined
cw: alcohol mention (reader is not in the slightest drunk), slight Dom!Steve, cocky!Steve begging, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie. (let mw know if I missed anything)
wc: 2.8k
a/n: I hope y'all enjoy this! based off of this ask who asked me for a part two a while ago (I am so sorry). My writers block has lifted after like a year and here we are! So expect more fics soon!
...
Three days. 
You’d waited three days before calling the number on the napkin. 
Well that’s a lie. You actually called the number the next day (after eating a greasy meal, drinking a shit ton of water, and downing some aspirin… nothing like a hangover) from your roommate Alixs phone. But the second he answered, you hung up very fast. 
Alix, of course, called you a little baby back bitch and told you that you needed to call him. That it’d be nice to have some perks around your little college town. 
You rolled your eyes at the sentiment. 
To say you were nervous talking on the phone with him would be an understatement, in fact you were shitting myself. Scared he’d be able to hear it in your voice how nervous you were. Or, worse, that he wouldn’t remember you. 
Four days ago: 
“This is Steve Harrington speaking. How can I help you?”
You took a deep breath, putting a smile on your face in the hopes it’ll translate through the telephone.
“Hi, Steve. I-it’s y/n. From the bar the other night.” You cringe at the slight stutter and the wave in your voice. “You gave me your number on the napkin.” 
You can practically hear the smile in his voice, coolness seeping from his voice, “lemon drop martini girl. Of course I remember you, sweetheart.” 
You quietly sigh in relief that he remembers. 
“Oh good! I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I was a little hung over and then I had to study and take exams. Finals season.” You laugh awkwardly, cursing yourself for rambling and making a fool out of yourself. Alix would be rolling her eyes. 
Steve laughs on the other end of the line, “ah yes. I hated finals. Very frustrating. Hence why I dropped out, much to my fathers dislike.” 
One thing about you is that you love oversharing. But you love when other people overshare even more. There’s nothing like bonding over a trauma dump. 
You giggle into the phone which makes Steve giggle too, the sound mimicking a sweet song. All you want to make him do it again. 
“Anyway, sweetheart, I was wondering if you had plans for Friday night?” His tone is cool and relaxed. You could only wish to sound like that. 
Your heart pounds in your chest, words failing you for a moment. “Oh! Um, nothing actually.”
“Perfect. Hows ‘bout you and I go on a little date? I know a great place. Kinda fancy. What do you say?” 
You could kick your feet like a little girl at the prospect of going out with him. You, also, are tempted to make him wait. To give him just a little bit of a hard time. It was what you'd usually do to the men you like. But there was something in the back of your mind begging you not to. 
“I-I would like that, Steve.” 
“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Give you time to study and get ready. Take a nap even.” 
…
 “I can’t do this. I can’t go. I mean, fuck, I have nothing to wear.” 
Nothing to wear was an understatement. You could hardly see the floor of your bedroom, clothes littering it with only a small path for where you keep walking from the mirror to your closet. 
Alix sits on your bed, drinking some wine and eating some popcorn. “I liked the black leather. I don’t know why you won’t just wear that one. You look hot in it.” 
You slide your hands down the front of the blue, sequence dress you have on. “I just feel like that’s not enough. And isn’t it a little … short for a dress for a nice restaurant?” 
Alix shrugs, “I mean, probably but who cares. You look hot.” She sips her wine and says again, “well you look hot in everything.” 
You look over at her, “while that’s sweet, he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes and I need a few shots to calm my nerves so help me pick a dress, please.” 
She rolls her eyes at my dramatics, downing her wine. “I think you should wear the short black one you wore two weeks ago. Not the leather one, the velvet one. Makes your ass look great. Oh with your Louboutins! You spent a lot of money on them and have worn them once. It’s a sin.” 
One thing is for sure, you did spend a lot of money on them, charging them to your dads credit card. 
One change and two shots of vodka later, you were walkin down the steps of your condo to an awaiting Steve. He’s in dark jeans, a black t-shirt and a gray jacket. His hair is just as perfect as the last time you saw him. (which was via instagram… gotta do the research right?)
He whistles long and low as you approach, and in a quick stroke of confidence you decide to do a little spin. He claps slowly as you face him and so, you bow. Just slightly so you don’t accidentally flash him. Not the way you want to start this date. 
“Well hello to you too, Harrington,” you say as you smirk. 
He slips his hand in his pockets, a smirk on his lips that you feel right between your legs. “You look very pretty tonight, sweetheart. I mean you’d look pretty in a potato sac but,” he shrugs. “We should get going.” 
You smile and nod at him. 
And the bar is clearly in fuckin hell, because him opening the door for you makes you want to jump his bones. But then again, no man has ever opened a door for you so… we can let it slide. 
“Such a gentleman.” “Chivalry is not dead sweetheart.” 
… 
Steve is very thoughtful. Sure, he asked all the usual questions you ask on a first date. 
What’s your major?
Do you have any siblings?
What do your parents do for work?
Oh, your dad is in sales? Funny mine too.
He gives you guilt money? Mine too! Look at us 
He also, orders you and him a bottle of wine (he has great taste) but lets you order your own meal (again the bar is in fucking hell). The place he takes you to is nice and the food is the best food you’ve had since you left home after summer break. 
“So Steve, what made you decide to open up a bar in town?” You eat a spoonful of dessert, eyes never leaving his. 
He takes a spoonful of his own dessert. “I was sick of working for everyone else. I knew if I made a unique bar, something you and your friends have never seen, others would want to check it out. Then you’d tell all your friends, who’d tell their friends, etc.” He grins as he talks, keeping eye contact with you. 
It felt like a game of ‘who is going to look away first.’ A game you weren’t going to lose. Slowly, you pull the spoon out of your mouth, dipping it back in to your dessert. “Interesting. Great concept if you ask me.” 
He huffs a small laugh through his nose, “I’m glad you enjoyed my bar.” 
You scrunch your brows, the wine making you bold, “who said I enjoyed it?” 
Now he really laughs, “you seemed to really enjoy all those lemon drop martinis. So much so you had a hangover the next day. I tried giving you waters but you threatened to gut me.” 
Your jaw hangs open, “fibber.” 
“I haven’t been called a fibber since I was a kid,” he smiles. “But yes you did tell me you would gut me. And then you left and I thought I’d never hear from you again.” 
You can’t help but feel slightly guilty inside for not calling sooner. Well, you did call sooner but chickened out. 
“And here we are.” 
“Yes, here we are.” 
He seems to think for a moment, sipping his wine (one he ordered that would go well with the dessert. He was right.)
“Wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you through his lashes, tongue rolling down the inside of his cheek. 
He wasn't… demanding. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you could turn him down. That he would take you home with a smile on his face. There would be no fuss, no fight, no name calling. No pressure. 
And for that very reason, with a smile on your pretty face you answer him, “yours or mine?” 
… 
You’re not even through the door of his apartment before his mouth is on yours, his large hands on your face. The kiss starts soft, testing the waters and it isn’t very long before you deepen it. Your tongues dance but there is no fight for dominance, you let him win. You want him to win. 
His lips trail over your jaw before slowly moving down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. 
“Such a pretty girl,” he says in between kisses. 
He sucks a bruise into your shoulder, easy to cover up, just in case. You let out a soft moan, hands coming up to tug at his hair. 
“You-you’re pretty too.” 
You can feel him grin against you, head lifting as his body cages you in, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me pretty. Well besides Eddie but that was mocking.” 
You laugh, moving in and kissing him slowly, sweetly, “you are a very pretty boy.” 
You can feel his hard dick jerk at the sentiment, and you keep it as a mental note. You know, just in case you need it. 
“Fuck, can’t say shit like that.” 
“No? Why not?” 
“Cause it makes my cock hard. And it’ll be very embarrassing if I cum in my pants. Can't ruin my reputation.” The smirk on his face makes you almost pass out. You swear to God you can feel every word in your core. 
“Hmmm, we can’t have that can we?” You push his jacket off his shoulders before running your hands down to the hem of his shirt. “Should take me to bed so we don’t risk you cumin’ early.” 
It’s all the permission he needs. His lips are back on yours, his hands under your ass and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands in his hair as he carries you to the bed. 
He puts you down gently, his lips never leaving yours. Not for a moment. Not until he pulls away to tug his shirt over his head. You take the moment to take him in, his body lithe and toned.  You also can’t help noticing the scars on his side that look a little like bite marks. Bite marks from something that isn’t human, something you make a mental note to ask him about at a later date. 
“Sculpted from marble, god damn.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, never wanting to stroke a man's ego. 
Steve just grins as he finds the zipper on the side of your dress, pulling it down slowly down, his knuckles slowly touching your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You shiver under the touch and he notices. You’re quickly learning that Steve notices everything.
It isn’t long before he’s pulling the dress down your body, leaving you in only your underwear. Underwear that barely covers you, a wet patch on full display. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed. 
“Are you this wet for me?” His tone is mocking and he’s practically cooing at you, “go on. Answer me.” 
Your eyes widen. Men have been demanding in the bedroom, plenty of them thinking they’re little tough guys. But none of them get that from you, none of them deserving. You’re not sure why you want to give that to him. You’re not sure what makes him different. And honestly, that is a problem for future you to talk about in therapy. 
“Yes,” you reply, voice a little higher than usual. “S’all for you.” 
The smirk he gives you makes your heart speed up. “Such a sweet, pretty thing. God, I want to devour you.” 
His lips move to your chest, sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. You can’t help but arch into his mouth, a small moan falling from your lips, his hand coming to play with your neglected breast. And it isn’t long before he swaps sides, his teeth nipping and sucking. 
“Please. More.” 
He laughs, moving to oblige you and kissing down your sternum before settling between your legs. “May I?” 
Him asking makes your heart stutter in your chest, “yes. God yes. Please.” 
Steve tugs your underwear down your legs, tossing them to meet the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I think I could get used to praying to me.” 
He doesn’t give you time to answer before he licks up your cunt, stopping at the top to suck on your clit. The moan that comes out of you is loud and you’re thankful the windows are closed. “Fuck, Steve!” 
He pushes a finger inside of you, curling them to reach the spongy spot inside you. “And you moaning my name is even better. Why don’t you do it again, angel” 
He pushes another finger inside you, the burn causing you to grip his hair. “Steve please!” 
“Please what, sweetheart?” 
He moves his fingers faster, continuing to hit your sweet spot over and over again. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking gently. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, listening to every sweet moan and sigh that comes out of you. He files them away in his brain so he never forgets what drives you crazy. 
“Need to… I-I need” 
He sucks hard before pulling back, “need what? Go on, use your words.” 
You gasp, “to cum. I- please.” 
Begging wasn’t what you did for men. If anything, they begged you. Begged you to let them cum. 
Steve doesn’t say a word, just grins and uses his free hand to press on your stomach. That is your undoing. “Steve!” You pulse around his fingers, breath getting caught in your chest. You feel warm all over, head emptying as he works you through it. 
“That’s it baby. That’s a good girl. Bet that feels so good doesn’t it?” 
You try to answer, you really do. But all you can manage is a small nod. 
“Gonna let me fuck you?” 
Again, you can only manage a nod. 
“That’s my girl.” 
And before you can even process his words, he flips you over on your stomach, hands pulling your hips in the air. You’re on full display for him. He can see everything. But you couldn't care less, all you want is him inside you. 
And you get your wish. He moves slow, making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He’s big and you can feel every inch of him stretching you. It’s a tight fit even with how wet you are. 
“Holy shit this pussy is amazing baby. Squeezing me so tight.” 
His other hand braces himself by your head before dropping down to his forearms. He’s so close to you now, inside and out, his hips moving slowly so you adjust to him, and his breath fanning across your face. 
“F-faster. Faster.” Your hands rake down his back, nails digging into his back, making him hiss. 
He snaps his hips faster, grinning down at you. “Just so needy huh?” 
You nod feverishly, “yes. F-feels so fucking good.” 
He laughs at you now, kisses you. “Such a dirty mouth, baby. Pretty girls aren’t supposed to swear.” 
“Says-says you… swear all the time. L-like a sailor.” 
He hums. “Dirty mouth for a dirty fuckin girl.” 
“That-that’s me.”
He fucks you faster and you feel like coil growing tighter and tighter inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, not wanting him to get too far away. He groans and you can tell he’s close. 
“Want… no need you to cum inside me. I’ll d-die if you don’t,” you beg. You know you’ll probably regret it in the morning, all that you’ve said here in this bedroom. But at the moment you can’t find it inside you to care. Mainly because he was taking up every inch of you. 
“Yeah? Need it? I’ll give it to you baby. Will give you anything you want.” 
And it’s all you need to fall over the edge, walls clenching around him so hard he falls with you. A mutual “fuck!” falls from both your and his lips. 
You're both panting as you come down from the high. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses you sweetly. Suddenly Steve is giggling, his head falling into the crook of your neck.
“What? Why are you laughing?” you ask with just a little bit of worry. 
“I am so fucking glad you ordered a lemon drop martini.”
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heavenlyfay3 ¡ 9 months ago
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Sweet Like Sugar
Rick Grimes x reader
cw: smut, p in v, age gap, fingering
Rick was always so sweet to you he was the only one of your dad’s friends that you actually liked he never asked anything of you like the others did when they came to your house
the other two would always boss you around tell you to get them beers not ask basically demanding and of course your dad didn’t pay attention to it or care for that matter
Rick was different he didn’t ask or demand instead he told them to have some respect and he got up and got the beers himself he’d even apologize to you and sweeten you up by calling you that nickname that was only known by the two of you “Sugar”
He’d only call you that when no one was around when he'd ask you questions he didn’t actually care to get the answer too he just wanted to watch you to look at what he couldn’t have but craved so bad he wanted to look at the way your lips moved when you talked only for a second imagining them around his hard-on
not only are you too young you're his best friend's daughter although you’re an adult he’d still feel wrong about it but was he wrong was he really? Deep down you feel the same about him you’d hate to say it out loud but you wanted and craved him just as much as he did. you wanted to feel him inside you even if it was just his fingers
Not to mention that boyfriend of yours you only dated cause your friends kept asking when you'd get one and your parents liked him even though you didn't really he was an ok person but he wasn’t Rick. you'd never let him get farther than kissing you told him you were waiting till marriage really you just weren’t attracted to him
You were too busy thinking about Rick to find another guy attractive
no one noticed when he walked past you in the kitchen pressing his bulge against your ass and softly grabbing your hips to get to the fridge it was the hottest day of the year and your dad decided to have a barbecue of course Rick was invited and he needed a drink to cool down
no one noticed when it was just the two of you in the kitchen and he hugged you almost too tightly and almost for too long his strong arms wrapping around your frail body chest to chest his bulge pressing against your stomach his face in your neck taking your scent in for as long as he possibly could
no one noticed after you accidentally spilled lemonade on your cleavage and went to the bathroom to clean yourself up Rick followed you moments later you weren't expecting him to but you were hoping it was like he could read your mind or your body
"Mr.Grimes?" you called his name ever so sweetly but he hated it he hated when you called him that "Rick" sounded way better coming from those sugar-sweet lips of yours
"What did I tell you about that sugar?" he said with his eyes switching swiftly between your cleavage and your lips. he moved closer to you encasing your body between him and the bathroom sink
"m'sorry Rick i-i just got nervous when I saw you" You placed your hands on his arms that were on both sides of your hips and looked up at him with innocent eyes
"why have you been teasing me all day hhm sugar?" he asked looking for an actual answer Rick was a grown man he didn't like to be teased he liked it when his women said what they wanted so he could do exactly what they asked of him
in truth, you didn't actually mean to tease him although you did particularly pick a short sun dress that hadn't fit for years and that showed your tits in the best way you also bent down in front of him to get a beer from the cooler outside for your dad and you did look up at him with a sly smile biting your lip when he hugged you in the kitchen but you didn't mean to tease him right?
"you trying to frustrate me?....get my cock all hard for you and then do nothing bout it?"
"n-no sir i didn't mean to I swear I-" Before you could finish your sentence Rick slammed his lips against yours he was tired of talking he wanted you all day he was going to wait until everyone at the barbecue left to pretend to be a little too drunk to drive home and ask your dad if he could crash on the couch just to sneak up to your bedroom and have his way with you
He couldn't take it anymore if you were gonna be a tease he was gonna have you in the bathroom. As he kissed you one of his hands snaked around your hip and pulled you close the same way he did in the kitchen his other hand made its way to your thighs parting them for you to open your legs and give him access to your aching cunt
to his surprise, you weren't wearing panties. after the hug in the kitchen, they were soaked and you took them off upstairs in your bedroom you were gonna put on a new pair but you got distracted your mom called you back downstairs to help her with something
he felt heat coming from your needy cunt as you opened your legs for him and he stopped the kiss and looked into your eyes "No, panties Sugar?" he asked amused
you were embarrassed to admit he got you soaking wet without even touching you inappropriately just with his hands on your body "i- um th-they were too wet"
"oh really?" he asked as he palmed your pussy and rubbed the tip of his finger against your hole earning a gasp from your lips. you threw your head back as his hand started its attack on your clit using two fingers to rub it softly and slowly tease you just like you did him.
you'd never been touched like this by anyone but yourself even then you couldn't satisfy yourself to completion Rick's hands felt so much better than yours they were bigger, rougher and he definitely knew what he was doing "mhm Rick please i-i need more"
"More? you've never even had someone's hand on your pussy and you're asking for more?" he teased and teased you god did you regret doing it to him "please Rick" you begged
He took his time playing with your pussy going back to kiss you again as his finger slowly made its way to your hole stuffing it inside you thrusting you whined and whimpered even though you got more it wasnt enough you needed his cock
He inserted a second finger and curled them both as his other hand came up to your hip guiding you to sit on the bathroom counter and you did also putting your leg up giving him more access
you’re moans got louder as he used the position to rub your clit with his thumb and curl his two fingers inside you “oh god” you gripped his shoulders
“that’s my good girl soon you’ll be able to take my cock”
the two of you snapped out of the daze you were as you heard banging on the door luckily Rick locked it after following you “Y/n?….you okay you’ve been in there a while”
it was your boyfriend he had came at the worst possible time and Rick wasn’t letting up His fingers thrusting into your wet cunt earning a mix of a moan and gasp from you “i’m-i’m alright babe i’ll be out in a minute” “babe?” Rick mouthed at you he found it childish
“uh okay just come find me when your done okay?” your boyfriend said behind the door “yea okay” you made sure you heard his footsteps walk away before returning your attention to Rick and he was unbuckling his pants
The sight of his cock had you breathless you knew he was big but not this big it was about 9 inches veiny and thick there was no way you could take him
“Rick, holy shit” you said looking down at it “don’t make my ego bigger than it already is Sugar” you felt like he wasn’t taking you seriously he knew you were a virgin you told him even though you didn’t mean to you just blurted out one day
“why do you think i’ve been fingering you huh? i wouldn’t have wasted so much time if you weren’t a virgin”
“mhm okay j-just be gentle” Rick lined himself up to your hole and you gripped his shoulders tighter in their spot as he slowly pushed himself inside you taking a second with every inch. you took a breath as he did and ignored the pain as he grabbed your jaw and placed sweet kisses all over your face whispering that it was gonna be okay that it was gonna feel good soon
and it did he saw how your scrunched eyebrows relaxed and how the hands gripping his shoulders started to let go and move down his arms he started thrusting into your sopping wet cunt the sounds it made filling the bathroom
“Fuck” you moaned out he grabbed your hips as he slammed his hard cock into your hole over and over again every fascination every late night thinking about you with his hand around his shaft nothing could compare to the real thing
“that’s it baby, just like that” he said praising you as you moaned and whimpered you were getting too loud and you hadn’t even noticed he moved a hand from your hip to cover your mouth
“listen to you, you’re so needy whining like that around my cock you’ve been begging for this haven’t you?”
you could barely hear Rick you were too focused on the way he was making you feel him finally fucking you like you’ve wanted for so long it was so much better than you imagined you were too focused on the way he was holding your lips as he attacked your pussy now all red and swollen
Your slutty moans echoing in the bathroom, Rick prayed that no one would hear how he was good he was fucking you. “come here, Sugar” he said as he wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped his around your body pulling you into a hug as his thrusts got sloppy and deeper thrusting up into you he was so close but he didn’t want to cum before you
you held Rick tight and moaned in his ear telling him you loved him as your legs started to shake and your mind went blank
a/n:this was not supposed to be as long as it is i honestly didn’t even plan on writing it..it literally came out of nowhere i was gonna start punishment or pleasure pt2 but i obviously got distracted
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indigosunsetao3 ¡ 2 months ago
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Feral thought of the evening.
There must be something in the air because this came out of nowhere. Written purely on my phone so not super proofread…I’ll do that on the computer sometime this weekend.
Dropping this and running 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️
Female Reader | tied up, spitting, spanking, squirting
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You had worn the little cotton shorts on purpose. Knew that they drove him right up the wall watching how the fabric bunched over your plush thighs and barely covered your ass. How the v between your legs left little to the imagination as the fabric dug into your delicate skin.
So when he gets you bent over the bed after a few hours of teasing, you smirk to yourself as he plucks at them. How he tugs the bunched cotton free from where it had been trapped to rub his fingers along the inside of the gusset. Which you know is wet and judging by the appreciative hum he has figured that out as well.
"Did you wear these for me?" He questions as a hand smooths over the globe of your ass to grab at the hem. "Or to tease me?" He asks, giving you a smart slap that makes your blood sing.
"Both," you answer as you stretch like a cat over the cool sheets, letting your arms splay in front of you as you rest your cheek on the bed. "I know you can't resist them."
"Mmm, I think you also like when the other guys watch you," he taunts as he curls his fingers over the elastic waist and tugs them barely down your backside. "Like the attention," his tone shifts slightly, dropping an octave as he tugs a little more. "Like imagining what they must be thinking about you."
You whine a bit and wiggle wanting him to move faster.
"Oh, you want a reward for how you behaved today?" Alex asks as he bends over your back, planting one of his fists on the bed beside you to hold his weight. "Do you think you deserve that? For making Soap squirm in his seat when you bent so far over to pick up that napkin for him?" He smirks as you roll your head over to glance up at him, still splayed out in a submissive posture that you knew he craved.
"I do," you barely whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. "Because you were watching me just as closely. Watching me as I carefully leaned across the Captain's lap to get a drink for you." He enjoyed the game. Enjoyed watching men lust for you but restrain themselves because they knew that he'd make them disappear for good if they touched something of his without permission. All a dance, all a taunt.
He pulls your shorts down further, exposing your thoroughly soaked cunt to the air. The satisfied sigh that leaves your lips is short-lived as he yanks your shorts taut, pulling the center of them into his fist. The thin line of fabric digs into your thighs as he tugs, and you feel him twist the shorts, forcing your legs together tight.
The shorts you had used to get his attention, to start this game, were going to be your punishment.
You shift a bit, but your legs are locked. Nowhere to go as he holds fast to the balled-up cotton that has turned into biting vices on your thighs. You dart your eyes up to him, a hint of apprehension in your expression and he just smirks at you. When he leans back off his supporting arm, he runs a taunting finger down your cheek before disappearing from your view.
"I think I'll keep you like this for a bit," he remarks as he appraises you, the fingers of his free hand sliding just outside your folds, making you squirm. "Keep still," he warns as he twists the fabric a fraction of an inch tighter so it stings. "You wanted me to look at you, so let me look at you."
He digs his nails into the back of your legs, scratching enough that goosebumps flash across your skin. You can feel your skin heating under his scrutinizing gaze and ache to just turn back and see him, but you know better than to disobey.
"Arch higher," Alex orders as he pushes a palm against your lower back, making your upper body sink even further into the bed.
You do as he orders and grab at the edge of the bed for support when you feel it. He had been so quiet about it that your body instantly jerks at the wet slide, but he grasps your hip to keep you from going far. From wasting it.
You can feel the spit slide from your rim to your entrance and glide down toward your clit before being cut off with how tight your thighs are clamped together. The groan of need escapes you as you bite your lip, doing your best to pry open your legs to let the wad soothe the burning pressure in the apex of your thighs.
"Something wrong?" Alex asks as he trails a finger through the spit that has glided down the seam of your legs. He slowly drags it up, and you tense, waiting before he finally rubs the slickness against your folds. You sigh with relief as he smooths his fingers over you, spreading you apart as he does.
"Please," you whine as you try to push back against his taunting fingers. He's barely sunk them into you and as he feels you push he pulls away. You are doing this on his terms.
"Stay still," he orders again, and you swallow the agitated huff, knowing he'll just prolong it even more. And, as if he suspects you'll protest, he waits to move. When you stay silent, he chuckles a bit, "good girl."
The praise sings along your skin, and you grin to yourself before a filthy moan escapes your lips. Without warning, he pushes two fingers into you, as far as they can go, and you clamp hard around the welcomed invasion.
The stretch burns, but you don't fight it. Instead, you huff as he begins to work you open properly, fingers scissoring and twisting until slick noises and your pants fill the room.
Alex doesn't let you help him at all, hand still holding tight to the shorts to stop you from opening your legs to make it easier. To keep you from releasing that building pressure on the bundle of nerves so the blood pounds almost painfully.
“Keep going,” you beg, forehead on the sheets now as you try to arch more. There’s no room for you to go anywhere; your body contorted to its max. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t ease up as he fucks you with three fingers now, making you slick and pliant.
When you come, it’s loud and shuddering, your body tensing and trying to coil on itself. He continues to push you through it. As you come down, back unlocking to a more relaxed position, he draws his fingers away. But you aren’t empty for long.
He quickly notches at your entrance, hand tugging your thighs back to him with your shorts. You hiss at the bite of cloth on your already sensitive skin, sure that you’ve got some type of fabric burn and will certainly bruise. He doesn’t acknowledge your quiet protest as he slides himself in.
“Still fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out.
He’s not wrong. With the way he has your legs locked, he feels that much bigger, and you feel that much fuller. You can feel every ridge of him as he rocks his hips back before snapping forward again, punching the air out of your lungs.
Alex isn’t gentle. Each snap of his hips makes you gasp, and you fight to keep your body in the same spot to meet him. His thighs slap yours sending a vibration to your still clenched clit. You need to release the pressure, need to ease that ache that’s starting to consume you.
“Please,” you whine, voice a pathetic lilt as you reach a hand back to pry at your shorts. You scramble one-handed at them, trying to pull them off your skin, out of his grasp. “Please I need,” you try and Alex slows his movements to watch you fumble about.
“What do you need?” He coos as you try to look up at him, eyes rolling up as he snaps forward into you again. “Use your words,” he taunts as he grinds into you.
“The pressure, I feel like,” you start, but he knows. He knows exactly what is happening because he can tell how your body is squeezing him.
In an instant, he lets go of your shorts, the fabric loosening its biting grip on your legs. You can feel the blood rush to your numbing feet, and you open your legs to let some of that building tension in your clit ease.
But Alex’s hand is there. He’s coaxing that tension to explode instead of dissipating. As he pushes into you just a bit deeper, now that your legs are opened wider for him, you come undone.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Alex says as you push up on both hands to try to regain some semblance of control. Your body feels like it never has before and has done something you’ve never experienced.
“Fuck you’ve needed to come, haven’t you?” He asks as his fingers rub hard circles against your clit, so soaked you’re afraid you didn’t just come. “So wet for me,” he praises as he slides his fingers to smear the slick over your lower belly and hip before he grabs you again to continue to fuck you.
You lean back into him as he sets a ferocious pace into you, so slick and soft for him now there is zero resistance. You keen as you feel him tighten and twitch inside of you, and when he growls his release, you cry out as he fills you.
Alex snaps his hips a few more times before he stops moving and lets you fall forward into the bed spent. You feel as if your whole body is twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But those twitches are nothing compared to the overstimulated flinch you body makes as Alex smoothes his hand over your ass and between your legs to play with the mix of his spend and yours.
“I’m going to have to tie up your legs more often if it’s going to get you to squirt all over me like that,” Alex says with a small laugh as he gently spreads your legs more to get a look at the mess you both made.
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windvexer ¡ 11 months ago
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what's your opinion on pop culture witchcraft? i think it seems really fun and cool im just not sure how exactly a fictional god will manifest in the "real" world? i was just curious on what you thought :p thank you for your time!
I think that pop culture witchcraft is beautiful and sacred and I think more people should get into it!
My views on the intersection of popular culture (aka, the dominant cultural beliefs and creations at this moment in time) and witchcraft originate from the fact that when I began doing a lot of energy work, I saw a lot of stuff as video game characters & assets.
If I would binge any video game, for the next little while, a lot of my energy readings would be output in the symbols and lore from that game.
E.g., a pokemon binge, seeing Gengar near the querent: "Yes, you're being haunted by a ghost."
A DAO binge, seeing a dryad writing a letter to the querent: "A tree wants to talk to you."
These experiences have deeply influenced my beliefs on the nature of psychism, communing with the spirit world, and divination as a whole. It has inspired my beliefs on how to work with divinatory tools, especially my concepts of choosing your own symbol sets to work with.
After all, an upright triangle is so abstract, but a charmander? For many of us, that is a deeply rooted symbol of fire indeed! And I can't imagine how a triangle might act if it needs to be revived and balanced in my life, but I can surely visualize a charmander feeling sick and cold, or desperately trying to stack and balance heavy boxes.
This inspired me to consider the intersection of popular culture and the experiential nature of witchcraft. After all, aren't so many of us deeply imprinted on and influenced by what culture has told us about magic and spirits? Where is the line in the sand between how culture makes us interact with magic (path), and how culture makes us interact with magic (practice)?
Let me tell you a story!!
There is some internet monster named Momo. Momo has a *very* scary face (to me at least) so be warned if you google.
But when this story starts, I had never heard of Momo. I had never seen a picture of Momo or heard her name. Yes? Yes.
Now one time, I was doing an energy reading for a person, and I saw a horrifying monster woman with huge eyes and a twisted smile like a V slashed across her face, and not only this, but the horrifying monster woman was standing over the querent's bed, watching them sleep.
As a reader with about an ounce of wisdom, I knew much better than to say, "hey, a horrifying monster is watching you while you sleep." Because that is a dick thing to say to anyone.
As I continued watching to try and gain more information, it struck me that this monster woman wasn't threatening at all. She didn't have bad vibes. In fact she seemed neutral, or perhaps even an ally. She was just watching the person sleep.
I couldn't help but notice, however, that I could see her face so clearly. So distinctly. So I googled something like, "big smile scary woman face."
And there she was: Momo! The exact monster I was seeing. It was a startling moment, made all the more strange by the fact that this wasn't some monster of mythical lore or legend. It was like, a TikTok trend or something.
Finally I had to tell the querent something. Now y'all this happened some years ago and I don't remember exactly how it went down, but it was like this:
"Hey, someone is watching you sleep. The form is scary looking but they don't seem threatening at all. I googled it and it looks exactly like an internet urban legend named Momo."
"What? My cat?"
"No, it's a woman, an urban legend named Momo."
"No, my cat Momo. My cat is named Momo. She watches me while I sleep."
So to answer your question, Anon:
I expect that a fictional god can manifest at least as bizarrely as a real cat, I believe that the simple phrase "real world" is an artifact that fits into few reliquaries of the occult, and I think that pop culture witchcraft is absolutely fabulous.
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bloodyneptune ¡ 5 months ago
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Sister Sage theory:
I think her plan is to drive Homelander to do something that'll have people turning on Supes and Vought. So she starts pushing him to see himself as superior and humans as something he shouldn't care about killing.
That would feed into Homelanders need for love and approval, because hed only want it from people who are 'worthy'. He already thinks hes better than most supes, so of course the only 'worthy' person is Ryan.
But look what she did by insulting Ryans suit as not being 'unique', it hit Homie in the ego, which caused him to ruin Ryans first foray into Superheroing and turning him away from the only thing Homie has to bond with him, pushing him to Butcher. Which triggered Homelanders need for control, while shes causing uncontrollable chaos in the world around him. The more chaos, the more he has to control, the bigger the chaos the bigger his actions will be
He'll snap, massacre some folks, and everyone will be terrified and vote for all that anti supe legislation, crippling Vought. Which I think is her goal, she clearly doesn't enjoy her powers, and Vought is the reason she's got to lobotomize herself just for a break.
She's based on Lex Luthor, who's whole thing was stopping Superman from taking over the world, and Ozymandias who was cool killing millions to save billions with an incredibly intricate plan involving working with, tricking, and ruining the reputation of his 'Superman' (Manhattans even referred to as 'the Superman' at one point)
But theres more! I think she's working with Neuman, and knew Homelander would go to her if they just put her name in front of him. The most prominent book on her table is 'Beyond Human' almost like she set the scene for him.
Why do I think this? You know what causes strokes? Lack of blood flow to the brain. Do we know any supes that can control blood and would want Hughie distracted from his mission? See, I think his mom is being forced to work with someone, because theres no WAY his dad gave the power to make medical decisions on his behalf to a lady who he cant count on, that he talked to a few times after two decades, over his SON who knows him better than anyone. And no way he didnt know his dad had a DNR.
I think they caused the stroke, changed his will, and planted his mom there to make sure his only option was V. Why would his mom even look in his pocket, know what was in the vial, or how to administer it? It's one of Voughts biggest secrets. So someone had to know he had it and told her (You notice the side eye that Sage gave A Train when Hughie texted? He's one of the most famous people on earth in the middle of filming a blockbuster, theres no reason for a sus side eye if he gets a text...unless she knew)
[POTENTIAL SPOILERS] And most of us know what happens when you give V to someone who's brain dead (lets just say his dads not making it to the Winchester this time). Maybe its a ploy to make Vought look bad, cause chaos, maybe he'll have to take his own dad down and they have plans for Hughie that they need him in a certain mindset for. Idk, Im not the worlds smartest person
I think the whole theme of this season is "nobody is who they seem", and I think Sage is going to do what nobody else could, and bring them down. Id love it if next season was a take on the Mutant Registration Act. Could you imagine Homelander, on the run, thinking supes are superior to humans? Still with his need for love and adoration? Dude, he'd be Magneto (with several personality disorders).
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ryker-writes ¡ 1 year ago
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Hello, so i apparently have a brain rot about twst characters being concerned about their siblings mental health due to their taste in men
The younger sibling of Vil while having both the looks and skills of their brother and father, also has a small amount of stage fright and loves video games, so they end up becoming a v-tuber and develop a small crush on an internet friend and moderator who irl is Idia Shroud, maybe after revealing that they got accept to nrc the two decide to meet up irl and while Idia is lagging due to the error messages in his brain, little schoenheit's small crush develops into a full infatuation, Vil is so so concerned
I love this idea. While normally I write requests in bullet point format, I hope you don't mind that I wrote this one differently. I'm sorry if you don't like it as much because of this, I just felt like writing like this does requests like this better than my usual bullet point style
Request rules and Masterlist
As a part of the Schoenheit family, it was only natural that you had developed the acting and modeling skills as well as the good looks. It's just something that had been engrained into your lifestyle at a young age. Your father had you and Vil acting together from a young age, and Vil would always help you with everything.
The main thing he always had to help you with was your stage fright. While he and your father never had any problem being on stage, you hated it. Having everyone's eyes on you and the pressure not to mess up was all too much for you.
Perhaps that was why you liked video games so much. Online, no one knew who you really were, and that gave you a sense of freedom. No one could actually see you, and it gave you a sense of freedom. They didn't stare at you, and you didn't have to see them staring at you. There was a screen between you and them at all times.
But that desire to perform and entertain was still strong within you. Maybe it was just part of being a Schoenheit. Thankfully, the internet is a wonderful place full of opportunities, and you were able to find a way to play the video games you loved so much while performing for others.
Being a v-tuber was so much more fun than you had imagined. It's the perfect way to entertain and build an audience while playing video games too. The perfect job for you.
You were even able to connect with others and make new friends too. One of these friends was a moderator by the screenname Gloomurai. You had fun talking to him both in and out of streaming for others.
He understood you so well! The two of you were able to bond about a lot of things, mainly your love for video games and how scary it was to be in front of other people. And eventually, you even found out that he's a student at Night Raven College, the school you're going to be attending.
After a little bit of convincing and deliberating, the two of you decided to meet. Not anywhere out in the public eye with lots of people of course. So the two of you picked an isolated corner of the school, and waited until evening to go meet up.
To say you were nervous was an understatement. Gloomurai was a close friend and even a small crush of yours. He was just so understanding and cool. Now you were going to meet him in person. So many things could go wrong.
But you were the one to get there first, and you waited patiently for Gloomurai to show up. As the minutes passed, your nerves only grew.
Until finally, a very pale figure rounded the corner. He was tall, but hunched over like he'd been sitting and playing video games for a long time before this. Perhaps the most noticeable thing about his appearance was the long blue flames of hair and the bright yellow eyes that only met yours for a second before quickly flickering away.
Idia Shroud; the most reclusive guy in school. He rarely ever left his room and was known for being an introvert and amazing with technology. The housewarden of Ignihyde...he was Gloomurai?????
He's amazing! Truly amazing. Of all the people he could've been, you're glad it was Idia.
Idia on the other hand was freaking out. His favorite streamer and crush...was Vil Schoenheit's little sibling??? He's broken. His brain cannot compute. Error error.
"You're Gloomurai, right?"
"I, uh, yeah. I guess."
It was...pretty awkward for the first few minutes of talking. Neither of you quite knew what to say at first, but eventually conversation would flow smoothly just like when you guys normally chat. It felt really nice to be able to talk to him in person actually, and you finally got to put a face to the moderator you developed a crush on.
So when you saw Vil again, you couldn't help but gush about your crush.
"He's so much better than I thought! I mean we talked for a while and got along very well. He's super cute too!"
"Are you sure you're talking about Idia Shroud? Cute definitely aren't the words I would use to describe him."
"Of course he's cute! I mean have you seen his hair and his eyes? He also has a really nice smile."
"I don't understand you. Are you sure you're okay mentally?"
"I've never been better."
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melissa-titanium ¡ 8 months ago
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HELLOOO CAN I TALK TO YOU ABT DOLL
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do you think that like, her being at school let her have some escape from her home and her revenge plans, like in this picture she is smiling and it looks way more like a happy smile than here
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SHE IS HAPPY TO GET HER REVENGE, BUT SHE LOOKS SO TIRED, EVEN HER LAUGH IS TIRED
its like shes getting worse from the kills, in her house there was enough oil for her to not kill any other drones, yet her plan had to work, but it didnt, and only let her feeling more guilty
EVERYONE IS ALLOWED TO SEND ME SHIT ABOUT DOLL ALWAYS AT ANY TIME EVER FOREVER AND EVER. I LITERALLY NEED HER. SHES SO FUCKING COOL. BUT OMG HI YES HOLD ON
thats such an interesting take on pilot doll omg HI???? YES I CAN TOTALLY SEE THIS CONSIDERING WE DONT SEE DOLL IN SCHOOL OUTSIDE OF THE PILOT. HIIII YES OMG ok ok.
i havent actually thought this much about this. i personally think her in the pilot vs her in promening was like. not really a Whole big difference but like...the fact that lizzy now has access to v set her off. shes always been a little unsettling, a little fucking deranged but maybe something happened between ep 1 and 3 thatr was like. lizzy came to her like... hey, one of the disassembly drones came by my bunk the other day. was this the one? (shows doll a pic) and doll just FUcking Loses it . i think she was actively vengeful during the pilot too but YES like ur saying its almost a .grounding thing. everyone here is real and alive. and then at the end of the day she has to go back and face dozens upon dozens upon dozens of corpses that are there because of HER and its liike. idk i imagine shes 18-22 . shes young as hell. and that FUCKS WITH YOU. this is doll to me:
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they know damn well her parents are dead but she's just under being eerie enough that no one really suspects her for anything going on. she's relatively normal around lizzy & not aggressive but not outgoing with other students. like to everyone, shes just a normal kid who lost her parents. plenty of kids have lost their parents, considering the murder drones lurking *right outside the bunker.*
i think she would get tired. yeah. she held onto the all consuming debilitating hatred for these genocidal war machines that killed her parents and countless others. then heartbeat happens, and suddenly people are Okay with them??? that would fucking set her OFF. so long, so fucking long shes been holding onto her anger and not being able to do anything about it . BUT NOW SHE CAN. ough ok but then theres those conflicting feelings bcos of uzi. u can see in promening she has SOME sense of... for lack of a better word, humanity in how she treats uzi (hell even tossing lizzy out of the way when she started killing people.) i think she picks and choses who she cares about and then is usually consistent in how she treats them. basically; dont get on her bad side. she's conflicted at the end of ep3 after learning uzi has the solver; but uzi is siding with the murder drones and thats HER loss for being SCHTUPIDDDDDDDD!!!! but then again, she finally has someone who understands what shes going through... but also AUGH..! i have to kill v i HAVE to kill v ive gotten so far i cant give up now FUCK!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!! i think there would be so much of her being conflicted between uzi knows what i feel. but also uzi is siding with the bitch who killed my fucking parents. i think she would just spiral and spiral until dead end comes along and she has a decision to make. and she makes it. and uzi is Fucked and v is Fucked and n and tessa are FUCKEd AND OK TYHIS IS GETTING LONG IM DONE
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doll jumpscare
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