#like that wasn’t the focus of the fic just the setting but it was so good

[nickeverdeen]

Game Over | Gamer!Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Pairings: Ellie Williams x fem!reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Smut, Romance, Humor, Fluff (I think?)

Warnings: Eat out, teasing

Summary: You decided to make a bet with Ellie and will do anything to make sure she loses

——————

The sun was setting over Jackson, casting a warm orange glow through the windows of the small house you shared with Ellie. The evening had settled into a comfortable routine—Ellie parked on the couch, PlayStation controller in hand, and you either beside her or lounging on the bed, content just to be in her company.

Tonight, though, you had a plan.

You sauntered into the living room, feeling the oversized hoodie you were wearing brush against your thighs. It was Ellie’s favorite—worn, soft, and slightly too big for you, but you loved how it felt, how it smelled like her. You knew she’d notice it the moment you walked in.

And she did.

Ellie glanced up from her game, her eyes narrowing as she spotted you. “Hey, isn’t that my hoodie?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, plopping down next to her on the couch. “Was your hoodie. Now it’s mine.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh, is that so? I’d like it back one day, you know.”

“Nah,” you replied, pulling the sleeves over your hands playfully. “It’s mine now. Besides, it looks better on me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips told you she didn’t really mind. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered, turning back to the screen.

You watched as she navigated through the game’s menu, fingers flying over the buttons with practiced ease. An idea popped into your head, one that made your smile grow wider. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Hmm?” she responded, not looking away from the screen.

“I’ve got a dare for you.”

Ellie finally glanced over at you, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “A dare?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the mischievous grin threatening to spill onto your face. “Yeah. If you lose this game, you don’t get the hoodie back. And… you have to take me out and pay for dinner.”

Ellie chuckled, shaking her head. “And what happens if I win?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Same deal. You win, I give you the hoodie back, and I have to suffer the ‘punishment’ of you paying for my dinner.”

Ellie considered this, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Alright, but there’s gotta be some ground rules. If you start getting in front of the TV, pushing me, or tickling me, the deal’s off.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender. “Anything else is fair game?”

Ellie nodded. “Anything else.”

“Deal,” you agreed, your mind already racing with possibilities as she started the game.

Ellie was good—really good, and you knew it. But that was part of the fun. You watched her play for a while, your gaze flitting between the screen and her focused expression, trying to find the perfect moment to make your move.

Ellie was so engrossed in the game that she didn’t notice when you slid off the couch and knelt in front of her. Her concentration was absolute as she navigated through the challenges on-screen, her fingers deftly moving across the controller.

It wasn’t until you tugged at her pants and boxers, sliding them down just enough, that Ellie finally noticed what you were doing. Her eyes widened, and she glanced down at you, her voice low and strained. “What the hell are you doing?”

You looked up at her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “You said anything else was fair game. Just trying to distract you.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t stop you. “You’re pushing it,” she warned, though her voice was shaky. “Is this too much?”

You paused, giving her an out, but Ellie shook her head after a moment. “No, keep going.”

With her permission granted, you leaned in, pressing your lips to her thigh before moving up, your tongue flicking out to taste her. Ellie gasped, her grip on the controller tightening as she fought to keep her focus on the game.

You took your time, teasing her with gentle licks and soft kisses, feeling the tension building in her thighs as she struggled to keep playing. You could tell she was trying to ignore you, to focus on the game, but every time your tongue dipped between her folds, she faltered.

Ellie bit down on her lip, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as you finally settled on her clit, swirling your tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. Her hips bucked involuntarily, pressing herself closer to your mouth, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You had her right where you wanted her.

She tried to keep her eyes on the screen, but you could see her struggling. Her movements were becoming sloppy, her timing off, and you knew it was only a matter of time before she lost the game.

But Ellie was stubborn. She clenched the controller harder, trying to regain her focus as you continued your assault. You pressed your tongue against her clit, harder this time, then flicked it, causing her to jolt. She let out a low moan, her head falling back against the couch for a moment before she forced herself to look at the screen again.

You decided to take it up a notch. Sliding two fingers inside her, you curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made her gasp louder. Ellie’s whole body tensed, and you knew she was close, her resolve crumbling by the second.

Ellie’s hands were shaking now, her fingers fumbling over the buttons as she desperately tried to finish the game before she finished herself. But it was no use. Her focus shattered completely as you sucked on her clit, and with a final, frustrated cry, she dropped the controller.

You didn’t stop, though. You kept going, determined to push her over the edge. Ellie’s hands shot to your hair, gripping tightly as she bucked against your mouth, her breaths turning into ragged, desperate moans.

“Fuck, I can’t—” Ellie gasped, her voice cracking as you pushed her closer and closer to the brink. “I’m gonna—”

Her words were cut off by a sharp cry as her orgasm ripped through her, her body trembling violently as she came on your tongue. You didn’t let up, working her through it until she was a quivering, breathless mess beneath you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ellie’s grip on your hair loosened, and she slumped back against the couch, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you climbed up onto the couch next to her.

“Told you I’d win,” you teased, your voice breathless but triumphant as you leaned against her.

Ellie shot you a look, still trying to steady her breathing. “You fucking cheated,” she accused, but there was no real bite to her words—just the lingering frustration of someone who had just lost a battle she wasn’t prepared to fight.

“Did not,” you shot back, grinning as you snuggled up to her. “You agreed to the rules.”

Ellie groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah yeah, whatever.”

You chuckled, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. “It’s your own fault for being so confident.”

Ellie huffed, but the irritation in her voice was fading, replaced by the playful glint that had been in her eyes earlier. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

You just grinned, shrugging. “Maybe.”

Ellie looked at you for a long moment, then, without warning, she lunged at you, pushing you back onto the couch and pinning you beneath her. “Maybe I can make you forget about that dinner.”

You laughed, though the sound caught in your throat as Ellie’s hands roamed over your body, her touch sending shivers down your spine. “I still remember,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

Ellie smirked, her hands sliding under the hoodie you were still wearing. “Well, let’s see if I can change that.”

[woundedheartwithin]

Read a fic where the Matsugane Family got folded into the Majima Family before the Tojo went belly up, and Higashi was working under Nishida, and Yagami did some work for Majima, and I’m obsessed with this idea actually

[ja3yun]

pour it | p.sh

bartender!sunghoon x bartender!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, cum plugging, choking, slight nipple play, pls never fuck your co-workers (saying from experience), mentions of alcohol ofc, not proof read, anything else lmk!

w.c: 3.5k

REQ: Imagine Sunghoon and you are bartenders for a club and all shifts you guys are always stealing glances at eachother or having lingering touches while you make drinks one day u need to go get more supplies from the back and the tension is so thick he can’t take it anymore and takes you on the boxes of supplies with messy alcohol pouring sex

a/n: hi! it's me and my inability to write a small drabble and turning it into a semi-fic. hope you don't mind, anonnie! i had a lot of fun with this but as someone who used to bartend during uni, you can imagine the flashbacks going through my mind (i also spilt the keg on me like this so, personal experience and some aj lore for you). hope you enjoy!

The club is alive with the throbbing beat of the latest hits, a kaleidoscope of coloured lights dancing over the crowd packed tightly onto the dance floor. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of alcohol. Behind the bar, it's a different world, a fast-paced rhythm of cocktail shakers, clinking glasses, and the endless chatter of patrons.

You’re in your element, expertly mixing drinks, the repetitive motions are almost second nature by now. But tonight, there's an added layer of tension simmering beneath the surface. Sunghoon, your coworker, has been brushing past you intentionally for the nth time tonight.

The bar is small, and with Freshers Friday in full swing, it’s a given that there’s going to be constant cross-overs between staff, clambering for ice and lemon wedges. But does he have to hold your waist as he passes, fingers lingering just a moment too long, or reach behind you for a glass when there are plenty on his end? Each touch sends a spark of electricity through your body, your pulse quickening despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You steal a glance at Sunghoon. He’s busy pouring a drink, his jaw set in concentration, but there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing. His dark eyes flick to yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. You turn away quickly, focusing on the drink order in front of you.

The club's atmosphere is a mix of chaos and thrill. Neon lights flicker and pulse in time with the music, casting a surreal glow over the sea of bodies moving in sync. The bass reverberates through the floor, through your bones, creating an almost tangible sense of energy.

“Excuse me,” Sunghoon’s voice is low, just above a whisper, as he leans in to reach for a bottle of vodka on the shelf behind you. His chest brushes against your back, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. You grit your teeth, trying to focus on the cocktail you’re mixing, but it’s no use. Every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence.

“Do you mind?” you snap, but your voice lacks the bite you intended. It comes out breathy, more of a plea than a command.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Sorry, Y/N. It’s just so crowded back here.” His hand trails down your arm as he pulls away, and you shudder involuntarily.

You know he’s teasing you, pushing boundaries, testing your reactions. And damn it, it’s working. You can feel the tension between you two building, a palpable thing that hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

It’s been like this since he started working here a few months ago. Training him up was harder than anticipated, not because he wasn’t good at it or couldn’t follow instructions, but because it took everything in your willpower not to pounce on him. Once, you showed him how to make the bar’s signature Long Island Iced Tea. While he was pouring the Triple Sec into the mixer, the veins on his arms and hands strained, the muscles flexing with each precise movement. It was the moment you realized you had a hand kink.

Nothing could stop your imagination since then, constantly thinking about his hands on your throat, the way they would feel gripping you, controlling you. Every time he reached past you or brushed against you, those thoughts flared to life, vivid and consuming.

The club is a frenzy of movement and sound, but all you can focus on is Sunghoon. He’s making his way back to your end of the bar, and you can feel your heart rate spike in anticipation. He stops beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat emanating from his body.

“Need help with that?” he asks, his voice smooth and teasing, as he reaches for a wine glass on the rack above your head. His arm brushes against you, and the contact sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, but your voice betrays you, coming out softer, almost breathless. He smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. He is nothing if not cocky and you do nothing but fuel it.

“Sure you do,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. His fingers trail lightly across your waist as he steps back, a fleeting touch that leaves you craving more. His cologne isn’t helping either, the dark musk of Sauvage engulfing your nostrils and filtering its way straight to your core.

You bite your lip, trying to regain your composure, but it’s no use. Your mind is racing, filled with images of his hands on you, the way they would feel exploring your body, holding you down. You can’t stop thinking about the power he seems to have over you, how easily he can make you lose focus.

Your manager comes up behind you both, pointing between you. “I need you both to change the Guinness keg. A whole team of Celtic fans just came in and they’ll bleed us dry in a minute,” he explains.

He doesn’t know that the innocent, very much part of your job request makes your heart stop for a moment. The charged energy between you and Sunghoon is so strong tonight that being alone with him, even for a second, could lead to losing all your inhibitions. You don’t mind fucking your co-workers, god knows you’ve had your fair share of fun with Jay and Heeseung in the past, but this feels different.

As soon as Sunghoon bites those teeth into you, figuratively and physically, you have a sneaking suspicion that there is no going back.

“I can handle it myself,” you say quickly, trying to avoid the inevitable. “It’s only a one-person job.”

But Sunghoon is already stepping forward, his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the stockroom. “Come on, Y/N. It’ll go faster with two,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument, waving the manager off.

His touch is subtle but it feels heavy, and you curse inwardly at how easily he affects you. You let him lead you through the throng of staff, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. This is bad, very bad.

As you enter the dimly lit back room, the noise of the club fades slightly, leaving the sound of your and Sunghoon’s footsteps and breaths as the only chorus to the quiet song of the corridor. The corridor always gives you the creeps, the lime-green walls and chipped floor make you feel sick, sicker than you already are.

It’s not even that big of a deal, so what are you panicking for? Just go in, change the keg, and get back to serving duties. Plain and simple, easy as pie.

But as you reach the keg room, your hands are trembling slightly. You push open the door and step inside, the cold air hitting you like a slap. The room is filled with the metallic scent of beer and the cool hum of the refrigeration system. Sunghoon steps in behind you, the door closing with a soft thud.

He moves to grab a keg from the stack in the corner, and you can’t help but watch, mesmerized by the way his muscles ripple under his white t-shirt. The fabric clings to him, highlighting every contour, every flex. His biceps bulge as he lifts the heavy keg effortlessly, and you swallow hard, feeling a fresh wave of heat course through you.

Focus, you scold yourself. You turn to the valve, reaching up to shut it off. Your fingers fumble slightly, the cold metal biting into your skin. You can’t stop glancing at Sunghoon, at the way his forearms strain, veins standing out in sharp relief. It’s distracting, and you’re not paying enough attention to what you’re doing.

You step forward to disconnect the old keg, but you don’t leave enough time for the pipe to empty. As you twist the connector, there’s a sudden, forceful spray of beer, catching you off guard. You yelp, trying to dodge the spray, but it’s too late.

Sunghoon is at your side in an instant, his hands covering yours as he twists the valve shut. But not before both of you are thoroughly soaked. The cold beer soaks through your clothes, making you shiver.

“Damn it,” you mutter, looking down at the mess. Your shirt clings to you, and you can feel the liquid dripping from your hair. You glance up at Sunghoon, and despite the situation, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of him drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead.

“Nice going,” he says with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You always this clumsy?”

“I usually know what I’m doing,” you retort, but there’s no heat in your words. You’re too distracted by the way his wet shirt clings to his body, outlining every muscle and defined bump of his toned stomach. 

Sunghoon steps closer, his eyes dark and intense. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low with a hint of seduction, the rasp in his voice turning you dizzy.

“Yeah, just...wet,” you reply, shivering slightly. The cold beer and the cool air of the keg room are a stark contrast to the heat building between you two. You probably should have chosen a better sentence to utter into existence, knowing how it could be taken.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “You know, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined getting you wet,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your breath catches at his words, and you know you should leave it at that, laugh it off, and walk away. But with his close proximity and his breath fanning your face, you’re almost under his spell. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, tinged with curiosity and something darker.

Sunghoon steps forward, and you instinctively step back, making your back press against the cold wall of the keg room. He eyes you up and down, licking his lips as though he was a lion hunting his prey. “You know what I mean, Y/N.”

The beat of your heart skips, and you nod, agreeing. You aren’t stupid, you’re just horny.

Leaning down to ghost his lips over yours, his eyes grow hungry as they hood over, boring into yours intensely. “I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard you can’t remember your own name,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. “I want to make you gasp for air, to hear you scream my name until your throat is raw. I want to leave marks all over your body so everyone knows what I did to you.”

You're quivering now, and every syllable sends a zap of electricity into you. His hand moves down your arm, fingertips brushing your skin and leaving a path of fire in its wake.

“I really thought I was going to lose it up there and bend you over the bar and fuck you in front of all those punters,” he continues, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath. H

A whimper escapes your lips, unbidden, and his eyes widen in surprise and delight. “Oh? You like it when others watch? You want me to drag you up there and give everyone a show?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal.

You shake your head in a daze, lust taking over because all you can breathe in is his presence. “No...not there.”  Exhibitionism isn’t really up there in your list of kinks, not really for your own dignity, you couldn’t care less about who sees you naked or fucked out, but you hate the idea of anyone seeing Sunghoon and getting ideas.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion you thought you possessed until he started at the bar. The other bartenders flirting with him in the breakroom or customers asking for his number over the bar quaked your heart a little, injecting a tiny speck of green into your bloodstream. You might have been apprehensive to start anything with Sunghoon, but that doesn’t mean others get a chance to shoot their shot.

“Oh? So what I’m hearing is you do want me to fuck you?” he presses, his voice a husky whisper. His cockiness is showing once again, tongue roaming over his sharp canine lazily as his eyes drink you in.

“Yes,” you breathe out, unable to hold back any longer. The need in your voice is unmistakable, and it only seems to fuel his desire.

Rolling his eyes in relief, he undoes your apron from the front and lets it fall to the floor. “Finally,” he mutters, his demeanour switching from teasing to something darker, more intense. In a flash, he has your black trousers unbuttoned and fully off your body, your panties following, leaving you bare with only your soaked white work t-shirt covering you.

He grabs your waist and hoists you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. With one hand, he reaches and undoes the button of his own trousers, shimmying them down slightly and whipping out his cock.

As it springs to attention, you feel it graze your folds, so close to where you desperately need it. The heat and hardness of him against your wetness make you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Sunghoon smirks, positioning himself right at your entrance. “You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your skin. “Watching you, wanting you...you kept me waiting too fucking long.”

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I need you.”

His eyes darken with lust at your plea, and without another word, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden fullness makes you cry out, your head falling back against the wall. He’s big, stretching you in ways that have your toes curling. You can feel every inch of him, thick and pulsing, as he fills you completely. It’s overwhelming, the way he pushes your walls apart, making you see colours you didn’t know existed.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls, starting to move. His pace is relentless, each thrust hard and deep, driving you up the wall with every stroke. Your moans mix with his grunts, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small room. You’re thankful that the room is isolated in the middle of the basement or else you’re convinced everyone upstairs could hear you.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he pounds into you. You can feel the power and control in his movements, the way he takes what he wants, and it drives you wild. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and erratic. “You like being taken so hard you forget everything else?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper against the overwhelming stimulation. “Yes, Sunghoon, don’t stop.”

You bring one of his hands up to your throat, a silent plea for him to fulfil your fantasy. His eyes widen for a moment, and then a dark smile spreads across his face. “You want it?” he asks, his voice a dangerous whisper. “You want me to choke you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please.”

Sunghoon’s grip tightens around your throat, the pressure just enough to make your head spin, adding a delicious haze to your already overwhelming pleasure. Each of his thrusts feels like a shockwave of ecstasy, stretching you and filling you in ways that make your entire body tingle with need. His cock throbs inside you, the thick, hard length gliding in and out with a relentless rhythm.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, his voice a guttural mix of pleasure and dominance. His free hand slides up your body, brushing over your sensitive skin, and his fingers tease at your nipples through the soaked fabric of your t-shirt, making you grateful that you wore a mesh bra today rather than your usual beat-up t-shirt. The contact sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, heightening the sensations.

Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him to stay against the wall, leaving marks that make him hiss and drive his thrusts even harder. Every push, every pull, feels like it’s unravelling you completely. The pressure around your throat makes your breathing shallow, and the world outside this small room seems to blur into insignificance. All that exists is the raw, primal connection between you and Sunghoon.

Clamping your walls down on him, you mewl out as the tip of his cock reaches a depth no other man has been able to reach, kissing your cervix with intimacy and urgency as you suck him in with each clench of your core.

Hissing, Sunghoon’s head burrows into your neck, his palm now pressed against your jugular in a beautifully punishing manner. “Fuck, Y/N, your cunt is so greedy for it.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and your moans become more desperate, more pleading. You arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him, needing him deeper, harder. “Sunghoon, I’m so close,” you whimper, your voice breaking with the intensity.

He responds with a fierce, primal growl, increasing the pace of his thrusts. Each movement is forceful, almost punishing, but it’s exactly what you need. “Cum,” he commands, his voice rough and demanding. “I want to feel you cream all over me.”

With that final command, the pressure around your throat and the relentless pounding of his cock push you over the edge. Your body trembles violently, and you cry out his name as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. Your orgasm is all-encompassing, a dizzying mix of pleasure and release that leaves you gasping for breath, clinging to him.

Sunghoon’s own release follows almost immediately, his body tensing as he buries himself deep inside you, groaning your name with a raw intensity. His cock pulses with each spurt, filling you completely. The heat of his climax mixes with the remnants of your orgasm, creating a deliciously overwhelming sensation.

He holds you tightly, his breath ragged against your neck, as both of you ride out the aftershocks of your climaxes. Slowly, he eases his grip on your throat and pulls back slightly, his eyes still dark with desire but now softened with a trace of concern.

Sunghoon’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his breath still coming in short, ragged bursts. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, his touch tender against your flushed skin. “You okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur, filled with concern and dissipating lust.

You nod, a satisfied smile on your lips despite the trembling of your voice. “More than okay,” you breathe out, your body still trembling from the intensity of the climax.

Sunghoon’s eyes hold a mix of tenderness and desire. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The contrast between the gentleness of the kiss and the fierceness of what had just transpired sends a shiver through you. “Good,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and soothing. “Because we’re far from done.”

He slowly lowers you to the ground, his hands steady and careful. As he kneels before you, a look of wonder crosses your face, mixed with a lingering haze of desire. His fingers, still slick with your combined release, gently part your folds, teasing and exploring.

You gasp as his fingers find their way to your sensitive entrance, carefully stuffing his dripping cum back into you. The sensation is both intense and oddly comforting, a reminder of the connection you’ve shared. Your breath hitches as you feel the warmth and slickness inside you.

“Sunghoon-” you start, but his gaze, both commanding and affectionate, cuts you off.

“Keep that there until our shift is over,” he instructs, his voice firm but laced with an underlying promise of more. “I don’t want a drop of it out of you.”

His words send a fresh thrill through you, a combination of pleasure and anticipation. “When we clock out, you’re coming back to mine, end of story,” he continues, his tone brooking no argument.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and eagerness. “Okay,” you manage to say, your voice steadying despite the rush of emotions.

“Great,” he smiles innocently, as if he didn’t just fuck you so good you thought you saw Jesus marking you off the gates VIP list. “Now help me with this keg.”

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazz

[amourane]

smitten

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: fluff

w/c: 0.7k

summary: jeonghan is completely smitten for you and he refuses to admit it.

warnings: noneee

a/n: aaa i hope you guys like this <3 i wasn't gonna post two fics in a row but i whipped this one up in about half an hour so i hope you guys enjoy it! not sure if i should make it a mini series, lmk!

Jeonghan found it hard to breathe with you around. He found it hard to focus, to concentrate. He had always been one to keep his cool, to stay calm and collected but ever since he met you all logical thinking had been thrown out of the window. He wasn’t a type of guy that would get nervous and he certainly wasn’t the type of guy that would get distracted. Jeonghan prided himself in being the stoic and very attractive star student at Seoul National University. 

So why did he find himself completely befuddled in front of you?

You who were so beautiful, so pretty, so gorgeous yet so annoying. He had never met another girl who would claw at his bones more than you. Your tinkling laugh and bright shiny eyes. It all made him go positively crazy and he couldn’t do anything to help that. You had this magnetic pull that would drag Jeonghan along despite his protests. 

His friends had all teased him for it. They had seen the way his cheeks would flush whenever you stared at him or the way he would look at you with the most lovesick eyes. Nevertheless, he continued to deny his affections. 

It didn’t matter anyway. You were too dense to notice how everyone seemed to snicker whenever you went up to Jeonghan or the way everyone would peer over their textbooks whenever you asked to partner up with the infamous student. You, who’s smile was so bright, failed to see how everyone could tell how smitten Yoon Jeonghan was for you even if he denied it. 

“Hannie!” Your voice echoed through the hallway and Jeonghan winced at the loud sound. His expression remained neutral as you came bounding up towards him with the most adorable grin on your face. “Guess who just got full marks on her test? Me!”

The test paper you shoved in his face made Jeonghan go cross eyes as he struggled to decipher your scrawled answers and the red pen the professor had marked with. The biggest thing that caught his eyes was the 100 in the top right hand corner. 

“That’s good Y/n.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You pouted as you removed the test paper from his face. “I worked so hard for that Hannie, I pulled all nighters and everything! I didn’t even ask you for any help, isn’t that impressive?”

“Yeah.” Jeonghan felt the cage of butterflies fly open in his stomach and he gulped. “That’s amazing Y/n but you really shouldn’t stay up revising, it actually decreases the chance of taking information in. You can enter sleep deprivation and it has a really high chance of simply going blank in exams and that’s not good at all you know.”

Your smile remained on your face as Jeonghan continued to rattle off the side effects of lack of sleep. You stepped closer towards him, only inches away. Jeonghan’s breath hitched as he stared at your pretty face. His eyes flickered to your lips and then your eyes. The eyes he could stare into forever and not get bored with. 

“Then you help me revise. I could use help from that brain of yours. I actually did go blank in my exam but it wasn’t because of sleep deprivation.”

Jeonghan knew better than to ask what but he couldn’t help the curiosity that was gnawing at his mind like a beast begging to be set free. He stared at you, your bright expression rendering him speechless as he tried to come up with words to say.

“What was it then?” He croaked out, voice trembling at the close proximity. “Why did you get distracted?”

You giggled leaning in closer so that your lips were brushing his ear. “You.”

Jeonghan froze, his whole body stood still like ice and you continued to giggle and he saw the way your smile seemed to grow bigger. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you step back, the test paper still clutched in your hands. He felt his cheeks burst into flames as his jaw hung open in shock at your words. 

“See you later Hannie! I’ll pop over so we can exchange notes.” 

You waved him goodbye before skipping away as if you hadn’t just caused the poor guy to melt in his shoes. Jeonghan gripped his textbooks tightly and he tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. The beating of his heart could be heard in his ears and he tried desperately to calm himself down.

You were the only one capable of making Yoon Jeonghan grow completely flustered and he hated it.

[starlightsalvatore]

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni

You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.

You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 

“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 

“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.

“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.

“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.

“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.

But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.

He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.

“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 

“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.

“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 

“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.

You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.

“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 

Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 

Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 

And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 

You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 

His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.

His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 

You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.

“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 

Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 

When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.

Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 

You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.

His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 

“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.

“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.

“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.

“A trip?” 

You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 

“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 

[sureallavnder]

stupid parties - Theodore Nott

p : gentle!theodore nott x anxious!fem!reader

s : slytherin always throw the noisiest, stupidest parties and even though you were sorted into said house you cant normally handle them as things get intense

w : fluff, shaking, google translated italian, theo being a softie, not proofread

a/n : just a softie theo moment don’t ask me how i got this out but not my 200 follower fic

prompt : person b holding person a’s hand while shaking

You were dreading tonight.

As per usual for the slytherin quidditch team they decided to throw a massive party to celebrate their 5th win of the season.

Something you always struggled with was crowds and noise and lucky for you, you got sorted into the house who throws the loudest, craziest, most unhelpful (in your words) parties.

Theo knew this and always made sure to keep you calm and safe even when he sometimes wished he was partying as it was one of his favourite hobbies.

You and Theo had been dating since he asked you to the Yule Ball in 4th year. But as most, you had crushes on each other since 3rd, and maybe just maybe there was some kind of connection from when you first met. Although you didn’t get close until Christmas break of your 2nd year when you both stayed behind at Hogwarts.

Your family had decided it was best for you to stay in school and focus on furthering your education a little bit, but you always wondered if it was because they liked not having you around.

As for Theo, he never really liked going home. He’d lost his mum when he was young and his dad wasn’t the best of people, a death eater. So it was typical of him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.

Theodore Nott. You’re boyfriend of 2 years. He would always spend the party cuddling you and cradling you on his bed, he had absolutely no alternate intentions. He loved looking after you. This time was no different.

It was about 10 minutes before people would normally start to pile into the slytherin common room and just on time Theo came into your dorm room, scooped you up, and carried you to his bed, setting you down. He went and picked out one of his baggiest hoodies and helped you put it on. Guiding your arms through and pulling it over your head making sure you didn’t get stuck. He swooped you into a massive cuddle singing softly into your ear. Arms wrapped tightly around you.

About 20 minutes had passed and you could tell this time felt different. The noise seemed so much more intense and it scared you. That’s when the shaking started. It wasn’t intense, but just a little. It was noticeable to you and Theo.

Theo immediately sat up and turned you so you were facing each other. He held your soft face in his hands. He spoke in italian knowing it calmed you down the quickest.

“tesoro, va bene, starai bene, sono qui” he muttered desperately trying to help

baby girl, it’s okay, you’ll be okay, i’m here

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead knowing it’s your favourite. You smile lightly trying to appreciate the help he was giving.

Theo then held your shaking hands and traced his thumb over them to soothe you. You turn around so your back is against his chest, not letting your hands separate.

He places a kiss on the top of your head. Thankfully this calms you down enough to block out the noise of the party on the other side of the door.

Before you knew it, it was the next morning, you had drifted off to sleep in Theodore’s arms. He had layed you down in bed and wrapped himself around you. He didn’t let you go all night.

masterlist

[witchywcmans]

AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI

synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.2k

song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood

author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol

Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.

Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car. 

Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.

So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.

It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked. 

“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”

You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”

“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand. 

Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.

Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.

You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.

“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”

The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.

You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.

“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”

That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.

This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.

“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”

Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.

You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –

“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?

He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.

He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”

You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.

“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”

“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”

Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”

“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”

This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.

“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”

His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we went to school together!”

“Oh, you know that means noth –”

“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”

Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.

He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”

You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”

“And the coffee?” He added.

You shrugged. “Could use some work.”

Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”

You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”

“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”

His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”

You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller. 

He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –

“So how’s that seat?”

You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”

“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”

His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.

“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.

You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”

“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”

You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”

But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.

“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”

Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”

Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.

His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.

You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”

Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him. 

His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –

There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.

“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”

You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”

In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.

His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.

He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose. 

You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.

“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”

You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.

Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.

“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”

You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.

“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”

Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.

You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.

You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”

You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”

He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”

“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this. 

With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”

“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”

You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”

Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”

His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.

When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.

Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”

You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”

His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.

“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”

[eddiesxangel]

Angel or Devil? | E.M x Reader

Anonymous asked: Could i request a fic where reader comes home pissed off and angry fucks eddie and hes hooked on it so he keeps trying to annoy her or asks her how work was ect to get her riled up so she they can fuck each others brains out, her dirty talk gets filthy when shes mad and eddie realizes he likes it mean

wc: 2.7k

cw: f!reader/mean!reader, Sub/switch Eddie, dirty talk, sex toys, slight choking, female masturbation, pussy eating, p in v, cream pie. Slightly proofread… so if you see a spelling error no you didn’t… (ง •̀_•́)ง

Eddie’s head snapped up when the sound of the front door slamming shook him out of focus. You must have had a bad day because you never slam things.

Timidly, Eddie put his guitar down and walked out of the bedroom into your living room to see you slam your purse on the floor; you don’t bother to unzip your boots; you rip them off your feet and whip off your drenched coat. That’s also when he sees the crazed look in your eyes behind your soaked hair sticking to your face. Today was not your day.

“Sunshine-“

“Don’t,” you point a finger up at him; you don’t want to hear a word from your boyfriend right now.

“But-“

“No. Shut up.” You make your way to the bedroom to wash your rain-soaked clothes.

Eddie followed you apprehensively. His gut told him to give you space, but his heart needed to ensure his sunshine was okay.

“Eddie.” You huffed. He had followed you.

He wasn’t listening to you. That’s all you wanted was something to listen to you. Nobody had taken the time to hear you out at work, and to make matters worse, the barista messed up your order, causing you to be late for your team meeting. Then, to top it off, you missed your bus. Thinking that a walk might help clear your head, you set off, only to be interrupted by the ominous crack of thunder in the sky. Instead of tears, you felt a surge of rage building inside you. All you desired was some sense of control in a day that seemed spiralling out of your grasp.

“Baby,” Eddie cooed again, stocking the back of your soaked hair.

You huffed in annoyance again. He wasn’t listening, so you decided to push him down in the bed.

“Woah, baby, I’m sorry-“

You cut him off as you climbed on top of him and shut him up with a kiss. Maybe now you could be in control.

With eyes wide, Eddie didn’t know what to do, but as you gripped at his clothes, signalling to get naked, he soon realized.

Eddie didn’t understand where this came from, but who was he to question? His lady needs to take out her frustration on him and who was he to deny her? He was just but a humble servant.

“You’re taking too long,” you groan, sitting up and taking off your soaked clothes.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you. Don’t worry, Teddy will make it better.”

“God, do you always talk this much? Shut up and eat my pussy”

Eddie was stunned. His eyes were wide, yet your words went straight to his cock. You never spoke to him this way before, but he liked it. He liked you a little mean.

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, and you give him the biggest eye roll Eddie couldn’t miss; he moaned as he connected his lips with your pussy.

With a hand gripped tightly in his hair, he was determined to make you cum asap. He had to service his girl; you demanded it. It was the sexiest thing Eddie had ever been witness to… not that you weren’t sexy every other time, but something had been unlocked in Eddie’s brain, and he didn’t want to give it up.

A feral groan leaves your throat, and Eddie can’t help but moan once again into your pussy, knowing it drives you crazy.

Your hips are grinding into his face. Usually, he would have you pinned down, but having you use him solely for your pleasure was getting Eddie off just as much.

Within minutes, you were falling apart on Eddie’s tongue and fingers. Your body shook beneath him, and you finally felt some relief.

“There you go, baby. That's it, let it go.”

With a deep sigh, you get up and walk to the bathroom without a word.

Eddie was stunned. You used him …and he liked it.

When you got out of the shower, it was like you were a different person, like the rage demon was fucked right out of you, and you had forgotten how angry you were and also how you had just left Eddie to take care of himself.

You came out, giving Eddie a big hug and a kiss like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. You told him about your day while he cooked you dinner and spent the evening snuggling on the couch.

It’s been two weeks since you stormed home that evening, and Eddie was doing everything in his power to get you to retake control, but you were not biting.

He got excited when you would make a move first, but then you fell into old habits, and he would be the one to take charge. So Eddie was doing everything in his power to piss you off.

He didn’t want to, but he needed to trigger that inner dominatrix that was hidden deep inside.

Lately, you couldn't figure out what had come over Eddie, but his behavior was really starting to bother you. He seemed to be constantly leaving the cupboard doors wide open, choosing to immerse himself in video games instead of addressing household chores. Despite promising to tidy up, he never followed through. His socks and underwear were strewn across our shared bedroom floor, and on top of everything, he seemed to be avoiding any meaningful conversation during dinner.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” You glare at him, as he doesn’t even signal that he heard you.

You've had enough of this immature behavior. You don’t understand why you're being ignored, but you've reached your limit.

“Eddie!” You slam your fork down on the table, and finally, he looks at you.

You quickly stand up, and the chair screeches against the parquet flooring. Eddie’s big brown eyes grow wider and darker as you approach his side of the table.

This was it, he thought; he’d cracked the code.

“What is your problem?” Your hands were on your hips. He thought you looked so cute when you tried being all authoritative.

“Dont know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?”

“You have something to say, baby? Come on, tell me.” His tone was condescending and taunting.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“So. Am. I.” He stands, getting closer with each word. He towers over you, but you don’t care; you’re too pissed off to be intimidated.

“What is your problem!” You scream.

“I don’t have a problem, sweet thing.” He shrugs, his voice cool as a cucumber.

This only pissed you off further. He was so good at pushing your buttons, and you were falling for it unknowingly.

Your face was scrunched up and he thought it was the cutest thing he couldn’t help but hide a smirk and you caught it.

“You want to try that again?” you ask. Your faces were centimetres apart, and he could smell the fire brooding within you.

Hook, line, and sinker.

God, you were infuriated with him, but you never wanted him more badly than right now. You act on instinct and flung yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around him and kissing him harshly, so much so your lips would be bruised by the time you’re done with him.

“There she is”

“Shut up.” Your hands are all over one another, and Eddie is reeling from your actions. Finally, his little minx had come out to play.

You forced your way over to the living room, not ever breaking the kiss until you pushed Eddie off of you and down onto sofa.

“Tell what you want; I’m yours to use.” he smiles, and you can see the mischief in his eyes.

“Is that what this was all about?” you scan his body, his hard cock prominent in his sweatpants. “You like it when I’m mean?” You’re annoyed still but also turned on. Your Eddie likes it when you’re in control.

A wave of excitement washes through you at the realization that all of this was actually to get your attention.

“You like when I dom you, Teddy? Is that it?” Your voice sickly sweet as you run your hands up his thighs until you reach the crease of his hips but don’t go any further, only teasing him more.

“Yes,” he nodded his head rapidly.

A rush of arousal floods your panties.

“Good boy.”

Eddie throws his head back and reaches to palm his cock, but you swat his hand away.

“No,” you stay stern. “This is my cock”

Eddie’s head snapped back up, and you could see in his eyes that he liked your words.

“Who’s cock does this belong to?” You ask as your hand slinks down into his pants, gripping at the base.

“Me.” He smirks. He wants you to be meaner.

“Okay,” you say, standing up and walking away.

“Okay?” Eddie is dumbfounded as you leave him alone on the couch. It takes a few seconds before he gets up to follow you into the bedroom, where he sees you’re pulling out your dildo.

“What are you doing?” He asks, disappointed that you left him.

“Since you don’t think I own your cock, I’m going to use the one I bought to get me off instead.” You shrug before stripping down fully and spreading your legs open to play with yourself in front of Eddie.

“Fuuuuuuuuck, baby.” Eddie came crawling, but you stopped him with an outreached foot to his forehead.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Oh-I uh-“

“oh, you uh,” mocked back, and Eddie didn’t think he could get any harder.

“You are going to sit back over there and watch only, like a good little boy. If you touch yourself, I stop.”

“Baby! What? No, that’s so mean,” He pouts.

“You wanted to mean, baby; you’re getting mean.”

Eddie bit his fist and sat back obediently; never in his wildest dreams did he think you would be so confident in this newfound role.

You spread open your legs and work your fingers through your slick folds, not breaking eye contact. You can’t help but smirk when you bring the dildo to your lips, putting on a show by sucking and drowning the head with your saliva, showing exactly what you would have done to Eddie if he had complied earlier.

You hear a throaty moan from Eddie as you watch his face scrunch and his fists tighten into balls as if he were in physical pain from watching you. The way you pop the toy off your lips and slowly drag it down to your weeping hole had Eddie’s cock twitched.

You finally break eye contact when you watch yourself insert the dilo into your wet pussy before you let your head fall back into the pillow.

“Oh yes!” your hips gyrate into your thursts as you put in a show for Eddie.

You exaggerate, for Eddie’s sake. Of course, it would never feel as good as him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You evil woman”

You snap your eyes back to Eddie and smirk.

“Fuck it feels so good!” “God it’s just so big” “yes yes yes!”

Moan after moan of pleasure leaves your lips as your free hand explores your breast, squeezing it and playing with your nipple before moving down to your clit.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to run through your body; having Eddie watch you, at your mercy, was enough to fuel the orgasm, let alone the thick, veiny pink dildo that was spreading you wide open, hitting you just right with each pump.

Your pussy clamps down onto the dildo that’s deep inside of you, cuming all over it as you shake with pleasure. You don’t even hear Eddie moan as he bites his fist, trying so hard to behave and listen to your orders.

Your cum floods out of you as you slowly pull it out with a pop.

“Come here and clean it up,” You demand, and Eddie dives head first to your pussy, but you quickly close your legs, and Eddie pouts those beautiful full pink lips at you.

“This first,” You smirk, handing him the dildo you just used that’s coated in your cum.

Eddie’s eyes go wide in shock, but he takes the toy and places it in his mouth. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he licks and deep-throats it.

The thrill of watching Eddie place the used dildo in his mouth as he sucks it off only makes your pussy flood once again. Your hands play with your nipples as you slowly open your legs for him.

The second Eddie sees your knees parting, he tosses the dildo to the floor, and before you can command anything, his lips attach to your pussy in an instant.

“That’s right, you’re just a little cum slut aren’t you?” you can’t believe the words are leaving your lips, and neither can Eddie, but he ruts his hips against the mattress as the filthy words fill the room.

“I see you, baby. Can’t even wait five minutes without needing to pay attention to your cock” You try not to stutter as Eddie works his tongue inside your tight hole, cleaning up the remnants of cum. You watch as Eddie pops his ass up and down as he tries to get himself off, but you can’t have that, not yet.

“Stop,” You command, and Eddie doesn’t know what action you’re referring to, so he stops everything completely.

He looks up at you with those big doe eyes, mouth agape and shiny with your cum, and you almost crack a smile, but you keep your composure.

You shuffle to your knees and instruct Eddie to lie down in place of where you just were and lean over him.

“Now, baby, I’m going to ask you again. Who’s cock is this?” You slowly drag a single digit, hardly touching the soft skin of his shaft, from the base to tip and back down again. His cock was more than ready, he was so thick and long. The tip was red, and was leaking out so much precum. If you didn’t know any better, you maybe would have thought he had come already.

“Yours” He doesn’t hesitate; he needs to cum; he needs to feel your pussy around him.

“Good boy,” you say, taking your finger away so you can hook a leg over his hip and straddle him.

“I think I’ve learned my lesson.” Eddie swallows.

“Oh, is that right?” your hand slowly makes its way up Eddie’s thick throat and lands at the base of his jaw. You squeeze it ever so gently at first but slowly tighten your grip as you sink down onto his cock.

Your small hand doesn’t do anything to hurt Eddie, but the feeling of it there had Eddie pushing his hips up into you roughly.

You let out a maon of pleaser as he hits your G-spot and doesn’t stop. Thrust after thrust, Eddie has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and he will not stop until he has his way with you.

“Think you’re in control now, baby? Got you so cock drunk you can’t even speak.”

No longer did you care about being in control. Eddie was making you see stars.

“Don’t think your little toy had you feeling this good, huh?” he gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips so hard you know there will be a bunch of tiny bruises in the morning.

“Ohhhhh, Teddy!,” You scream as your second orgasm rips through you without warming. Eddie’s hips jackhammer up into you as you ride out your orgasm, and Eddie chases his. He flips you over and pushes your legs up into your chest so he can watch himself disappear into your tight little cunt.

“Fucking made f’me.” his hips snap once, twice, three times more until he spills himself inside of you.

You feel Eddie’s weight collapse on you, his heavy body limp.

“Holy shit” You breathe in the revelation of what just happened. “Was that our best sex ever, or am I dreaming?” You whisper.

“I think you broke me, baby,” Eddie moans as he doesn’t want to leave your warm wet pussy.

“That confirms it, best sex ever.” You raise his hand so you can give him a high five before his limp arm falls back down on the bed.

You can’t help but giggle, and Eddie shoots out of you, complaining it’s too sensitive to squeeze his cock anymore.

“Teddy?”

“mhm?”

“Next time you want me to take charge, just ask. I’m not keeping a messy home because you wanna get freaky.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes before he rolls your body into his so you can fall asleep in his arms.

Tagging some moots who might be interested 🫣: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @usergeta @loserboysandlithium

[steddieas-shegoes]

we share that really

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt ‘band politics’

rated t | 905 words | no cw | tags: famous corroded coffin, reunion tour, future fic, steddie dads, everyone has a family and is happy

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Their label said it was too soon to do a reunion tour. They were only in their early 40s and had only been officially “broken up” for ten years.

But they were all in the right place: married, children who were old enough to come on tour but still young enough to be excited about it, and writing music that meant more to them than anything they’d done before.

Rumors had swirled for years after they announced their break up. None of them saw it as a breakup, more an early retirement that let them focus on building their lives. Fans and media alike hadn’t stopped coming up with other reasons for it: Gareth had been in love with Eddie for years and finally said something which caused friction, Jeff’s wife had threatened to divorce him if he didn’t take time off, Frankie had a drinking problem that was spreading like a viral disease.

None of it was even close to true.

The one and only reason for all of them was that they wanted to focus on their families for a while.

They stayed in touch, almost more than when they were on tour together. Jeff and Gareth lived in the same neighborhood, and Frankie bought an RV so he could come visit as often as he wanted. Eddie had traveled for a very extended honeymoon with Steve for nearly a year before finally settling an hour away, halfway between his favorite people and Steve’s favorite person.

They still played together at least once a month, a full set and any new stuff someone brought with them.

So when they all agreed it was time to come back and record a new album and do a tour, it wasn’t really a reunion so much as an excuse to be even closer for a while.

The label was thrilled, willing to give everyone their own tour bus so their families could come with them for the US part of the tour.

One thing none of them were prepared for was the media following the announcement.

“Is it true that you only just reconciled after years of legal battles about rights to songs?” A journalist from Rolling Stone asked.

Gareth snorted. “Not even a little, dude. We’ve been best friends this entire time.”

“So there was never any issue with Eddie being the most famous?”

Everyone looked over at Eddie, who was making faces at his youngest daughter at the side of the stage. Jeff leaned into his mic and gestured over to him.

“None of us have ever had a problem with him being the face of the band. We’re here to make music and perform, not fight over who gets to be in the center of pictures,” he said. “Plus, none of us would wanna deal with what he deals with on a daily basis. He’s not that interesting, I promise.”

Everyone laughed as Eddie turned back to the crowd with a smile. “I’m super boring. Just ask my kids.”

"So you don't mind that he gets creative control?" Another reporter asked.

They all shared looks with each other before Eddie leaned forward into his microphone to answer.

"I don't have creative control. We all share it. We all share everything. That's the point of a band like ours. Sometimes I know what sounds best for a guitar solo, sometimes Jeff does. Sometimes Gareth writes a chorus that people will sing along to, sometimes Frankie does. We've never had any of that lead person bullshit no matter what the media wants to show," Eddie drummed once on the table. "Are there any questions about the upcoming album and tour or is everyone here gonna keep asking about shit that isn't true?"

"Language!" Steve yelled from the side of the room.

Everyone laughed and Eddie waved him off.

They got more questions about the album and the tour and it finally seemed like everyone was done asking about band politics until the very end.

"So will Eddie still be the lead guy for the reunion?" Someone from the back asked.

Eddie banged his head against the table.

"Alright, thanks everyone! We'll see you on tour!" Gareth yelled as he pulled Eddie's arm so they could all exit the stage.

"They want us to hate each other so bad," Frankie shook his head.

"Look at this face," Gareth said as he grabbed Eddie's jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips pouted out. "Who could hate this face?"

"Shit!" A small voice exclaimed from behind them.

Eddie turned to see his youngest daughter smiling up at him and Steve standing next to her with his hands on his hips.

"You're right, sweetie. Daddy's in deep shit," Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek. "And he is so sorry for breaking the no bad words rule today. He really is."

"Our fearless leader appears to be absolutely fucked," Jeff said as he started to walk towards his wife and kids.

Gareth trailed behind him in search of his own family.

Frankie punched Eddie's shoulder. "Good luck, big guy."

"Everyone hates me, call the media and tell them they were right," Eddie pouts.

Steve rolls his eyes and picks up their daughter, walking away.

Eddie turns to his twins. "Well, you guys don't care if I say shit."

"You said worse while getting ready this morning."

"And I'll say worse again! Let's get out of here."

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Rather Short and Sharp Descent (Beetlejuice One-Shot)

Betelgeuse x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: When you'd struck a deal with the demonic ghost, you'd not expected to fall for him. Perhaps less so, you hadn't expected to be tumbling quite down this path...

Fic Type: Smut (dumbification, daddy kink, slight degradation tw)

Everything Tag List: @winchxters  @calliopesdiary

Betelgeuse Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Had it been two hours or three? More? You can't remember- you can't even remember what time of the day it is. You can remember the magically altered sets of fingers and tongues that have thoroughly fucked you from the inside out, though.

It's not like he'd let you forget that, anyway.

“Aww, lookit that, dollface. Nothin’ in there, huh? Good. That’s the way ol’ Beej likes it. Doin’ a good job, babe.”

You tried to respond, but it just came out as a garbled moan.

"Yeah, that's it. Just a little fuckinnn mess for me, aintcha?"

Your brows pinched, mouth dropping open as his fingers felt like they pulsed inside you. They probably did, knowing him. Beej laughed above you, eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. Oh, he was going to make you work for it.

"B-Beej," you drooled, and he pouted at you mockingly in response.

"Look atcha, tryin' to make sentences and everything. It'd be cute if it weren't so pathetic, huh?" Another second and his free hand swatted at your ass, the sting biting- not that you didn't love the pain. "Beej, Beej, Beej, huh? Yeah, you fuckin' love me an' my thick fuckin' cock, babe."

And you did. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you with it. That ache begging for him inside you was starting to make you antsy. Sure you had his physically altered fingers buried inside you, but it wasn’t the same. God, it would never be the same as having him leer over you, cock twitching from the inside. 

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure how you’d managed to get yourself into this situation in the first place. You’d found a flyer that had quite literally blown into your face on the street one day and said the name three times with such disbelief that you had all but died of a heart attack when the being belonging to said name appeared so suddenly and with a ridiculous amount of theatrics.

Then it was on to the business of making deals, of course. Betelgeuse had let you know in his round-a-bout way that he’d noticed you had a pesky little problem that needed fixing and he was more than happy to do the job. There was, of course, just the matter of payment, though. Sure, he could scare the absolute fuck out of your roommate until they fucked off into the sunset but not without payment. Nothing much, not your soul or anything. No, what Betelgeuse wanted from you was, of all things… a kiss. 

Naturally, you’d been suspicious that planting one (with tongue, as he had insisted) onto a demonic ghost with a penchant for absolute chaos wouldn’t come with any other side effects, such as selling your soul over or something. But a kiss? Just one kiss? Surely that wouldn’t be too bad. 

As it turns out, it didn’t have any side effects that you were expecting. Instead, it led you down a path with a rather short and sharp descent into the circles of Hell. Sin, specifically. Either way, it was a short path with many tongues, fingers and cocks to ease your way down. 

You didn’t even realise how fast you fell for him. Nor he for you, most likely. But soon enough he was around often enough that you couldn’t call it a fling any more. This was something different. You’d caught him sizing your ring finger the other night, actually. Eyeballing it, mostly, but you could tell what that eye meant. 

“‘Ey, babe- you in there? Or are y’too fucked dumb to respond anymore, huh?” 

You groaned, thoughts hazing in and out a little, though they were brought sharply into focus as he withdrew his fingers and stuck his rather long tongue out to lick them clean.

Seeing your hungry gaze, he offered them to you next—an offering you took up without an ounce of hesitation. Fuck, you tasted good. 

Those very same fingers slid from your mouth and down around your throat, brushing against the thrum of your pulse beneath your soft, thin skin. It would take almost nothing for him to kill you. But he wouldn’t. He was too fond of you- his favourite Flesh Bag as he called you. 

His eyes glinted above you, drinking in the sight of your spit-slick lips, red and swollen. Your throat pressed against his fingers, warmer than you’d expect for a dead man. Slowly, softly, he pushed you down onto your back, legs bent and spread wide for him to slot his hips between. 

Finally, finally, you were going to get what you needed. 

“Uh-uh, my precious little dummy, not yet. You think you deserve this cock? D’you really? Think hard on it now, hard as I know that is for your empty little brain.” 

“Y-yes,” you replied almost instantly, trying to roll your hips against him- trying to goad him into fucking you dumb just the way you like. Well. Dumber. 

“‘Y-yes’ what, babe?” 

Risking a glance at his expression, your mouth practically watered at the carnal look there. Dark, hungry. He wanted this just as much as you did. Needed it, even, perhaps. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it, babe. Fuckin daddy-o, that’s me.” 

You rolled your eyes, starting to come out of the haze a little now despite the slap of his cock against your clit. He was doing it to tease you, the fucker. 

“Beej, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I might go genuinely insane.” 

“Ladies and gents,” Betelgeuse snorted, talking to an invisible audience. “Can’t keep ‘em off me, eh? Desperate little thing. Cute though.” 

But despite the pleasure he usually got from torturing you from hours on end (you think as if he hadn’t just spent the last two to three hours fingerfucking you to oblivion), he gave in, softly rolling his hips against you- sinking inside so slowly you almost felt like yelling at him to just hurry up. 

“Ohh, fuck me,” you moaned, head dropping back against the pillows as he finally sunk completely inside you. The thing about Beej was that he was always able to alter any of his shapes to be exactly what you needed when you needed it. And today, he knew you wanted someone on the larger side. Not that you wouldn’t be happy with average, either, but sometimes there was just a need for something a little more specific. Beej knew that, too. 

“Alright, alright,” he huffed amusedly, punctuating the sentence with one of his very unique laughs. “Shut up for me a sec, babe,” he said, placing a hand over your mouth as he pulled back and slammed back against you. “Yeah, that’s it.” 

He set a punishing pace, eyes rolling quite literally into the back of his head with pleasure. While the object of torture had been you over the last few hours, there was some element of torture for him, too, not being able to sink balls deep into your tight little cunt and fuck you until he was sated. But not anymore. 

Slowly as he fucked you, his hand slipped from your mouth, allowing your pretty moans to escape into the heated air. Betelgeuse moaned, running his hand down your throat and down your side to grip at your hip. His fingers squeezed harshly into the soft muscle there, and you tilted your hips as best as you could to rock back against him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Betelgeuse groaned, leaning down to shower sharp bites down your neck and shoulders. He always had been a biter. There was something about the contrast of the blood coming to the surface under the skin, the way those indents slowly softened into pretty bruises spreading across your skin like a grim meadow that drove him insane. “Not gonna last long, babe.” 

That was okay with you, you weren’t going to last long either. You hadn’t realised how fast you were approaching your orgasm- and the deadline skyrocketed closer as his hand disappeared between your legs where you were most sensitive. 

“God, fuck, Beej- I, fuck, like that, please,” you cried out, reaching out to encircle your arms around his shoulders. You pulled him down and over you. From an outside perspective, you were absolutely sure that he would look like a violent predator about to rip apart his prey. 

His hips fucked into you without mercy, fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area. Your mouth was open in a practically permanent ‘o’- something that Betelgeuse took full advantage of as his lips landed on yours. His tongue flicked at your lower lip and it was that in conjunction with the savage thrust of his hips and non-stop-just-right fingers that catapulted you right over that edge. 

With a cry you weren’t sure actually made any sound or not, you felt your pleasure bubble over like a boiling pot on a stove, spilling over the edges and roiling up your spine. You could feel your orgasm all the way in your toes and even in your scalp, you realised distantly. 

Oh, wait, no, that was Betelgeuse’s fingers knotted in your hair, pulling as he chased his own orgasm now, hips choppy yet brutal. Every thrust forced your orgasm out longer, tingles of pleasure shooting through your nerves even as you started to come down from it. 

“Oh, oh, yeah, that’s it, babe. Fuckin little toy for daddy, aintcha- yeah,” he rambled with pleasure, eyes screwed tight as he finally, finally came- 

You sagged into the bed as he slowly stopped thrusting, cock still inside you. With a grunt, he laid down on top of you, forcing a grunt out of you as he did so. Your hand raised lazily to rub at his back. 

“Fuck, Beej,” you panted, eyes drifting closed as the glow started to overtake you. “You’re going to ruin me.” 

Betelgeuse snorted playfully, already starting to recover. He had a freaky ability to be able to go, and go, and go- and then barely need rest afterwards. Perks of being dead, you supposed. 

“What, like I ain’t already?” 

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. 

[bumbleboa]

I am back with more sketches for @calysto1395 's AU!

Fic snippet of her writing behind the cut:

EDIT: Fic is also now available HERE

“Fine, fine! I’m going. Stop shoving me.” Law throws his hands up and steps onto the train.

“I don’t want to see you for at least 24 hours.” Bepo retorts, his paws on his hips and blocking the doorway like a bouncer. If Law wasn’t so fucking exhausted from a ten hour surgery session he would have a clever comeback right about now. As it stands, he can only repeat Bepo’s words at him in a mocking tone. He flips Bepo off as the train doors close between them for good measure before he turns to find a seat as they slowly roll out of the station. 

There is as usual only one other person on the train. Hiriluk Hospital Station is usually the one where everyone gets off as the line continues out of town into the shitty outer district where Law has his dirt cheap apartment. It’s a good thing too because Law usually has no patience for anyone after work and before work he needs to save what little he has for his patients. 

His usual companion is a young man, maybe around Law’s age, who has tan skin and green hair who nods at him when Law falls into one of the empty seats. He’s always there before Law gets on and doesn’t get off anywhere before Law does. Law sees him as often as he does his coworkers so he would say they are almost friends. Save for the part where Law has no idea who he is besides a passenger and incredibly attractive.

“Trouble in paradise?” The guy asks, snorting with a smirk. He’s huddled into one of the seats that run sideways along the walls of the train, jean jacket and a hoodie today, legs propped up on his huge backpack with the long case sticking out of it. 

Law just rolls his eyes and lets his head fall against the headrest. It’s part of the routine at this point. Guy will make a comment or greet him and then it will be silent for the rest of the ride, just the way Law likes it. The stranger on the train might be Law’s favorite person, right after Bepo. Then again Bepo humiliated and bullied him onto the train today so maybe the stranger has taken top spot. 

“You got blood on your cheek.” The guy says and Law feels the annoyance at the routine being disturbed before he processes the words. His eyes blink open and he rubs at his cheek with his sleeve, feels the crusted flakes rub off and sees them clinging to the fabric of his hoodie. 

Law stares at it for a long time, feels his eyes losing focus for a minute before he blinks and shakes his head. Maybe Bepo had a point in sending him home. He sighs deeply, feeling the exhaustion deep in his bones. “Yep.” He says and rubs his cheek once more just to make sure he got it all. 

Stranger just gives him a nod when he shoots a questioning glance at him before he buries his hands in his jacket pockets and closes his eyes, settling deep into his seat. Law takes it as his cue to do the same. Just to rest his eyes for a little bit. He has about twenty minutes until he’s at his station and the conductor usually doesn’t check tickets this late at night. Law tells himself it's just for a few minutes. Just until his retinas stop burning. 

Then before he knows it there is a hand on his shoulder. He jerks, flailing wildly and smacking something before he gets his bearings. 

The stranger is standing next to his seat, looking down at him, hand falling to his side from where it had hung outstretched between them. “That’s your stop right?” He asks. 

Law blinks, confused. Head swirling to look outside the window to see the Tang Station sign out front. “Shit.” He manages to say, scrambling with his bag to hustle outside just in time before the doors close on him. He’s catching his breath on the platform, heart racing in his chest when he looks back at the train and sees the guy standing there still. He leans down a little to wave through the window as it sets back into motion and Law’s sleep deprived brain doesn’t manage to respond in any way before they are out of view.

[mypoisonedvine]

Ok 1 I love your Halloween theme, and 2 can I request a delightfully unhinged threesome between estranged twins, jackson and Dr. Crane 👀

oh my i wonder who could've given you such a ridiculously thirsty idea!!! definitely wasn't me ummm anyways this turned out to be another full length fic, so. yeah.

𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎 | jonathan crane x reader x jackson rippner

length: 3.6k

warnings: NONCON SMUT (dark as fuck, 18+ only, read the warnings), kidnapping, implied stalking, yandere!jonathan, threesome with oral m receiving and breeding kink, housewife kink, slight corruption kink, possibly inexperienced jonathan??

It was eerie, seeing his twin on the other side of the doorway; it wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror, but it was closer than anything else was.

The differences were obvious, and had only become stronger over time: the hair, the glasses, even the way they dressed. But the biggest difference between the brothers was their smiles… in fact, Jackson was wearing that tilted, toothy grin already. “Well, look at you,” he greeted smugly, “Doctor Crane.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” Jonathan admitted quietly.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call me again,” Jackson laughed as he stepped inside, despite never actually having been invited in. “Nice place, Doc— guess they pay you pretty good at the looney bin.”

“We, uh, try not to use that term,” Jonathan mumbled as he watched Jackson roam the apartment, getting a little nervous that he might break one of the more expensive decorations or artifacts.

“So, what’s this problem you needed my help with?” Jackson wondered as he spun on his heel to face his brother. “Must be a pretty sticky situation you’ve got yourself in if you have to ring up your big brother.”

“You’re only four—"

“Four minutes older, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “but somebody had to be first.”

“I need… advice,” Jonathan finally answered, “regarding a sort of… sensitive situation.”

“You can spare the foreplay, Jonny, this isn’t my first time,” Jackson smirked. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing… happened, really,” he sighed, “I just… there’s someone that needs to be… dealt with.”

“If you want a hit, I don’t actually do that,” Jackson explained, “but I can call somebody for you—“

“Not a hit, no,” Jonathan shook his head, “the opposite, really… I need her kept alive.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A ladyfriend you want protected?”

“Uh, sure,” Jonathan mumbled awkwardly, “but I’ll take care of that. It’s her, um, footprint, if you will. Her old identity, and all that— I need her to disappear, so to speak. W-well, she already disappeared… I just need people to stop looking for her.”

“You know, you’re always full of surprises, Jonny,” Jackson laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have this woman in your basement.”

“I don’t have a basement,” Jackson replied.

“That’s… not the part I was expecting you to deny…”

Soon enough, Jonathan escorted Jackson to his bedroom, where you were tied to one of the bedposts by your wrists, curled up in a shaking little ball, watching with wide eyes as the two men entered the room. Jackson realized you probably hadn't seen anyone other than Jonathan since getting here-- that, or you were just thinking oh fuck, there's two of them?!

“Why’d you dress her up like that?” Jackson snorted, admiring the vintage-style dress and heels, with a matching set of pearl earrings and necklace. “I didn’t know you were so… traditional.”

Jonathan cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting a bit pink. “Can we just focus on the present issue, please?”

"And what a lovely issue it is," Jackson cooed as he stepped closer to you, admiring you with a tilted head.

You watched him approach with wide eyes, finally speaking in a broken whisper. “Please,” you choked out, “help me— he’s keeping me here, I think he’s gonna kill me—“

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Jackson smiled, “he’s real sweet on you. I’d just be worried about whatever freaky shit he’s into.”

“Well, as you can see, she’s not adjusting very well,” Jonathan sighed. “I thought my drugs would help— and she’s pretty obedient when she’s been given a large dose, so I was sort of right— but I can’t keep her high all day, she’ll build a tolerance. And I know her case is going to get a little too much attention, if there isn’t some kind of closure for the police or the family sometime soon. I mean, a beautiful, promising young medical student? Gone without a trace? It’s cable news catnip.”

“You’re right about that,” Jackson agreed. “There’s a pretty face perfect for the papers.”

As Jackson reached to tilt your chin, petting the line of your jaw, Jonathan slapped his hand away. “Hey, hands to yourself,” Crane warned, “she’s mine.”

“Okay, Mr. Defensive,” Jackson widened his eyes, raising his hands like he was perfectly innocent. “How sloppy were you? Are they gonna find any evidence that brings them here?”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan sighed, “but you can’t be too sure. Even without evidence, she took one of my classes, so if they get desperate enough they can certainly trace her to me.”

Jackson sighed. “That’s tricky,” he nodded. “And it gives us two options.”

“Which are?”

“The happy ending, and the sad ending,” Jackson explained. “Happy ending: I get one of my little computer nerd friends to fake a plane ticket to somewhere exotic. Send a postcard to a friend. Just like that, she’s absconded from her old life, escaped the pressure of med school, and everyone thinks she’s off somewhere getting her groove back or whatever.”

“And the sad ending?”

“Bloody clothing planted by the woods, with a tip that somebody saw her hiking,” he shrugged. “Big bad wolf got to her. Simple as that. That one’s handy because no one’s gonna expect her to come back… and you can have her all to yourself, forever.”

Jonathan bit his lip, obviously excited by the idea. “I'm guessing that will require taking a sample from her?"

"Not too much," Jackson promised, "you're a doctor, you can do it safely."

"She's scared enough of me as it is," Jonathan sighed. "I thought she would... take to it a little faster."

"What, you thought she would like getting kidnapped?"

"I thought she would appreciate how well I can take care of her," Jonathan clarified.

"Oh, Jonny," Jackson laughed, "you haven't learned a thing about women since the last time I saw you, huh?"

Jonathan didn't even have the heart to deny it.

"When they ask if they look fat in something-- you just say no, don't even look, okay? It's like DARE: Just. Say. No." Jackson informed his brother sternly. "And when they say they're not hungry and don't want anything, just order some fries anyway or she's gonna end up with half your entrée. And most of all-- you can't forget this one-- they really dislike being kidnapped and held in captivity."

Jonathan crossed his arms. "I knew that," he announced defensively.

"Let me ask you this," Jackson began with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you used her yet?"

Jonathan shuddered a little, looking embarrassed as he looked at you and then to the floor. "J-just once..." he admitted. "That was... a lapse in restraint. I had wanted to wait until she was more comfortable, but..."

"But you just couldn't help yourself with a sweet little thing like this in your bed, huh?" Jackson finished. "I get it. And she looks cute when she's scared."

You shuddered under Jackson's hungry stare, and he winked at you. "So, you'll take care of it?" Jonathan reminded him. "Happy ending or sad ending, whatever you think is best."

"Well, I'm always a fan of a happy ending," Jackson smirked. "You know speaking of: I figure I can give you a good deal on this whole thing... you know, since you're family."

"Alright," Jonathan nodded.

“I’ll make sure her case is closed… if you let me take her for a spin.”

It seemed to take Jonathan a moment to realize what that meant, before he laughed incredulously. “No,” he asserted, “absolutely not.”

“Oh, don’t be so insecure,” Jackson pouted, “she’ll still be yours when I’m done with her. You can keep her for the rest of your life— I’m just asking for one night.”

"I can pay you very well for your time, Jackson," Jonathan promised.

"Eh, money's boring," Jackson shrugged.

"If I recall correctly, women tend to bore you pretty easily as well," Jonathan accused with a frown.

"Sheesh, you kidnap one woman and you start getting all judgmental that I haven't settled down," Jackson rolled his eyes. "I don't have a lot of time for anything serious, that's all. In fact, I barely have time for anything these days. That's why I figure I can help you break in Mrs. Crane over there."

"I don't need any help," Jonathan promised.

"Except for the part where, if I don't help you, you're probably gonna get caught with a missing woman tied to your bed," Jackson reminded him.

Jonathan sighed, clearly realizing the choice he had to make.

“C'mon, just a little favor for your favorite twin brother? You can stay and make sure I don’t do anything you wouldn’t… approve of,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “you prude.”

"She's innocent," Jonathan breathed, "that's what I liked about her-- it's why I had to bring her here. You'll... you'll ruin her. I can't let you do that."

“Seems like you don’t really have a choice,” Jackson noticed, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to Jonathan.

There was a pause, and finally Jackson turned to leave the room as he patted Jonathan on the back.

"Get a good lawyer, buddy," he offered as his final piece of advice.

But before he could take another step, Jonathan relented with a sigh: “Make it quick.”

“Hey,” Jackson shrugged with a grin as he shed his jacket and tossed it aside, “no promises.”

He all but leapt onto the bed, crawling up to you as you whined and shrunk away.

“Did y’hear that, babydoll? Jonny said it’s my turn to play with you,” he purred.

As you tried to shrink away, he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down, forcing you onto your back and keeping your tied wrists above your head as the rope when taut.

He growled as he laid on top of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “I can make it good for you,” he breathed, “if you behave. It’ll be so much better than whatever my idiot baby brother does to you— promise.”

Jackson's hands crawled up your skirt, and he bit his lip as you kicked your legs in protest.

"Be good, baby," he warned you sharply. "Good girls get a treat... you know what bad girls get?"

You didn't seem that invested in an answer, but he continued anyways as he lowered his voice and spoke by your ear.

"Bad girls get fucked up the ass," he whispered, giving a quick little kiss to the side of your face; suddenly, you relaxed a bit under him and stopped resisting so much. "That's a good girl," he praised, spreading your legs a bit and petting them until he reached higher and found you totally bare under the dress. "Oh my, Jonny didn't even give you panties to wear? Poor baby..."

Jonathan shuddered and crossed his arms, looking away with his head and yet unable to actually look anywhere else but the bed. He was trying to figure out how his brother had gotten you to behave so quickly... when Jonathan had given in to temptation and forced himself on you, it was a constant battle to keep you down as you kicked and screamed and begged him to stop. Whether it was the sight before him now, or the memory of that night, Jonathan felt his cock twitch in his trousers.

Jackson sat up a bit, opening his own pants and sighing as he wrapped his hand around himself. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he purred as he held your legs open wide with his other hand. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart."

He spit straight down onto you, smearing it around your opening with his tip, before pressing right up to your hole. He groaned loudly as he slid inside-- one long, slow stroke as he filled you. You whined and shut your eyes tight, but otherwise resisted the urge to struggle.

"Fuuuuck," Jackson purred, holding on tight to your hips as he simply buried himself inside you for a moment. "So tight, honey, Jesus."

Beginning to move, he laid himself down over you and kissed your neck again, moaning against your skin. You whimpered, back arching slightly under him, and he smiled when he felt you tense up as he thrusted into you just a little harder.

"Oh, baby, feel how deep I am?" he grunted. "Feel how good I'm stretching out that little hole? Fuck, keep squeezin' me like that and maybe I will make this quick..."

He grabbed your hips and yanked them up a bit, holding you right where he wanted you-- and sitting up again, so he could get just the perfect angle as he started fucking into you again. Normally he would build up a little more naturally before being so rough but, well, you weren't going anywhere... he could just use you and chase his own pleasure. That said, he still grinned proudly when you moaned suddenly, your head falling back and your back arching. That was when he decided that, even though he had no real obligation to make you come, he was going to anyways-- if for no other reason than to know that he could take total control of your body, and force you to an orgasm even unwillingly.

"Right there?" he taunted as you whined, giving you fast and hard thrusts right into the place that made you bite down on your lip. "Yeah, that's it-- you're getting so wet, honey, you feel that? Gonna soak my fucking cock, aren't you?"

He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, letting himself bask in the feeling for a moment. You made little sounds, obviously trying to hold yourself back, but the longer it went on the less you were able to fight it-- soon you were properly moaning, arching your back deeper, your walls clenching on him rhythmically as you came.

"Fuck, just like that," Jackson praised as he watched you give into it. "Just like that, baby, fucking cream all over me-- good girl."

Jonathan watched in astonishment as you quivered all over, nervously clearing his throat as he tried to conceal the throbbing erection in his pants-- and it seemed to remind Jackson that his brother was still standing nearby.

"What was that about your girl being innocent, Crane?" Jackson laughed. "'Cause she seems like a desperate fucking whore to me."

“H-how’d you make her do that?” Jonathan asked with a shaky whisper, licking his lips a bit as he watched you writhe against the mattress.

“Nothing to it, really,” Jackson smiled, “just gotta find that spot and beat the hell out of it. Here, I’ll show you.”

You whimpered as Jackson pulled out and slid his fingers inside you, curling them against the place that had become more sensitive than ever.

“Right here,” he explained, “you try it.”

He took his fingers out as Jonathan approached the bed— and you felt Jonathan’s fingers slide in a second later, a bit more hesitance to his movements. He let out a wavering sigh, and Jackson smiled.

“Feel the swollen part? Rub her there— hard.”

He curled his fingers slightly and you bit your lip.

“Harder,” Jackson instructed.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…”

“Well, she needs it rough,” Jackson laughed, “so man up and make her come!”

You yelped when Jonathan harshly pressed into the spot, making your whole body shake as he started to thrust the digits in and out of you. “Wow,” Jonathan breathed as he watched you, his brother smiling proudly next to him.

"She can probably come again pretty fast," Jackson assumed, "you should try. See how fast you can make her scream again."

Jackson, meanwhile, moved to kneel by your head, slapping your face a little to cue you to open your mouth. He groaned as he rubbed his tip over your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself alongside his salty precum.

You unintentionally clench on Jonathan's fingers, and he smiled wide. "Like that?" he asked eagerly. "Are you gonna come again?"

"Just keep doing it," Jackson urged his brother before speaking to you again. "C'mon baby, you can take a little more."

Holding your hair, Jackson started to fuck your mouth a bit more earnestly, making Jonathan frown at him after you gagged a few times. "Be careful," he warned him, "don't hurt her."

"I know, I know," Jackson rolled his eyes. "But look at that mouth, Crane, don't you think it's just made to take cock?"

Jonathan couldn't exactly disagree, he'd fantasized about your mouth plenty of times. But now, he was much more focused on your pussy-- he was watching it closely, enraptured by the way his fingers moved in and out of it... and the way it responded, gripping him tighter and tighter.

"Go on, suck it," Jackson ordered you impatiently, smacking you on the cheek again to try to encourage you. You whimpered and hollowed your cheeks, blinking up at him as he grinned down at you. "Oh, pretty eyes-- I can tell why Jonny couldn't resist you..."

You moaned again, and Jackson raised an eyebrow as he looked down for a moment at what Jonathan was doing-- which was moving his fingers faster inside you, watching you whimper and writhe as you reached the edge again.

"Show me," Jonathan begged, "come for me-- come on my fingers."

It happened pretty quickly, and Jackson let you take a break from sucking him for a second so they could both enjoy your pretty moans as you creamed around Jonathan's fingers.

"O-oh, fuck," Jonathan gasped, "I can feel her... pulsing."

"Yeah," Jackson grinned, "really something, isn't it?"

"Fuck," Jonathan said again, taking his fingers out and suddenly climbing onto the bed. "Need to feel that on my cock."

"Atta boy," Jackson praised with a laugh.

Jonathan moaned loudly as he pushed inside you, your own reaction a muffled groan around Jackson's cock which he shoved between your lips again. "Oh, god," Jonathan whined, "you feel even better than I remember, angel-- fuck, I missed you so much."

He was even more desperate and impatient than before, fucking you quickly and eagerly even though you were far too sensitive for it after coming twice in a row.

Jackson pulled back out of your mouth, but held your head steady as he stroked himself rapidly. “Gonna coat that pretty face,” he growled, “keep your mouth open, baby, I’m close…”

You whimpered and tried to keep your throat shut, afraid to choke on his come while laying back like this, and after a few more moments he groaned loudly as ropes of come fell over your face and onto your waiting tongue. You grunted a little in surprise but just tried to squint your eyes in case some got too close, but the vast majority went into your mouth or over your cheek.

"Fuck," Jackson purred, milking his cock for every drop before finally taking his hand away and sinking back, looking down at you with a new redness and sheen of sweat to his face. "Good girl. You can swallow now baby-- oh, wait, let's make sure you get it all first."

He swiped up the come on your cheek with his thumb, feeding it to you as you closed your lips and swallowed his salty spend.

"I told you good girls get a treat," he grinned.

Jonathan, meanwhile, was panting and whimpering and clearly trying to hold himself back-- but the way he held you tight enough to bruise gave away how close to the edge he really was. "I can't wait," he finally admitted with a groan. "I need to come, angel-- I need to come inside, get you pregnant. Then we can be happy together."

Suddenly, he started to rub your sore clit with his thumb; and you jolted again, pulsing around him as he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Fuck, beautiful-- just like that, let me feel you come again, please. Then I can fill you so deep..."

"You can make her come one more time," Jackson assured, "she's so sensitive-- go on and come for him, baby, let him feel how hard you come..."

Though Jonathan was a little irritated by the way Jackson made it seem like a favor you were doing on his behalf, he couldn't complain when he felt you coming around him, slick walls pulsing so perfectly around him that he had to come with a loud, broken moan. He kept moving until he was sure he'd given you everything, heart racing as he imagined and hoped that he'd properly bred you this time.

Then, there was a silence. Not very long, but plenty nervous as the three of you caught your breath.

"Well... mazel tov," Jackson offered with an awkward laugh, getting up off the bed and getting himself back in order. "I'll call you when it's all taken care of, Jonny. You, uh... you have fun with her, alright? Call if you need anything or, you know... feel like sharing again..."

"I wouldn't hold my breath for that, Jackson," Jonathan sighed.

"Don't miss me too much, honey," Jackson winked at you as he slipped his jacket back on. "But feel free to think about me so you can get off while this guy's fucking you," he joked, motioning to his brother with a tilt of his head.

"Don't listen to him, angel," Jonathan cooed at you as Jackson finally left the room. You shivered a little as he trailed kisses all over your face and neck, holding you a little tighter. "You're all mine-- you finally know that now, don't you?

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Remedy - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After you and Ethan both tease each other all day, you couldn't wait to be alone with him.

Contains: Oral - m and f receiving, p in v, rough-ish sex, dirty talk, a smidge of sexting i guessss

A/N: I found this in my notes today, if it's garbage, I'm sorry🙃 I wrote this FOREVERRR ago. Someone requested it but I lost it when I lost all my requests lmao. The Carpenter!Reader fic is coming soon, today was fucking insane.

Ethan was struggling to not get hard as he sat through his classes, and you were fully to blame. The morning started off with you walking around his apartment in nothing but one of his shirts and your panties, taking every opportunity to bend over in front of him that presented itself. You might’ve been intentionally trying to tease him, knowing that he wouldn’t have time to do anything about it if he wanted to make it to his first class on time.

If that wasn’t bad enough, you were sending him the filthiest messages as you sat in class.

‘I need your cock in my mouth so bad’

‘I love the way you whimper when it hits the back of my throat’

‘Mmm and the way it fills my pussy up’

He finally had to put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’, because his cock was throbbing as it strained against his jeans, and it was hard for him to focus on anything his professor was saying. You sent him one final message, clicking ‘Notify Anyway’ once you saw his messages were silenced.

‘I need you to fuck me as soon as you get home today’

That’s when Ethan got an idea, one that would help him get a little revenge, and have you begging for him by the end of the night.

When he got home, as bad as he wanted to just give in and fuck you, he brushed you off. He felt a little guilty, because he knew how badly you wanted it. But he knew you didn’t feel guilty making him struggle to get through his classes, so he decided to have a little fun with you.

“Hey, babe,” you said, quickly walking over to him as soon as you saw him.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” he asked, giving your lips a quick peck before he walked around you to set his stuff down.

“It would’ve been better if I wasn’t thinking about you all day,” you said, as you followed him towards his room. “But I’m sure you already knew that from the texts you were ignoring.”

“I read all of them,” he said, as he walked over to the closet and grabbed a new shirt, before pulling the one he was wearing over his head. Your gaze went straight to his abs before he put the other shirt on, blocking your view. “Are you ready to go to Tara’s? We’re supposed to be there in twenty minutes.”

“It only takes us ten minutes to get there,” you said, the seductiveness in your tone making him chuckle. “I need you, Eth.”

“You know once I get into it, I lose track of time,” he said as he walked back towards the bedroom door. “I’ll take care of you when we get back home, baby.”

You didn’t say anything, the pouty look on your face letting Ethan know how you felt. He sighed as he walked over to you and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s only fair for you to wait after how hard you made me earlier.”

As soon as he pulled away, he smirked at you once he noticed the sad look on your face turned into annoyance.

When you got to Tara’s, you knew the best way to not think about how bad you needed Ethan to fuck you was to distract yourself. Ethan watched you talk to Tara as he talked with Mindy and Anika about the movie they wanted to watch, and he was a little disappointed that you had a happy look on your face, like his attempts to make you feel the way he did earlier in the day wasn’t working.

Then, he remembered the texts you were sending him. He decided to take it up a notch once Tara walked away from you to go to the kitchen. He excused himself from the conversation with Mindy and Anika before he walked over to you, leaning down a little so what he was saying to you wouldn’t be heard by anyone else.

“Are you having fun, baby?” he asked, your breath hitching in your throat once you felt his on your neck. You nodded your head in response as you felt one of his hands go to your hip, before it moved towards your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. As soon as you let out a soft moan, he pulled it away. “You’ll be having a lot of fun later tonight, once I get your pretty ass back home.”

“Can we leave now?” you whispered back, your body involuntarily leaning into his as his hand moved up and down your side.

“Oh, come on, baby. You can be patient,” he said, as you huffed in response. “Just a couple hours, and my cock will be in your pussy so deep that you won’t be able to speak.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up before Ethan stole a quick kiss and pulled away.

“You wanna go to our spot on the couch? Mindy’s going to start the movie soon.”

As everyone was sat in front of the tv, you were trying so hard to focus on the movie. You were snuggled up with Ethan under one of the fuzzy blankets Tara had, and his hand kept inching further and further up your thigh. You shot him a warning glare as he smiled in response.

“Ethan, knock it off,” you softly whispered, your hand grabbing his and moving it back to his lap.

“Sorry, babe. I guess I just can’t wait to have my fingers in your pussy,” he said lowly, before he glanced around the room to make sure everyone was still paying attention to the movie. “And my tongue flicking against your sensitive clit.”

“This is so not fair,” you mumbled, as his hand when back to your thigh. “I wasn’t this mean to you.”

“My favorite though is when you’re about to cum, and I suck on your clit. You make the hottest sounds,” he mumbled, before you pulled his hand off your thigh and hopped out off your spot on the couch. Mindy grabbed the remote and paused the movie before everyone looked at you, the awkward silence in the air heavy, but not nearly as heavy as the sexual tension between you and your boyfriend.

“Ethan and I have to go,” you said, his eyes wide as he hesitantly stood up. 

“Is everything okay?” Tara asked, before Chad spoke up.

“They’re going to fuck,” he said, before he looked at Ethan. “If you want to talk dirty to your girl, do it a little quieter next time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ethan lied, as you grabbed his hand and led him out of the apartment.

The fast-paced walk to his place was silent, aside from the sounds of cars passing and sirens off in the distance. He was running through all the things he wanted to do to you in his head, all the positions he wanted you in. He was already hard from teasing you, but as his mind wandered, the feeling of his cock confined by his jeans and his boxers was starting to get painful.

He had his keys out before he made it to his apartment, and once you were inside, clothes started to fly before the door fully closed. You were both craving each other, both so desperate to do the things you’d said to each other throughout the day.

“Those need to go,” you said, looking down at his boxers as you slid your panties off.

Ethan did as you said, and at first, he thought you wanted to skip foreplay, until you dropped to your knees in front of him. You wrapped your hand around his cock as you looked up at him, his lips parting at the contact.

You swirled your tongue over the tip of his cock as your free hand reached between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your bundle of nerves. You gasped around him as you inched him into your mouth, his praise starting almost immediately.

“Fuck, that feels so good.”

“So fucking beautiful on your knees for me.”

“Yeah, just like that, baby.”

As your fingers moved against you, you slid him out of your mouth, your eyes still on his as your tongue flatly moved up his cock, base to tip. He was letting out the softest moans as his hand ran through your hair, his sounds turning into the loudest whimpers once to sucked him back into your mouth until his cock was almost to the back of your throat.

Your hand twisted as you hollowed your cheeks, his eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them on you. As soon as you took him back a little further, your gag reflex kicking in as you bobbed your head, he tugged on your hair, hard. 

“Gonna cum,” he groaned, as you bobbed your head faster.

Right as Ethan hit his high, he placed his free hand on the wall to stabilize himself as his mind went blank, his eyes screwing shut as you just kept sucking. It was so intense that he got a little lightheaded and had to pull you back by your hair, the feeling making you moan around him before he slid out of your mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, as he looked down to see you still on your knees, your eyes glassy from the tears that welled up. “I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.”

“You’re welcome,” you said softly, as he grabbed your hands to help you stand back up. “I was hoping you wouldn’t cum yet. I was close.”

“Oh, really?” He asked, “Let me help you with that.”

You expected to end up on the couch, because you knew you weren’t going to make it to his bed, but he had other ideas. He backed you towards the kitchen table, grabbing your hips and sitting you on it before he gently laid you back.

“Your kitchen table?” You said, giggling a little as he kissed up your thighs.

“No better place to eat, baby,” he mumbled against you, before he traced his tongue up your thigh, until he made it to your pussy. 

Your wetness was dripping out of you, and he didn’t want to miss a single drop as he dove in, lapping at your entrance before he pushed his tongue inside you.

Your hands tangled in his soft curls as he ate you out, your toes already tingling when he’d just gotten started. He hummed at how good your pussy tasted, his head leaning against your inner thigh as you lazily ran your nails all over his scalp.

He slid his tongue out of you and licked up your fold a few times before he made it to your clit. He chuckled as the slight contact made your hips arch off the table, before he pushed them back down.

“Fuck, Eth,” you moaned as the tip of his tongue gave you the perfect amount of pressure. “Fingers?”

He did as you asked, sliding two digits into your soaked pussy with ease. He watched you as he angled his fingers to move them against that special spot inside you, your jaw dropping as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He knew you were close when your whining got louder, and he was more than willing to get a noise complaint from his neighbors if he was making you feel as good as you were. Your pussy began to pulse around his fingers before you whimpered that you were cumming, your entire body starting to jolt as you let that feeling take over.

When Ethan pulled away, he smirked at you as your body was sprawled out across the table, your breathing labored as you let out the shakiest whimpers he’d ever heard.

“Maybe us teasing each other all day isn’t a bad thing,” he said, as you looked at him, your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I’m not done with you, yet. Let me know when you’re ready for more, if you think you can take it.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” You asked, as you sat up. Your legs were a little weak when you hopped off the table, your boyfriend’s knowing smile making you roll your eyes as he held you upright.

“That,” he said, chuckling as he turned you around and bent you over the table.

You whimpered when you felt his cock pressing against your ass, your hips instinctively moving back towards him.

“How bad do you want it?” He asked, running the tip of his cock over your dripping pussy.

“So bad,” you said, whining once you felt his tip inside of you.

He made it clear that he wasn’t done teasing you when he slid inside you halfway and pulled out. He kept repeating his actions until you were begging him for all of it.

“Please baby,” you whimpered, as he gave you a little more than he had before. “I need it.”

“You need it?” he questioned, before he slid all the way inside you, the full feeling causing a low moan to build in your throat. “Don’t hold back. Let me know how good it feels.” 

His thrusts were slow at first, so deep that his hip bones were pressed against your ass as he filled you up. You needed him to go faster, but before you had the chance to say anything, he sped up. His hands were gripping your hips as he pulled you back to meet every thrust, your moans turning to whimpers as he kept hitting that spot.

You gripped the table with your hands as your legs started to tingle, his skin slapping against yours so hard that it was starting to sting, but it only made it feel even better.

“Fuck, I’m getting close,” you whined out, as he laughed to himself.

“Already?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, as his hand snaked underneath you to pull you towards him, your back pressed against his chest.

He kept his pace as your hand went to your clit, rubbing fast circles as he placed kisses on the side of your neck.

“Gonna cum,” you cried, your shaky hand still moving as you heard him start to grunt.

He laid you back over the table as he fucked you through your orgasm, his right on the edge as he pounded into you harder than before.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned, “Can I cum in you?”

“Please,” you said, your voice showing how tired you were as his hips snapped forward a few more times until they slowed.

Ethan stayed inside you as he caught his breath, his hands running over the flesh that was red from how hard his skin was slapping against yours.

“You okay, baby?”

You lazily nodded your head against the table in response, before he helped you stand.

When you turned around to face him, he leaned down to kiss you, his lips gently moving against yours before he pulled you away and held you against his chest.

“I love you,” he said, his hands running over your back as he kissed the top of your head.

“I love you, too.”

[oharababe]

STRESS RELIEVER | MIGUEL O'HARA

⋆𐙚₊˚ premise: you're struggling to keep your focus with the stress and miguel offers to ease that worry off you.

⋆𐙚₊˚ cw: explicit content, finger f*cking, dirty talk. 18+

⋆𐙚₊˚ tags: modern + college au. afab reader + playboy miguel.

⋆𐙚₊˚ wc: 3,573

a/n. this is long overdue for @spikedhe4rt who requested miguel to finger fuck reader as a stress relief. i aged reader and miguel to between 22-23 in this oneshot since they're college students. this fic is longer than intended but hey, we like to take it slow burn here.

Sometimes you contemplate why you put yourself in this kind of situation. 

You were aware that you have exams coming up in the next few weeks. But you were focused on making sure that you got your assignments done before the deadline. So it was natural for you to prioritise those. You wish you had paid more attention to the dates because just when you thought that you would have more time to revise, you didn’t. Leaving you with only three weeks until your exam. And now you’re struggling to get information into your head. 

“Fuck,” you mumble. The machine makes a soft drilling noise as it pours coffee into your mug. You rub your forehead with your hand as you wait for your drink to finish. Thinking about what topics you need to revise for the exam. Mentally planning how you would organise and plan yourself for another long session of studying. It’s going to be another long night.

When your drink is ready, you stride your way to the dining table where all your notes and books are set. With not enough desk space you have in your room, the dining table has turned into your second desk to accommodate all the reading materials and your laptop to work on. You strap yourself in your seat, ready for another torturous session of studying for the finals. 

All the caffeine from the coffee, tea and sugary energy drinks didn’t last long in your system. At first, you feel the buzz of the caffeine that helps you go through two hours of reading and answering mock questions without a proper break. You feel yourself pushing through, feeling motivated that you can do this. But then, the effects wear off, and now you’re struggling through short video clips on your laptop after two hours into your study session. 

Your mind battles. Reminding you about the consequences of you losing more time. But you can’t be bothered at the moment. You are convincing yourself that you deserve a break from studying for fifteen minutes which turned into a two-hour rest and procrastination. 

At this rate, you know that you won't get any studying done. You’re going to have to face the consequences of that but you can’t be bothered about it for now. Staring mindlessly at your laptop with headphones on as you watch a reality television adaption to pass the time. 

“Dios, you’re still here this late?” 

Your eyes look up from your laptop to find your roommate in the dining area. Miguel stands at the entrance in his black leather jacket, red shirt underneath and dark-coloured jeans. His black helmet rests on his left lip and it looks like he’s returned from wherever he went or did. You didn’t realise that he wasn’t in the house you both shared all this time. “When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look shit.” 

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You say. Your relationship with Miguel O’Hara is rather tricky, to say the least. Sometimes, the two of you get along and have a decent conversation with each other about careers, and personal experiences and share similar interests. Though other times, it’s not necessary. It’s mostly when he would bring people over to the house and then take one girl up to his room. Having to hear moans from the girls he fucked and Miguel’s growls and dirty talks. 

It annoys you to no end, especially the one incident when you walked into the bathroom with him getting a blow job in the shower. It’s still his fault for not locking the bathroom or even putting a sign on the door to say that he’s busy getting pleased.  

Even after that, your subtle attraction for Miguel still resonates with you. 

You realise your mug is empty, another drink that is supposed to keep you going has gone to waste in your system. You can’t be bothered but you know that you’ve wasted time not studying when you’re supposed to. So, you get up from your seat, walk into the kitchen and do the same routine that you’ve done the past few weeks when you’re cramming for finals. Either make your coffee, or tea or grab an energy drink. The caffeine from the coffee is too much for you to handle at the moment and tea isn’t strong enough for you. So you settle for an energy drink where it’s in between enough caffeine to maybe help you go through for another three hours for now. 

“Are you thinking of studying again?” Miguel sounds a bit disbelieving, but not surprised. He’s now in the kitchen with you as you take your energy drink of choice for the night—or early morning. You don’t want to look at the time “There’s no point. You’re not going to remember anything at this rate.”

“Can we just… not do this?” You warn, holding your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking. Stop creating conversations that would lead to an argument because you know it would happen. Especially with your emotions all over the place.  

Miguel stares at you, his eyes roaming up and down. Not long after, his lips curl into a smirk. Leaning his side against the frame of the long, rectangular entrance arch. “You’re stressed out. Miss Perfect finally breaks down for finals.”  

A tired sigh escapes out of your mouth. You focus to proceed on opening up the can, hearing its fizziness before pouring it into your mug. “You could say that.” 

The kitchen falls into silence. What he says is certainly true and you feel that you brought this on yourself. You were off-tracked with your assignments and didn’t check the right exam dates. It’s an error on your part but you are trying to do your best to make it through another year of college without failing. At this point, you’re willing to accept a passing grade just to make it to another year.  

“I’ll study and keep you company,” Miguel declares. “Only to make sure you stay focused and get on track. No more messing around. Got that?” 

You blink, unprepared for his words. You’re not sure why he’s doing this to you but what he said made a rush of warmth fill your chest. Despite his words, you guess that he thinks it’s better to have someone to study with rather than doing it alone. But you don’t ask Miguel if that’s his intention, in case he decides to rethink his offer.

“Thank you.” 

Miguel unfolds his arms and lets it drop to his sides. His hands are in his pockets as he’s about to leave, but then he looks over his shoulder to you. “And also; nadie bebe su bebida energética de una taza.” He says before disappearing elsewhere. 

You blink and look down at the mug in your hand, guessing that Miguel is talking about how energy drinks are meant to drink from their can, and not from a mug. 

* * * * * 

You did manage to push yourself for another two hours before you came crashing again. 

“I can’t focus on anything else right now. My mind has gone blank.” You sigh, slumping on your seat. That’s another study session that failed.

“Hm,” Miguel responds. Focusing on his study materials. “I think you’ve studied too much. That’s why you’re burned out.” 

There is some truth to his words. You have been pushing yourself to the bone for this exam and now your mind is haywired. Everything feels numbing in your head. The feelings of exhaustion, guilt and unbotheredness are jumbled in you. 

“I’m just really stressed out. I want to do well on this exam but my brain just… can’t grasp anything that I’ve studied.” You say, sounding a little disheartened. “I can’t focus, I can’t concentrate.” 

Miguel couldn’t help but glance at you. Taking in the way you’re slumped in your seat and how hollow your eyes are, filled with fatigue and emptiness. You look stressed out. He wonders when was the last time you had rest – a proper break. Not the stupid Pomodoro breaks where you take five to ten minutes of break time before getting back to studying. 

He wonders when was the last time you had taken care of yourself? 

Miguel turns his attention to you when he hears you close one of your heavy books. You let out a sigh, “I can’t even relax without being so much on edge. Fuck.” 

He thinks you’re right as he sees the way your body tenses in stress and anxiety. Miguel’s expression stays unfazed though he does feel sympathy seeing you in such a state. “Hey, you should get some rest. Go to bed early or something.” 

“I will after I attempt to get this lesson done. Then, I’ll go to bed.” 

Miguel gives you a solemn look. Your determination is one of the things he admires about you. Your willingness to do whatever it takes to get your points across. It made you endearing in his eyes. But at the moment, it’s making you look stubborn and somewhat prideful. The last thing you need is a bad experience of burnout before your exam, and he knows that you know this as well deep down.

“Let me help you to relax,” 

“Huh?” You shoot him a confused look. As if he’s said something unusual to you. “Help me… relax? How do you plan on doing that?” 

Miguel nods, “You are tensed up and you’re not getting anything remembered in your head. Your mind can’t focus.”  

You raise a brow at him, unsure where your roommate is coming from. Miguel is right, you do need to take a proper break since your productivity is rather counterproductive. But his words still puzzle you about how he can help you relax. “And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?” You ask curiously. “What do you do to relax when you’re stressed out?” 

“You know, go to the gym. Take a walk, drive around.” Miguel says it casually. “Sometimes masturbating helps to wire your brain to relax.”

You stare at your roommate before burying your face in your hands with a groan. Not only is the suggestion embarrassing but you have to imagine Miguel playing with himself. How his hands would stroke his cock, hot and pulsing in the palm of his hands. Envisioning the grunted breaths and deep groans he makes. It isn’t as if you haven’t done that to yourself either, pleasuring yourself. You’ve done that on the nights where you could hear the headboard of his bed from his room moving as the girl Miguel brought for the night kept moaning. 

You shake your head, dismissing the thoughts immediately. Or try to. “I’m not in the right mindset to do that.” 

Miguel raises an eyebrow. “I’m not saying you should do it. I’m offering to do it. It’s on the table for you.” 

“What?” You stare at him in shock and confusion. You think you heard him wrong but from the unfazed look on his face, you know that he is serious about this. Serious about giving you an orgasm, or maybe multiple orgasms. Because you know from the women and girls he brings over to fuck, Miguel has them moaning more than three times. 

When you open up your mouth, you can hear yourself stammering your words. The thought of it is disgusting but at the same time, arouses you. “Miguel, I–” 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his red eyes piercing into yours. Captivating you to stop talking. To stop denying the offer of pleasure. You give Miguel a look of uncertainty, unsure how to respond to his offer.

“What’s it gonna be?” Miguel asks. The corner of his mouth curves up to a tiny smirk. “No pressure, chica. I want you to think about it and let me know if you’re up for it or not.” 

Miguel goes back to reading his study notes with a neutral expression as if the conversation didn’t happen. He doesn’t look at you and the silence in the room speaks volumes. Leaving you to think about the offer. You’re not sure why he is even offering himself to give you pleasure. Miguel is your friend, for goodness sake. The guy is out of your league and he has been with other people, you know this. Is he doing this out of pity or could there be more to it? 

The two of you have lived together for three years of schooling, and have known each other for that long. He doesn’t give you attention in a lustful way or lustful like he does with other girls; the kind of interest in starting a sexual relationship with you. It’s a blessing in disguise yet at the same time, you want a connection more than just being his friend. 

You have a crush on Miguel but he doesn’t seem the type of guy who isn’t ready to commit to one person just yet. Especially when you’re both still young and exploring life ahead.  

“Okay,” you closed your book with a thud. You catch his eyes when you fully turn to talk to him. This idea is already as insane as it is, but you’re desperate to stop feeling like a lost cause about your exam. You just want to forget about your test for a few minutes. Maybe a couple of hours at most. “I’ll take up on your offer. What I’ve been doing is not working, and I need some sort of break before I go insane.” 

Miguel grins and then puts his reading materials away. You always think that he looks so handsome when he smiles. “Well then. Move your books and laptop aside and sit on the table for me.” Miguel looks at you when you stare at him. “It will be a lot nicer like that, trust me.” He adds. 

“Okay, I���ll get my stuff out of the way.” You say and begin picking up your books and laptop. Miguel does the same, putting his things away, then turns his attention to look at you. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the table, waiting for his next words. The beating of your heart thumping is the only thing you can hear as you watch Miguel. He stands in front of you in between your thighs. Tall, built and handsome. His red eyes look down on you as they shine under the lights in the dining area. 

You feel his hands on the sides of your waistband shorts, his fingers brushing against your clothed skin and hips. “May I?” Miguel asks as he looks at you. 

“Sure,” you say. You’re not one to be nervous around easily but your roommate seems to have that effect on you. When you lift your hips slightly, Miguel curls his fingers on the waistband and pulls down your shorts. Discarding your clothed item you notice that he’s taken off your panties too. “Miguel–” 

His stare made you pause, his red piercing eyes keep you quiet. You’ve always known what Miguel’s eyes are like but in this moment of what you’re letting him do to you, it stirs feelings in you. The gaze in his eyes is fiery in desire; so focused and enraptured. He looks at you in silence – keeping his eyes on you – as he slowly pulls down everything and discards it somewhere in the room. 

“Open your legs a little for me, pretty,” Miguel tells you. “Yes, that’s it.” 

The heat on your cheeks burns you as your heart thumps in your chest at how intimate and vulnerable the situation looks. Never in your dreams you would be in this situation, much less doing it with Miguel O’Hara.

 “It’s not too late to change your mind and tell me no.” He says. Standing between your legs, his calloused fingers on your inner right thigh. “I won’t hate you for it.” 

Your breathing is soft and steady. “Shouldn’t you have asked me that before you took my panties off?” You chuckled with a small smile. You feel a little more relaxed about what you and he are starting. 

Miguel grins, “I probably should have.” His expression becomes serious. “I’ll start slow.” 

You watch as he puts two fingers in his mouth with a gentle suck. When he pulls them out, his digits are glistened wet under the lights. Lubricated and wet against his tan skin. Miguel catches you dazing at him, his intense expression stays on you, as he brings his fingers between your thighs. They find themselves between your flaps, tracing your inner folds with his fingertips. 

“You’re already wet before I touch you.” Miguel hums in approval. “That’s good.” 

His fingers move slowly like he promised. You feel him gather your sleek arousal with a gentle swipe of his thumb and move up to the hood of your cunt. You moan softly when you feel Miguel play with your clit, circling and putting just the right pressure that has you tingling in sensation. Your hands grip on the edge of the table as you brace yourself. 

“Gosh, that feels nice.” You sigh. Your eyes are closed, indulging in the pleasure, finding your body relaxed and mind in tranquillity. Focusing on feeling his fingers touch and tease your folds and clit. Maybe this is what you truly need for a break from intense studying. 

“I like the look on your face,” Miguel tells you. You can picture the smirk from the tone of his voice. “This is just the beginning of your stress relief.” 

You didn’t get to open your eyes and ask him what he meant when you felt something push inside your cunt. Your walls are wet and warm, feeling one of Miguel’s digits sliding into your pussy with ease. It has you gasping and moaning softly, your back arches and hands gripping tightly onto the table edge. Miguel has his index finger in you and he slips in his middle finger, stretching your pussy open. His thumb is still circling your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you. 

“Stay still, bonita.” His voice deeps, almost growling. “And don’t think. Just focus on the feeling of my fingers. Relax for me.” 

You can’t help but tighten around his fingers from the command. Hoping that he didn’t feel the way your clit throbs from his command. You never heard him speak like that before – maybe not to you – but it sounds hot. All you could focus on is the way his fingers rub and massage your pussy. 

You can tell that Miguel is certainly experienced with the way he can tease your vulva and play with your clit, letting your breathless sighs and moans guide him. It’s completely easy to forget about anything else but being finger fuck by the guy you liked. 

“Oh, oh.” You softly moan, putting the heels of your feet on the edge of the table. Your hands clutch onto his forearms as Miguel fingers you. It has your head spinning with the way he alternates between fingering and rubbing your slick folds. The pace is not fast or slow-- just perfect, as it eases you off and you forget about what you're stressed about in the first place. 

And when he pushes his fingers into your pussy, it has you tilting your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name, as you feel him going deeper.

"So tight around my fingers. You definitely need this." Miguel smirks, his breath warms your neck. “Need a good stretch, don’t you, bonita?” 

You groan as you feel him continuously plunge his digits in and out of you. Miguel doesn’t stick to one way to pleasure you; he would rub your wet folds, flicker your clit up and down and sideways with his thumb, and circle your little pearl. At the corner of your eye, you see the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk when clutching onto his forearms for dear life. 

“Miguel,” you mewl. The knot in your lower belly tightens when he plunges his whole fingers into your slick pussy, thrusting them in and out. Your body moves in a sudden, forward thrust when Miguel continues to come hither inside your pussy, having his fingers rubbing your G-spot. He doesn’t stop to flicker and circle your throbbing clit and a sultry gasp catches in your throat as your thighs begin to quiver. “Oh, fuck!” 

“That’s it, beautiful. Oh, you really do need this, don’t you?” Miguel asks almost mockingly. You arch your back in his embrace and let out another moan, feeling his two fingers flicking inside your pussy walls. He knows exactly what he’s doing, drawing out more noises from you as your lower body still trembles, and your cum spilling out of your folds and onto his fingers. 

It feels as if Miguel is toying with you and pussy for a long time, even after being overstimulated and sensitive. He slows down his ministrant but still has his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit and wet folds. You relax in his arm, head on his shoulder as you regain your senses from orgasm. All thoughts cleared up in your head and you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking or doing earlier before being finger-fucked. 

Miguel’s voice sounds a little raspy and distinct, still toying with your cunt, as he whispers:  “Wanna continue this elsewhere?” 

feel free to support me further on my ko-fi page!

[melzula]

Hi, i love your stuff! Your writing is AMAZING!

Could you do a sokkaxreader fic, where reader gets majorly hurt saving sokkas life-and she almost dies and super angst but turns sweet/fluff?

-✨anon

a/n: ugh i love angst!!! tysm for requesting this <3

warnings: mentions of blood, injury,

summary: a fight gone wrong leads to an important revelation for you and Sokka

It all had happened so fast.

One minute your group is enjoying a nice breakfast together and the next you’re fighting off Azula and her minions. They’d ambushed you, catching you in a vulnerable position and striking the moment you least expected them to. You had the advantage of numbers against them, but these girls were immensely skilled, so you didn’t have enough of an edge to completely defend yourselves against their attack.

You were assisting Katara in trying to take down Azula when you happened to catch a glance of Sokka from across the way. His back was turned to you and his focus was set on trying to dodge Ty Lee’s chi blocks, so he wasn’t able to detect the blades that were being aimed in his direction. Your eyes widened with panic as you quickly make your way towards him; you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop Mai from throwing the knives, but you’d at least be fast enough to get in their path and stop them from hitting your friend.

“Sokka, move!” You urged, shoving him out of the way and effectively knocking over Ty Lee in the process as well. You weren’t given the time to process anything else as you immediately felt the blades make contact with your skin, digging themselves deep into your back. You cried out in agony before immediately collapsing to the ground, all while Sokka watched on in horror.

“Y/n!” He screamed before scrambling to your side. The fabric of your top was beginning to turn a deep red, and you could already begin to feel the effects of blood loss take over. Your vision was hazy and your body felt cold, and yet you were still able to make out the features of his face as he stared down at you with tears in his eyes.

“Just hang on, I’m going to get you out of here!” He insisted, some of his tears landing on your face. You couldn’t find the strength to muster up a response, so instead you simply let your eyes close and allowed the cold to consume you whole.

When you regain consciousness again you find yourself in a tent. Everything hurts and your body feels like it’s on fire, and yet you can’t find the strength to move. Blurry faces hover over you and muffled voices fill your ears, but no matter how hard you try you can’t make sense of any of your surroundings.

“-more water. I need more water!”

“Why isn’t it working?!”

A sharp pulse jolts up your spine and this time you do cry out in pain, effectively startling the figures in the tent.

“Y/n!” A voice cries. Sokka’s voice.

He’s beside you in an instant, kneeling before you and taking your hand tightly in his own. You’ve never seen him like this, so distraught and terrified. You wonder what happened when you passed out.

“Try to stay awake, okay? Please stay awake,” he begs you before looking frantically to his sister. “She doesn’t look any better!”

“Sokka, I’m doing everything I can here!” His sister shouts back, equally distressed as she exerts all of her energy into healing you. Progress is there but it’s slow, and she worries that if she isn’t fast enough the damage may be permanent. Why did the blades have to hit your spine so perfectly?

“Sokka…” you murmur quietly, your eyes beginning to feel heavy yet again.

“No, no, no, y/n, look at me! Don’t go back to sleep!”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears, and you’re swept back under.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since you were last conscious, but the lamp beside you must mean that it’s grown dark outside. You feel warm, the sharp pain is gone, and all that is left behind is a sense of exhaustion from your adrenaline inducing day. You try to sit up only to immediately collapse due to the soreness of your back, but at least you’re able to move now.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t move,” Sokka insists, alerting you of his presence beside you. You feel his palm carefully lift the back of your head towards the bowl of water he holds in his other hand, allowing you to take greedy gulps until you’re satisfied. “Katara says you shouldn’t try to get up yet or you’ll strain yourself. Your body is still adjusting.”

“What happened? How long have I been asleep?” You ask groggily.

“About twelve hours,” he replies sullenly, and it isn’t until this moment that you’re able to detect the exhaustion present on his features. “Those blades dug right through your skin and into your spine. Katara spent hours healing you; for a minute we thought you might not make it or that maybe you’d live but be paralyzed for the rest of your life. Why did you do it?”

“What?”

“Why did you do it?” Sokka says more firmly this time. “How could you do something so stupid like that?! You could’ve died!”

“It’s not stupid to risk my life for someone I love,” you correct him with a faint smile. Your admission takes him by surprise, his face immediately growing hot and his mind actually at a loss for words for once.

“You… you love me?” He asks gently, almost as if he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought it was obvious, dummy.”

“Not to me!” He cries defensively. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a small shrug. “I guess there’s never really been a good time; there’s always another fight to win or people to save. It just didn’t feel right.”

“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs faintly. “But I’m glad you told me now, and I’m glad you’re alive. Because I can’t stand to lose another person that I love.”

You smile tiredly at his words, a new sense of understanding now being shared between you both. You love each other, and neither of you can stand to lose the other. This is real now, and you’re in it for the long haul.

He presses a kiss to your forehead then and urges you to get some more rest, and so you do. And Sokka stays planted right beside you to keep watch over you in your vulnerable state. In that moment he swears he’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.

And that’s a promise he intends to keep for a lifetime.

[aestrayla]

cherries or peaches? pt. 2 ft. obey me! datables

summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! datables x f!reader

cw: HIGHLY suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (sweetheart), fondling, groping, grinding/humping, semi-public but no sex, licking, stripping, MY HUMOUR..

word count: 1.4k

a/n: thank u so much for the love on the first part, im so happy to be able to write these hcs, they’re such a fun idea. i got a bit carried away and some of these turned into half-ish fics but i hope u enjoy this version just as much as the first ♡

diavolo loves ass. the end.

just kidding.

ever since arriving in the devildom, student council meetings had always been a bore to you. you were never able to understand the complex topics of the “worldly problems” discussed, which often led to you staring out into space.

but ever since you got close to diavolo, things had changed.

“keep it down, y/n,” diavolo whispered through clenched teeth, as he kept a beaming smile glued to his face.

you let out a peeved groan. how the hell were you supposed to keep quiet when he kept rocking you back and forth on his lap like this?

despite your squirming, his hands never left you as he pushed and kneaded at your ass under the table. his hard-on evident as it ground against your clit, eliciting hushed whimpers from your lips.

in many ways, doing this was beyond worse than just zoning out, one wrong move and the whole student council would probably never look you in the eye again.

to make matters worse, diavolo insisted that meetings can’t start unless you were up here, in his lap, at all times.

“dia, i can’t do this anymore,” you whimpered under your breath.

“it’s almost over soon, sweetheart. just a little longer ‘n then i’ll make you feel good, hm?”

it might not be obvious at first, but barbatos loves boobs.

hearing that he was the “greatest pastry chef in all three worlds” has always been something that intrigued you. it wasn’t until you tried them for yourself that you realised that this statement was far from being a lie.

it was only a few weeks ago that you asked him to teach you a few of his recipes, you had never seen so much delight in his eyes. “oh that would be great, y/n! i’ve always been looking forward to the day you’d ask me so.”

as you slam the door to the oven, a gust of the hot air blows against your face, “how long should these be in the oven for, barbs?”

“thirty minutes should be fine. do you mind adding some of that sugar over there into this bowl?” you set the oven timer to thirty minutes before scurrying over with a measured bowl of sugar, pouring it into the bowl of fresh cream.

“perfect, could you whisk up this cream for me while i go find the vanilla?”

“sure.” he hands you the whisk before poking his nose through the cupboards in search of vanilla.

as you were whisking, you let your mind wander. gosh, i can’t wait to try this when it’s done… but dang i lowkey wonder when he’s gonna let me in his pants already… a few wet splatters across your chest had snapped you back to focus, “oh shit— i spilt it on me!”

the clank of the whisk dropping to the countertop had barbatos rushing towards you.

“oh goodness me, you’ve made a mess!”

“i know… fuck i’m sorry. i’ll just get a tea towel and wipe—”

before you could finish your sentence, barbatos had stopped you. his body crowding up against yours as he leaned in. holding you by your waist, you could feel his kitten licks swipe against your chest, even reaching as far down to the cleavage of your boobs.

you started to feel hot and dazed as the sweet aroma drifted through the kitchen, while he started to suck harshly against your skin, fingers creeping up to caress you’re boobs. soft pants began to leave your mouth as his tongue worked across your chest, but before it could escalate any further, he had pulled away.

as he stepped back, wiping the corner of his lips, you were left completely flustered, “oh wow, the cream without the vanilla tastes really good, you might just have a talent for baking y/n!”

“uh-huh…” you muttered, staring at him dumb-found and wide-eyed.

simeon is secretly a big fan of boobs, so today was a big treat for him.

it was the weekend, he had scored a pair of free tickets to the amusement park, and of course decided to bring you along. it was a leisurely day however, the rides and attractions he decided to do were almost too tame for your excitement.

dragging him along, you spot an attraction that seemed to catch your eye. handing two tokens to the employee, you quickly rushed into the tank, simeon freezing, clearly stunned and confused about what was about to happen. “hey y/n, what’s going on?!”

taking a seat on the tiny platform you point to the target beside you, “can you hit a bullseye?” you winked.

the employee hands simeon a ball, “you’ve got three tries, buddy.” after a moment of hesitation, he throws the ball, hitting the center of the target with a loud smack.

you let out a small shriek before getting submerged into the tank of water. “oh my— Y/N!” simeon rushes towards the tank, quickly pulling you out from the water. you let out sharp breaths before giggling, “your aim is amazing!”

“is this your idea of fun?!” his hands reach up to hold both sides of your face, turning it from one side to the other. “you’re not hurt are you?”

you smile sweetly, flattered by his concern, “i’m fine simeon, it was fun, really.”

he sighs, “good, alright.” his eyes travel over your body checking for any scrapes before widening at the sight of your chest. the water had soaked your white shirt completely, revealing that you were wearing nothing underneath. your round nipples were perked up from the cold water while your shirt was clinging onto your wet skin.

gasping even louder than before, in a flimsy last-minute attempt to cover you up, he slaps his hands over each of your boobs and although it works in his favour, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“don’t laugh y/n! we need to get you a new shirt, or at least a sweater!”

you pull him towards you by his collar, your lips mere inches away from touching, “so are you gonna help me take this one off first?” your purr.

his hands race to cover his reddened face, “w-wait that’s not what i—!” upon realising your boobs are on display again, he slams his hands back over them, “y/n!” he whines.

two hours in, and it was blatantly obvious to solomon that this tutoring session was going nowhere.

you weren’t understanding any terms or concepts of the topic at hand and with a week to go before your final, it seemed like solomon was more worried about this than you were. surely it isn’t because you’re too distracted sitting in his lap, right?

he clears his throat, “how about this…” you slowly lift your head up from the palm of your hands, clearly distressed about your upcoming failure. “for every question you get incorrect, you remove a piece of clothing.”

you raise your brows, intrigued, “and for every question i get right, you remove a piece of clothing?” you stare back at him.

“exactly, and for that answer…” he slowly shrugs off his blazer and places it behind his chair, “i’ll remove this.”

in hopes of this becoming a motivation for you, he began to quiz you with a mini questionnaire. “what are the three ingredients used to make the elixir of cerebral stimulation?”

you internally face palm because you knew jack shit about brewing potions, “uhhh… newt legs, unicorn hair, and frog mucus?”

solomon clears his throat ubruptly. “um, no. the correct answer is powdered unicorn hoof, bittergrass root, and caladrius blood.”

you look down in embarrassment before removing three pieces of clothing. only four minutes in and you’re left in nothing but your underwear and bra.

“last and final question, what covered the devildom when it was first created?”

“…darkness?”

“…unfortunately, that is incorrect. the correct answer is a forest.”

you groan. you haven’t gotten a single question correct and embarrassment was evident as your face was flushed. you turn to face solomon, “at this point, why don’t you choose what i take off?”

your pretty face staring up at him, teary and doe-eyed had him swooning. slowly standing up and pushing your back down onto the table, he stared deliriously at you. papers were scattered everywhere and textbooks were crumpled open. your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands gently pulled the straps of your bra down your shoulders.

staring at your bare chest he murmurs, “i’m obsessed with these,” before diving straight in.

a/n: haven’t written in about 5 months so excuse how rusty my writing has gotten.. but nonetheless, thank for reading this far, luv you all ♡

©2024 aestrayla. do not modify, copy, translate or share.