#oooh so he’s THAT type
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wait so Lucrezia married a brute and Cesare immediately finds another smart blonde woman married to a brute and kills her husband. He clearly has a type
#the type being his sister#loved it when he carried his sister bridal style to bed while she was in her wedding dress like a husband carrying his new bride to#their new house/wedding bed and like a brother carrying his younger sister to bed because she's still a child who stayed up#past her bedtime#very good#I need something intriguing fast paced easy and set during the middle ages (kinda) so The borgias it is#I'm almost done with the first season but I abandoned Black sails after the first season#despite very much liking it#so we'll see#I don't have that much time to watch series anyway not if I also want to read#but The borgias is very good and very enjoyable#Personal#oooh also I keep recognising actors that play minor parts and it's very entertaining#Luke Paqualino is the only actor so far that manages to pronounce Italian words right#Cesare gets close but not quite
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Oug I need to make more r&m fanart and post it but I’ve been so horribly busy w school that the only thing I could make in the past week and a half was a cringe ass 2 panel self ship comic about getting stoned with Richard and how he gets dumb and philosophical when high
#sorry I cannot stand when high people say quote enquote deep stuff#like oooh time is an illusion we’re all subject to it#oooh I can dimension travel with my mind oooh I can imagine a new color oooooh#literally shut the fuck up you are Not as cool as you think you are#I think I extra hate this type of high person bc my shitty nasty roommate gets like this when he’s high and he’s so pretentious about it#anyway if I shared a blunt with Richard Daniel sanchez III and he tried to tell me about how big and empty the universe is#I would look into his stupid eyes and tell him to minecraft himself
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ngl yandere as a genre has so much potential but i have literally never seen it executed in a way that didn’t immediately squander that potential
#marzi speaks#this could be so GOOD if people didn’t only write middle schooler type of shit about it#i mean look at the themes we could play with. love versus obsession. power dynamics in relationships#violence as an expression of love. love as an expression of violence#we have POTENTIAL. there is OPPORTUNITY here#but then it’s always oooh anime girl with knife or oooh anime boy kidnaps you and promises he won’t hurt you !!#fuck that be original!!! come the fuck on !!! don’t just wattpad-ify it!#also if ur gonna make a yandere version of a character don’t kill all of their character#yandere should be a trait not a personality#this is why i stick to vampires it’s the only reliable way to get weird murderous obsessive love stories nowadays
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have been thinking too much abt the possibilities for gojo’s family… just bc he’s a one man show doesn’t mean he’s an only child
#[☾ ] lee stop posting challenge#personally think he’s the type to have sisters… one older and one younger#oooh you want to talk abt this with me so bad
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Inktober 2023 Year 8 Day 27: Hope He truly is on the side of Ultimate Hope! A ray of sunshine! Full of love for his friends!! The Ultimate Friend!
#Inktober2023#jazzink#inktober#nagito#danganronpa#studying him like a BUG#no spoilers!!!#i actually havent beaten it yet!!#but he has been my favorite from the start!!#and oooh ohhhh he is something!!!#i want to pick his brains apart affectionately#i do love drawing drippy hearts to represent a sort of unhinged type of love#this game has my brain BURNING#esp bc im an overthinker#i am FERAL#oh his laugh....is so lovely <333#the complexity of these characters is DELIGHTFUL
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At first, i wanted to say "Well, obviously Chris gets more leeway. His long established beloved character" :p But then i realized most RE 7/8 fans never played other RE games 🤣🤣 And they most likely don't really care for him :p
So people really just looked at this woman and collectively decided she's the worst :p
I'm pretty sure even people who like Chris don't enjoy how he's portrayed in 8.
It's just the fact that he can effectively do the same thing Mia did, and the worst I see for him is like "Yeah, that was stupid."
And Mia gets called abusive and a terrible wife/mother.
BUT ALCINA AND HER DAUGHTERS AND MIRANDA AND DONNA ALL GET A PASS FOR BEING TERRIBLE PEOPLE CAUSE THEY'RE HOT I GUESS??? But they're literally worse.
God forbid a woman be a complex character with A cup boobs I guess.
#she doesn't even DO anything in village. We get 2 minutes of her holding rose and suddently she's the worst mom ever#i'm taking this way to personally pfff but still#i really hesitate to call it misogyny but also i feel like if mia was a guy she would not be this hated#if she was guy this would be like ''oooh he's so bad i could fix him/he would ruin me'' type shit yknow#asks#horror lady00
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thoughts
THIB IS ACTUALLY A NEW LISTEN TO ME
#Fob#:0#Listening to it while typing this#I LIKE IT#OOOH#OH HELL YES!!!!!#LITERALLY ME#THANK YOU ROSEY PIE#THIS IS SO GOOD#IM MEEELAOKWKBWKS#I LOFE YHSO#OH MY LORDNWSS#OH HELL YES!#OH HELL YES!!!!!!!#IM NOT SO SURE WHAT HE'S SAYING BUT IT HITS#OOOOH.T#THE GYITAR.#OMHB EOSK#OAKSLSK#OAKKSKS#ME#EME#OH HELL YES#LIVE LSIETNIN THIS IS O S FIRE#THREE TIME FOR THE HOLINESS#I THINK RHATS WHAT HE WAS SAYIN#OMG#NOW#YOU KNOW WHAT TEHY DO TO GUYS LIKE US IN PRISON#BEST SONGS PLAYING RN
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reminder:
satoshi is pretty dang pretty.
#krad says he's PRETTIER but idk man#when this series came out i was the same age as the protags and had SUCH A MASSIVE CRUSH on satoshi#i had a type and i have a type still. but look at my precious boy he's so PRETTY BOY#tempted to have him grow his hair out like just-- long haired satoshi oooh boy
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lmao the girlies that were upset abt ash and babe getting engaged as well must be sooo mad now that we're apparently getting a double wedding
#i personally think its cute and fun#they can stay mad abt it idc#i really hope we get a wedding before quinn comes back. i do not like the theories of him crashing the wedding or whatever#ill cry if thats what happens i swear#anyways. im so excited abt the milo bonus audio :-) vibrating with excitement#1- it was time he made a cb and 2- hes def on my top 3 of faves#my fave might be ash but idk#oooh my top 5 is ash milo geordi lasko and ollie#ALTHOUGH lately ive been rotating guy in my brain a lot idk how that happened but he could replace ollie#but yeah i definitely have a type i think its painfully obvious#redacted posting#jic
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Here's the article.
Full offense but I would never hike a mountain with my coworkers.
#*reading article*#well I know my family wouldn't ever but dear god my brother's gf would happily go on something like this and they'd totally leave her#oh and they didn't contact the authorities until much later like they tried to text him down but oh boy its going to be awkward#): I feel for rescue team cos my other hobby is listening to how shit goes wrong on youtube that actually confirms my mom's fears#search&rescue legit said No One should hike alone#even if this dude was likely thinking he's mister outdoorsman#*hops over to reddit* ok so ppl are waiting for somebody to spill on the office dynamics#oh better article#ok so they were fundraising for World Central Kitchen and it was an insurance company#his name is Steve Stephanides who works at Beazley insurance company#oooh they took his stuff that was meant to mark the correct path#o _ o#i can already hear the alternate universe YouTube video about the tragedy this was and how it could've been easily prevented#noon types in tag
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what's crazy abt being chronically ill and using marijuana consistently is thst when your tolerance goes up you have to deescalate your anxiety every time by going "it's the only tool in my toolbox" 50x until you can break through the barriers of anxiety around addiction because of your family's genetics and your fear from knowing family friends who overdosed
#oooh lore drop lore drop (if i don't joke i might cry later tonight thinking abt that guy!)#i wrote out a lot in the tags originally but man. idk.#i just hope my dad is doing alright wherever he is too. ik the type of people he gets mixed up with.#anyways this is personal so everybody be real nicies to me pls
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i think part of my obsession with Fox Mulder is i find people being good at their jobs SO ATTRACTIVE. when there's a competent, hard working guy...jesus christ
#like#oh my god#kill me already#my favorite type of guy is a competent one#i love guys who are just so smart or good at whatever job they're doing#like almost annoyingly good#like theres this guy at Target who's SO CUTE#and he's SO GOOD AT TALKING TO PEOPLE#and that makes him seem better to me#and like oooh mulder#so smart#so competent#he would never be mean abt it either??#jfc ily
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oooh so did we divorce Bruce, or is this an infidelity type of situation?
a loving family, an unpalatable desire: first meeting (unofficial)
— related post !
a/n: a tad bit nsfw. if this sounds messy, spare me. i'm running on like 4 hours of sleep and the will of a thirsty man in front of an oasis. i told yall im going insane for this plotline. ofc a&a still has my heart but I also love to occasionally write for smth else in the sidelines. send in more asks yall hehe.
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
definitely an infidelity type of situation, anon! you see, the affair was caused by all mere coincidence. you were to attend with bruce in one of lex luthor's extravagant show of a gala, hold his arm for a brief moment when you walk out of the limousine, only to be abandoned right in the middle of the enormous room.
of course, the right reaction was to be pissed, to badmouth the very man who decided to court and entertain others in front of you; but you chose to stay silent, biting back choked tears by stumbling over the buffet table, only to be met with stupid, overbearing paparazzi and journalists.
so when clark kent rushes in to save you from stuttering over the dozens of microphones and cameras shoved right in your face, granting them access to your pathetic sobs— it's only right that your first reaction was to lean against his body, dismissing the hushed, harsh gossips of journalists.
it was at a time where you're not aware of his identity of superman. well, bruce barely permits you to enter the batcave, only if you stubbornly pester alfred does he let you, only to kick you, his darling spouse right out the moment you step on the cold, hard floors of the lair.
so it's not... a bad thing, right? your husband had a child with another woman, raised him as his own, didn't even bother to notify you with his infidelity— so is it your fault if you slowly start to fall for a man who promises you the world? who actually has the ability to give you the world in the palm of your hands? whose kid lets you pamper him without any fight?
sure, he's coping with... the loss of his previous wife but you're such a perfect spouse, so undeniably attractive, captivating in the hearts of many. your distant eyes, the way you bite the inside of your cheeks, the way your body sways back and forth as if begging for someone, your husband, to provide you a pillar of support in the suffocating heat of paparazzi.
he could be that pillar, could be your support.
when he first came up to you, his intentions weren't to obtain gossip about the oh-so silent spouse of bruce wayne. he didn't even want to acknowledge your marital status, palms already taking your wrist just so he could lead you off to somewhere quieter.
"it's an interview," he whispers an excuse to your reddened ears. but the buzz of his breath, the warmth, the caged arm on your waist tells you it's more than that.
but you don't fight back, you'd rather be anywhere than be the spotlight of a media that eats you up, makes you doubt your marriage even more.
so you're grateful that someone came to your rescue.
this would be the first time you ever saw someone as a savior, and it's not superman, no. it's clark kent, your resident, widowed, journalist.
and for clark's case, you warm his bed better than anything else. you allow clark this sense of respite, a break from heroic activities. allow him to be human, just as he allows you to play your fantasies of being a house spouse; you're perfect for each other.
to hell with useless marriage papers that don't even give bruce a sense of obligation to act as your husband, right? what can it do, when you're absolutely smitten with the current life you're living?
the first stages of your infidelity with clark is confusing, but very much welcomed into your already hectic life.
firstly, you convince yourself, it was all mere 'emotional cheating'. you began texting clark, he does too. an occasional greeting in messages, a passing congratulation for something, then the next it was good morning messages, 'have you eaten breakfast yet?, 'how'd the appointment go?'.
you don't know when it started, when your feelings started, when you began an intimate to romantic relationship with the man— all you knew was that the moment he revealed his superhero identity was the moment he decided to bed you for the night, the moment you grant the man, now your partner, access to every part of your depraved body, made him make you beg for more, giving him all the time in the world to kiss your imperfections, to fondle sensitive parts long untouched, to leave lovebites deeper and darker than the ones you caught bruce with.
you can't help it, he's unknowingly handsome, especially when he invites you over to his ma and pa's farm the next day, pretending to not notice the way your eyes hungrily flit over his topless body, sweat and budding pecs encased in a muscled form. over the course of dinner, you kept biting your lips, warm cheeks at the implications that clark merely wanted to sit next to you just so he could handfeed you, something about him being prideful that you'd definitely enjoy this week's harvest... but his fingers circling your thighs just seems to get you brain all haywired.
yet you stay, and continue visiting for long hours either way, enjoying the man's attention.
you know it's wrong, he knows it's wrong. but the way his son, jon looks at you like you mean the world, the way he's slowly starting to heal the longer you stay over at his place makes clark want to... what's the word? ah, he wants to turn you into his loving trophy spouse. all you need to do is provide jon with all the support in the world.
as for bruce... well, him and his family can deal with your absence for the first few months. but when the lingering feeling of emptiness becomes too much, when bruce no longer feels the worried gazes, or when dick can't hear anymore laughter in one of the supposed 'barren' rooms, or when tim's security systems tracked a missing device, one now in a completely different city.
that's when they start to yearn for someone they purposely let go
#🌷... yael's works#🧁... yael's misc.#yandere#yandere batfam#yandere superfam#yandere batman#yandere superman#yandere clark kent#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere jon kent#yandere superboy#yandere x reader#yandere angst#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x female reader#yandere smut#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere dc#male yandere#anyways why is this post really long ermm#i swear i slept today (lie)#if i turn this into a series istg....
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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — eddie x fem reader (7.1k)
summary: 2011– your roommate drags you to a frat party and ditches the second she sees the guy she’s been fucking. left by yourself, you meet someone by accident, someone who isn’t in the fraternity
warnings: smut, underage drinking, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, dancing, eddie is trying to be cocky but he’s just awkward and silly
notes: i had a blast deep diving back into my hs and college days to reminisce with this. i hope if you were growing up during this time you can giggle along with me. love youuu oooh! also i hid some easter eggs in here (they’re not hidden at all)
The basement was steamy, and not in a ‘oh it’s a little warm in here but more like, every single person is drunk off their ass and the walls are sweating’kind of way.
College was everything you’d hoped it to be and more.
Your roommate, Kenzie was the type of girl who had an ‘open closet’ policy letting you wear her clothes almost more than your own. You weren’t too keen on sharing a dorm room with a girl you’ve never met before, but thankfully—you had gotten lucky.
You had heard the horror stories from your older sister about her terrible roommate freshman year and you worried for most of the summer that you’d strike the same type of fortune. It wasn’t until you got a friend request on Facebook and a cheery little message :
[Kenzie Walmen 2:07 PM: heyyyy roomie (;]
that you knew you had nothing to worry about.
She was from the west coast in sunny California, that bright western sky seeped deep into her personality. Kenz was sun kissed and bright haired, pretty ocean dipped eyes to give her the All-American type of aesthetic that most girls wished for. And maybe it was her laid back disposition, or her thrill for living it up and every hour of the day— that landed you here tonight at Delta Kappa Sigma.
It wasn’t your scene.
You weren’t shy or new to getting drunk, you had even been so brave to take the occasional hit from a homemade bong in your neighbors dorm a few times, but the frat parties were known for their out of control Project X style of getting shitfaced.
And something about guys with too much testosterone and too much Adidas cologne made your skin crawl and not in a good way.
“Prints always look weird on me,” you grumble into the mirror eyeing your curves in a leopard lace tank top and black skirt, “is it too much?”
Kenzie adjusts her off-the-shoulder top, adding a bit of shimmer powder to her exposed shoulder, “absolutely not, if anything it’s not enough.” Neon feathers decorate her bouncy curled hair as she eyes you in the mirror, “add that silver chunky necklace, and you’ll look bomb.”
She was right, the necklace really pulled the entire look together, and if it were Halloween weekend you could even pass as a Spice Girl or maybe Snookie.
“Sooo, is Steve gonna be there tonight?” You ask elongating the vowels in the aforementioned name, followed by some kissy faces and porn worthy moans.
Kenzie rolls her eyes, a dusting of pink warming her cheeks, “yeah… about that. He said he has a “surprise” for me when I get there, so if I disappear, I’m just with him, okay?”
“Wait wait wait—” you protest, holding a death grip clutch on a bottle of UV blue. “We aren’t even at the party yet and you’re already planning on ditching me?”
—
And that’s what got you here, a little more than drunk, holding a piss warm Green apple flavored Four Loko to your mouth, leaning against the corner basement wall in hopes to maybe disappear, wishing you were anywhere but in this cesspool of basement.
The “DJ” (a frat guy wearing neon glasses with bars across them, scrolling through an ipod and a playlist more than likely named ‘Get Crunk’) was playing Kid Cudi, again. Everyone was screaming along to the chorus like he personally wrote it for them and their experience at college. A headache was brewing behind your eyes as the beat thumped loudly into your chest and radiated to your temples.
Kenzie left almost immediately upon arriving. Swooped up and tossed over the broad shoulder of Steve the minute he answered the door. You laughed and shook your head, imagining how she was probably face down in navy cum stained sheets by now.
The hours she spent on her hair and makeup went to waste, only being seen by the dead catalog eyes of Playboy’s finest from their pinned positions on the walls of Steve’s shared bedroom.
Another sip from the overly carbonated beverage has you shuddering, the fiery ripple of fruit flavored [vomit] alcohol scouring through you like lava, causing your face to screw into a disgusted look.
How can people drink this shit?
Your bladder screams at you to break the seal, demanding to find relief, immediately. The black lights were zero help in disguising if there were any doors that might lead into a bathroom. Pushing from the wall and taking the last hot sip from your drink, you navigate your way to the stairs.
A table holding lone solo cups in formation from a forgotten beer pong game is now the proud owner of your empty can.
Weaving through the jungle of fist pumping douchelords and tipsy sorority girls making out for risqué facebook pics labeled [*~Freshman Y3ar!~*] you finally emerge from the sweaty pits of fraternity hell and climb the beer stained steps to the main floor.
The monotonous beat from the music thumped a little less loudly up here, as if the noise was absorbed by the maroon colored carpeting and the oak cabinets in the foyer.
The house was dated, decorated with a clash of orangey dark wood mixed with emeralds, dark reds and gold. As if this house was based out of Tuscany instead of midwest nowhere— complete with the rubbery fake fruit and vines that stood solely to collect dust.
You had never been here before and didn’t know where in the hell to start looking to find the bathroom, and like Alice, you figured you might as well try every door knob in this type of Wonderland.
The first door you peeked into looked like it was a formal dining room, but instead sat a television on the great oval table blasting obnoxiously loud as a pornstar moaned ripples of “pleasure” through her pink pout. Above her was an extremely tanned guy rocking a set of hard abs, thrusting in a slow rhythm that didn’t match her orgasm.
A snicker slips from your lips and you gently pull the door closed with a small click, loud whoops and whistling from what you could only assume were a couple of frat guys erupt behind the door.
Watching porn together.
You’ll have to add that to your growing list of things you didn’t know about the brotherhood behind a fraternity.
The second door looked more hopeful as it was adjacent to the kitchen area. Upon nearly peeing down your leg, you were shocked stupid when you yanked the door open to find a closet housed with cleaning supplies.
What the fuck?
How could a frat house not have a bathroom?
Your bladder squeezed in on itself and you were certain you couldn’t hold it any longer. Just short of giving up on this quest of relief and going back to your dorm, a gaggle of girls run down the steps leading to the top floor, where you could only assume the bedrooms were.
“…why are frat bathrooms always so fucking dirty?!”
Bingo.
Hustling up the never ending carpeted stairs, your bladder was on the brink of exploding as you shoved past a wooden door with a paper sign that read, “no jerking off in the shower!! pipes are clogged!”
Your sandals clapped along the sea foam tiles floors as you slipped into one of the many metal stall doors. With a swift hike of your skirt up to your middle and pull of your panties, you were finally able to pee.
A choir of angels sang the HallelujahHallelejuah chorus as you went and you sighed in relief that you had made it.
“..yeah yeah, okay asshole,” a loud voice sounded from just outside the bathroom door frame, “you still owe me from last time,” the voice now echoed as it hit against the tiles and cement block walls, “no, payment is cold hard cash buddy, I don’t care if you have to dip into your trust fund.”
A pair of black docs stomp into the tiled bathroom, nearing the stall you were in. There's no way he’ll come to this stall.
“Tell daddy that you need more money for polos or Jordan’s— I really don’t give a fuck, but you need to pay the fuck up.”
But as fate would have it…and in your hurry to get to the toilet before pissing all over yourself… and forgetting to lock the door in your haste… the stall door swings wide open— revealing a very bottomless you, to a pair of very wide dark, deer-in-the-headlight eyes.
A beat that feels like an eternity passes, his hand is choked against his belt in a yank to unthread it, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. Your hands fly to cover yourself the best you can, panties still at your ankles, skirt still around your midsection.
It’s all yells and screams with this random guy stumbling over himself dropping his phone on the ground and spewing, “Shit! Sorry! Sorry!” and you yelling for him to shut the fucking door already.
His apologies don’t stop as he pulls the door closed, and from the other side of it as you pull up your underwear and adjust your skirt.
“I swear! I didn’t think anyone was in there! I promise!”
Your face burns in embarrassment as you contemplate melting into the floor and becoming one with the poorly aimed piss stains and the dirty grout. As good as that sounds you still have to leave, you still have to pass the guy who just saw your bare vag and you still have to navigate your way out of here.
His phone lays face down on the floor, and you pray it isn’t broken for his sake. You pick it up, flipping it over to see that it scathed by with just a fine crack from one corner to another. His screen saver is a picture of a group of guys in a skatepark in the dark, smoke billowing thickly to cover their faces as they stand on the boards, the one with dark longer hair is shirtless, and painted with tattoos.
“Shit,” you breathe quietly, “your phone is cracked.”
You can see the shadows of his feet pacing back and forth but when you speak they stop, “oh..,” he mumbles, clearing his throat a bit, “umm, yeah, no biggie it was broke like that already.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah— hey, if you wanna slide that under the door I can um, let you ..ahem.. finish up in there.”
Shit. Duh he needed his phone, and you were just holding it hostage in here as your shame hung thickly in the air. God this might really couldn’t get any fucking worse.
A deep breath in through your nose, you fake a mask of confidence and open the stall door.
You hadn’t gotten a good look at him when he barged in on you, but now in the fluorescent dust covered light you dared to look a little longer at him.
Long locks of honeyed brown locks fell onto the tops of his shoulders, covered with a green plaid flannel that hung open showing his neck and a flick of dark lines from a tattoo hidden under a black band tank top. His eyes were just as brown, round and flocked with a grove of thick lashes. Clearly he was the shirtless one in his background picture.
He smiled sheepishly, pulling his jaw taunt as he averted his gaze to the toe of his boots, noticing your hand stretched out before him to give him back his phone, he glanced at your face, skimming his hand over your palm.
“Thanks— uh…” he started, shifting his weight to lean back against the many rows of sinks, “sorry again, I promise I don’t normally walk in on ladies using the facilities.”
His eyes met yours and you instantly felt a heat run to your throat, his lips were impossibly plump as he drew them into a tight smirk.
Fuck are those dimples? Of course they were. God he’s so pretty.
You smile, “normal people lock the stall, but I was in a hurry… well I was lost!” you exclaim in a huff, fully hands on hips annoyed, “why the fuck would the bathroom be on the top floor?”
You asked him incredulously like he should know. But on second thought…
“uhh… I dunno,” he shrugs, sliding his phone into the front pocket of his light wash colored jeans, not even looking at the broken screen as he leaned back again, “I’m not exactly an architect.”
“But you live here?” you question, turning on the sink to wet your hands, “haven’t they ever thought of putting even a half bath on the main floor?”
He rumbles out a laugh that makes your cheeks tingle, your buzz still in full force, “nah, you got it all wrong, I’m not a member of the ‘fraternity brotherhood of Alpha Mega Steroid’”, he jokes with air quotes, smiling wide when your lips tick up at the ends. “But I am a frequent guest, of sorts…”
This guy seemed to be one of those people who can make a nun blush, witty and dripping with a sexual charm that radiated from him like a ray of fucking sunshine. And fuck that grin of his. You’re in trouble.
“Ahh, okay,” you banter back easily, shaking your hands to dry them since there were no paper towels in sight, “which one is your boyfriend? Let’s see I know.. Kyle? I think is his name, reddish hair, kinda feminine hands, or are you fucking Steve because I gotta say, I think my roommate might be giving you a run for your money right now.”
Eddie’s eyes light up, a quirk in his brow as he asks, “Blonde girl? Kinda naive, head over heels for that mop of perfectly styled hair? Shit, what’s her name…Kelly? Kitten? She’s your roommate?”
Of course he would know her, Kenzie knows everyone, and seems to leave a kind of impression on people that you envied. As bright as she shined, you were the shadow behind her.
“Yeah,” you say, not hiding your annoyance, remembering how you got into this predicament in the first place.
Eddie looks just as pissed as you’re feeling, “Oh, Stevie boy and I will be having words later on his lack of tact. They’re the reason why I was out wondering the halls like a fuckin’ ghost in a haunted mansion.”
He takes note that you’re in the same boat he’s in but in your case, it’s a little worse, being a girl alone in a frat house never ends well.
“I’m Eddie, uhh…designated dealer,” he says in almost a whisper, “for the deep pocketed asshoels full of daddy’s money.”
You connect a few dots, realization hitting hard in your frontal lobe from conversations you’ve kind of listened to from Kenzie about Steve.
“Ahh, okay… now that you mention it, Kenz has talked about you before. You’re Steve’s old friend, Munson? I thought she meant like a forty year old or something.”
He laughs, loud and belly rolling like, “nah, minus a twenty from that. Steve and I are just close friends ‘s all… and no, not boyfriends.”
You laugh then, all bubbly and light hearted that has his own skipping beats. Saying your name, he repeats it, a little grin on his face that he tries to hide, “mm that’s cute.”
“Cute?” you question, an eyebrow raised as you fold your arms in on themselves, poking a hip out.
“Yeah… cute,” he says standing fully and peering down at you, “your name is very fitting for you.”
You roll your eyes playfully at his flirty words. Even though your stomach is somersaulting at the way his eyes seem to drip from heaven when he looks at you, your cheeks heating beneath his gaze.
“Is this the part where we exchange our hometowns and majors, because I’d rather get run over than do that right now.”
Eddie chuckles, “oh yeah, well I’m actually here on an athletic scholarship.”
“Really?” you question, eyebrows cocked in disbelief.
“Yes!” Eddie jokes back, trying to bite back a smile, “if you must know it’s for Tennis, but please don't bother me for an autograph. I'm just trying to be a normal guy tonight.”
“Noted.” You giggle, admiring the way this banter is coming so easily, maybe it was the liquid courage taking over or the fact that he was actually fun to talk to— either way, this night is starting to take a turn for the better.
“So, what does a Tennis star/designated rich boy drug dealer usually do at these kinds of things besides bursting in on girls using the bathroom?”
He smiles, dipping his chin and looking at you through those impossibly thick lashes. Pushing off the sink he asks, “Sell a little here and there, sometimes dip into my own stash…what do you usually do at these things?”
“Well,” you tease, twisting on the ball of your foot and heading towards the door out to the hallway, “I’m not usually at these things.”
“Ohh my god,” Eddie preens in his best valley girl/ Kourtney Kardashian impression, “you’ve never been to frat party!?”
You smile, at his stupid joke, “Noo, I haven’t actually. Kenzie drug me out for a little pick me up after we bombed our History midterm, to…y’know— live it up— YOLO, all that.”
“Okay okay, letting off some steam after the stress of class, I get it...school was never a cake walk for me either.”
“Yeah! But then your friend snatched her up, and since I don’t know anyone here… I was doing a very impressive wall flower guise, until my bladder interrupted that… and then a guy barged in on me in the bathroom.”
Eddie stalks towards you, his eyes roving over your body, “Well… now you know me, soo Miss Lady Wallflower,” he cracks, “shall we descend to the basement and keep this party going?”
His infectious smile stretches wide, practically ear to ear and you find yourself grinning just as wide, trying to twist your lips to at least hide your enthusiasm a little bit but goddamn— something about the way those dimples compliment the fucking christmas twinkle in his eyes.. ugh.
He was trouble. The kind you had always craved but never dabbled in. But when in Rome…
“Lead the way.”
—
Eddie had made a pit stop in the large kitchen before returning to the basement.
“Now sweetheart,” he purred, fishing around the shelves, of a pantry, moving cans of food and bags of chips, “I didn’t plan on drinking more tonight, but I’m not gonna let you drink by your— aha!”
Eddie stands upright, brandishing a large box of saltine crackers. Your eyebrows furrow in response and he bows low, puts his hand inside the box, “I present to you, Stevie’s not so secret hiding spot,” pulling out his hand, his fingers are wrapped around a bottle of Burnett’s Vodka.
Your eyes widen with devilish glee as you smirk, “how did you know it’d be there?”
Eddie unscrews the cap and puts it to his lips for a long six second pull.
You weren’t watching the way his throat bobbed and gulped when he swallowed each burning swig. Nope, not at all. You definitely weren’t memorizing each valley of cords and muscles as a single drop fell to his sharp chin and jaw. Never, not you!
And you weren’t holding your breath right along with him only breathing when those fucking glorious thick lips popped clean from the mouth of that bottle… his lips shiny from the bitter alcohol like a gloss you desperately need to lick clean. Yeah… no. that was not you…
So it’s only fitting when he speaks hoarsely and clears his throat that you are snapped back to the moment, your core keeping its own pulse.
“He’s been keeping vodka in the same box in a food pantry since we were in high school, guy is the most unoriginal bastard I know,” he shrugs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and you can’t help but almost pout in the wasted opportunity.
His eyes meet yours and they look just as hungry as you were feeling. He smirks crookedly and you practically flatline from the depth those molasses colored eyes hold. He moved first, inching towards you like a wolf stalking its prey, your pretty chapstick smile daring him to come closer.
But the fuse between you is snuffed out cold as a crying girl erupts from the basement steps, her gaggle of friends helping calm her down as they leave the house.
Eddie shakes his head and clears his throat as if he was just as bothered by you as you were of him. Turning towards the fridge he asks, “I’m sure they’ve got some Sunny D you can chase this with if that’s cool?”
—
The basement proved to be in the same situation you had left it in: hot, sweaty, sticky.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes hotly behind you, loud enough to hear him above the music, “it’s like a furnace down here, no wonder that girl was crying.”
You lead him to the corner you were tucked in before, your drink still sitting on the beer pong table. By the way he is standing you can tell that this really isn’t his scene either, but after a while of passing the vodka and orange juice back and forth between you, he seems to loosen up a bit. His shoulders relax as his back leans against the wall next to you.
Eddie’s words slurring together as his stories became more and more animated, and you giggle along, never taking your eyes off of him. Completely enamored.
Your stomach burned with a flurry of butterflies when a few of his clients came up to him to buy, each more nervous than the next. Eyeing you suspiciously, questioning if you were some sort of a narc.
Eddie stepped ahead of you, his shoulders squared and chest out to casually announce that you were cool and were with him.
You didn’t know that he was waiting for you to object to it, to shove away from him and call him a pig for even assuming that you’d ever be seen with the likes of him besides in the dark, but you never did.
Hours pass and the music just gets worse. Wiz Khalifa starts singing about colors and Eddie looks at the crowd of people grinding and rolls his eyes.
The alcohol has you feeling tingly, a buzzing of flirtation sparks your blood and you are closer to Eddie than ever, the smell of his musky cologne and laundry detergent invade you.
Like any drunk girl, you start getting antsy, a little more touchy, and a lot more feely. Standing around isn’t cutting it anymore and you want to move, toss your hair back to some cheesy song, want to feel those hands you’ve been staring at all night run along your body as your hips move against him.
Running your forefinger along the inside seam of Eddie’s flannel shirt, you look up at him through your lashes.
“I’m assuming you’re not one to dance to a club remix?”
Eddie watches your finger stroke up and down, your knuckles barely grazing his abdomen, but the small touch sending electricity to his spine.
He leans into you, following your lead and pinching the hem of your skirt between his large fingers “you’d assume correct, the music I listen to is a little more head bangy than this.”
“So,” you say coyly, pulling him towards you just a fraction more, “what you’re really saying is that you can’t dance.”
Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back, his throat sticky with sweat and the hair by his ears wet and curling into ringlets, “oh I can dance my ass off honey, taught Channing Tatum everything he knows.”
His hands find your hips, and you almost lose the little bit of confidence you have gained when the warmth of them seeps through your shirt, his blunt nails skimming your skin in small strokes.
“Do these little white lies masked as dorky ass pickup lines work for you?” Your hands are on his chest now, the black light illuminating each letter of his Deftones shirt to sparkle like snow beneath your fingers.
“I don’t know,” he whispers into your ear, pulling you tight against him so your chest is pressed into his, “you tell me.”
The music changes and a throwback song
comes on, one you haven’t heard in years.
“Guess you’ll have to show me those moves, because in typical drunk girl fashion… this is my song!”
You grab Eddie’s hand and stomp to the middle of the floor, pulling him along with you until you’re shoulder to shoulder with other drunk and sweaty college kids.
“Get low?” Eddie asks from behind you, his mouth dangerously close to the shell of your ear as his hands land heavy on your hips, “seriously?”
Leaning your head back so your lips could reach him you talk loud enough just so he can hear you, “stop talking and fucking dance with me already.”
“Goddamn…” he groans when you finally push your body fully back into him.
It’s sloppy and horribly uncoordinated the way your drunken hips move beneath his hands. You’re both swaying along with the music, trying like hell to match the rhythm of everyone else around you. But in the tiny square footage you have in this cluster fuck of a space, Eddie has all the right moves.
His palms are pressing you tighter into him, making sure you can feel just how hard he is, how hard you are making him.
Courage and a few prom night dances under your belt have you dropping low and coming up slow, your skirt fanning out the tiniest bit as your knees are bent to the ground.
And Eddie is practically thanking God himself when you run the fattest part of your ass up his body, on the bunched denim by his shins, skimming the barely there fabric of your skirt against the hole in his knee, and finally up where he desperately needs your body the most.
When you come back up he moves your hair from the side of your neck, his lips puckering around your earlobe as he nibbles lightly, “spin around so I can see you.”
He groans again when you shake your head and laugh at his dismay, as much as he is turned on and bothered you are too, but the power of keeping him like this, teasing him with your body— turned you on even more.
You snake your hands upwards seductively, landing daintily at the nape of his neck, twirling the wet tendrils of curls round and round pulling gently. Eddie hisses through his teeth, his hands roaming freely from your hips to your ribcage running them along the length of your sides, bruisingly hard.
One minute you’re facing away from him, eyes closed in pleasure as he roves over your body, his lips pressed to your neck, and in the next he’s spinning you around so that you’re face to face— eyes locked on eachother, the heat and the alcohol and the endorphins are too much to handle.
Your once labored breathing snuffs out to nothing when he leans in with licked lips his eyes fixated on your mouth. Standing. Staring. Staring and standing. You’ve had enough of this cat and mouse game.
“Fucking kiss me alrea—”
His mouth with its plush pillow lips slam into you. He tastes like tart orange juice and a bite of alcohol. Like the way a summer day would taste if it were bottled up. He licks into your mouth and you whine for more of him, clutching onto his neck and pulling him further into you.
When you break for air it’s loud, smacking lips and lapping tongues, tilting your heads to line up perfectly. When you twist yours again, Eddie holds onto your neck angling it just so with a glint of trouble in those whiskey eyes as he dives into the supple skin at the column of your throat.
Sucking, swirling— his tongue is hot against you and you’re clutching onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the pilling fabric like he was the only thing keeping you Earthbound.
You wiggle in his arms, squealing and whining out but he’s holding you tightly against him, moaning words into your neck that you can’t hear above the music. Then he’s on your mouth again, working you into a fit. His big veiny hands move along your back, grabbing your ass softly, then work up to wrap in your hair or lightly scratch at the inch of skin between your skirt and your tank top.
Doing your own little damage to him, his shirt is shoved up over his chest, your fingernails trailing down his tattooed skin. A rise of goosebumps following in their tracks, and he stops kissing you to suck in a breath, your smile on his lips as you laugh and he whispers a breathy ‘fuuuuck’.
Your fingers trail down to his waist band, tickling his skin as you suggest an idea with your eyes, one that you’re certain he would understand.
“C’mon,” he mouths, gesturing his chin to the exit as he slowly begins to pull you from the dance floor, up the stairs and into the kitchen area.
Eddie knew what he wanted. Knew it the second you walked out of that stall with that sweet fucking smile on your lips, shy and coy when he called your name cute, like you weren’t at all used to the type of attention he was giving.
And maybe you didn’t want this with him. Maybe you were a: ‘fuck-me-in-the-dark-so-I-won’t-be-embarrassed-by-being-seen-with-you’ type of girl, but you did dance with him, you laughed at his stupid jokes, stuck by him almost all night, but still he needed to be sure.
He thought maybe in the brighter light you’d change your mind about what you wanted, what you needed from him, but you surprise him when you cling to his side, going up the steps, and backing into a wall pulling him with you by his shirt needily when you reach the top.
“D’ you uh..wanna get outta here?” he slurs, almost sleepily, his bangs fucked up beyond belief, his hair drenched and sticky with sweat and humidity, lips swollen red.
“My dorm isn’t far,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes running your finger along the waist of his jeans, “across campus.”
Eddie chuckles, “fuck…” he sweeps a thumb over your pouted lips, groaning as he bites his own. “I’d crawl to fuckin’ Alaska for these, honey.”
Your cheeks burn sweetly from his inebriated compliments. And even though you’re tipsy and so is he, you feel an odd sort of comfort with him—one you haven’t experienced before.
“Let’s go then,” you whisper into his ear, “I want you inside me.”
That did it for him.
Eddie was all but running with you across the campus green, but not before taking off his long sleeved shirt and placing it over your shoulders murmuring how it was freezing and you’d probably get sick.
Your combined laughter ricocheted off concrete forums and neatly trimmed grass. Passing by the fancy Chemistry Lab building, the Art Museum, the Med School and finally to your painted black brick dorm building: “Wheeler Hall”
“Here’s home,” you sing out, placing your key into the door and pulling on the steel handle.
The Wheeler Dorms were the newest addition to the college town. Named after a family that was killed in an accident back in the 80’s or something… you didn’t really remember what happened.
The side door you had come in through was closest to your room, 011, on the first floor, again, the universe being kind to you.
“Never been here before,” Eddie said looking around with wide eyes, “any of the dorms actually.”
You smiled upon unlocking your room and entering, hanging up your keys on the command strip hooks by the door. Whatever confidence he had back at the party is now deflated a bit once he realizes just how different the two of you are. What the hell was he doing here? You’re in college, he’s only here because he deals.
“Uhh..?” he questions, eyeing the lofted bed, “you know I was joking about being an athlete, right?”
You giggle and toss your purse onto the futon, “relax, that’s Kenzie’s bed, mine is the shorter one.”
“Oh thank fuck,” he practically sings letting out an over exaggerated sigh as he plops down on your futon, eyeing the leopard throw blanket, “I may look like a suave Casanova but I’m about as agile as Mr. Bean.”
Laughter fills the room and you click on a lamp throwing the room into a cozy ambience as you slip off your sandals and sit on your bed, leaning forward, “you’re way hotter than him.”
Eddie blushes a bubble gum pink sheen, using his still damp and unruly hair to cover his face, “keep being sweet on me see where it gets you.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat, or a promise?”
“Oh baby, I don’t make threats, not to a girl that’s like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah you,” he deadpans, standing up and waltzing towards your bed, crowding you in, “funny, sexy, and by some greater power— digs me… at least I hope.”
“I’m not the type of girl to bring a guy back to my place, Eddie,” you nearly whisper, putting a finger into his dangling necklace and pulling him forward, “you’d be the first.”
Eddie places his hands next you on the bed, “like your first? Or just here in college first, I’m cool with either I just— are you sure you want this? I can leave if y—”
Cutting him off you kiss him, but not like the heavy kisses earlier when you two were making out like you were each other's oxygen masks, this one is sweet, like melted sugar on Eddie’s tongue.
“You talk too much,” you say with a warm smile, wrapping a finger around his curled ends of hair, “no more of that, just kiss me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and shifts you up further into the bed, laying your head on a pillow his body pressed into yours. He takes his time with you, kissing your lips then your jaw, working his way down your neck to where the bruises he’s already sucked into your skin were painted.
Your moans and little breathy sighs have him hard against his zipper, his hips bucking into the tiny fabric of your panties that’s covering up that sweet pussy he got a glimpse of earlier.
His shirt is somewhere on the floor, you had pried it off of him between locked lips and groans of having to move your lips from his that earned you a throaty laugh from him and the sexiest eyes that drove into you with an intense ferocity.
He lowers further down your body, kissing every inch, moving your tank top out of the way to eye your orange bra, his mouth between your cleavage, moaning about how orange is now his favorite color.
Eddie’s everywhere all at once, a hand traveling up and down your thigh, from the crux of your knee to the waistband of your skirt, the other hand is popping your tits out from that new found favorite colored bra of his —smiling wickedly at your peaked nipples.
You moan lustful bliss as his tongue circles each one, giving equal attention to both, “you like that?” he asks.
“Feels so good,” you whine, “more, please.”
Eddie smirks with your nipple between his teeth, “don’t have to ask me twice.”
You weren’t a virgin, but holy shit you felt as if you had never had sex before, well never sex like this. Eddie teased you with his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers pumped inside of you, each curling inward towards a place nobody has reached before.
He groaned with his bottom lip tucked between his sharp bite rubbing his achy cock through his jeans when you pushed your skirt down laying there in a matching orange lacey thong, bedazzled on the hips.
“Would it be corny if I say you look like a Goddess?” he asks sheepishly, pinching the stretching fabric around your hips, “because… wow.”
You bite your finger as if you were really thinking hard on this, hiding a smile, “you’re too much, Munson.”
“Too much?” he scoffs, pulling down your panties and settling himself between your legs, “you haven’t even seen my dick yet.”
You sit up, tits out and naked from the waist down, “well by all means, show me.”
“Greedy girl,” Eddie smirks, “did you bring me here just to get me naked? I’m appalled!”
You move to your knees, sitting upright a bit so your face is level with his. You kiss him softly, moving to his neck and sucking just right to pull those deep moans from him that make your knees shake.
Feather light touches skate along the expanse of his chest, working down down down until you’re undoing his belt, thumbing open the button on his jeans and yanking down his zipper.
When your hand slides between him and his boxer briefs, Eddie hisses, watching you pump him slow and tight. The feel of your smooth palm against his velvety shaft makes him almost cum right there and then, it’s been awhile since the last time.
But you’re not hesitating or questioning yourself and he isn’t either. It’s almost fluid like a rocking wave the way Eddie lays you down, a team effort to swiftly shove down his jeans so you can finally feel eachother where the desperation is needed most.
Legs hiked over his hips, he lines himself up with your gummy slicked entrance. It’s a deep and achy stretch for you, a vice grip for him. The lazy gasping moans you both emit are drawn out, yours practically breathless.
“Holy fuck,” you breath into his mouth as he peppers you with kisses. He drags his hips out at a measured pace, pushing in just as unhurriedly, enjoying the way your body adjusts, cuffing him like a glove.
Eddie breaks away from your lips to watch your bodies join together, moaning your name as he presses his forehead on yours collecting your mouth with his.
“Shit…This okay?” he asks earnestly, nipping at your ear.
You nod in gasping silence, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he speeds up. Your hands are skimming down his bareback, pressing him further into you with every thrust, begging him for more.
He snakes a hand between you, rubbing circles in your puffy clit as he thrusts harder, trying to get you there before he loses all control. “Want you to feel good sweetheart, fuck— keep making those pretty little noises, you’re squeezin’ the hell outta me.”
And he does. You cum hard around him, your walls fluttering and pulsing so fast you practically black out from the mixed pleasure of his fingers rubbing your clit and his cock stuffed in deep.
His name falls from your lips in tiny little whines and he bucks into you a hard and final time before he groans, holding onto your headboard for support as he’s bottoming out, stringing rope after rope of hot spend inside of you.
“Baby,” he whispers, “God—” he stops cold, realizing what he just did and what he didn’t do. “Oh shit, fuck fuck fuck! I didn’t pull out, I'm sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!
You laugh wickedly, your body shaking beneath him at his worried panicked face.
He’s a babbling, out-of-breath mess, “’s not funny! I just got caught up in the moment and you felt so fucking good and I’m still a little dru—”
“Eddie, it’s fine,” you say, holding his cheeks with both hands squishing them together so his lips pucker like a fish, “I’m on the pill.”
His face is still squished together when he speaks, “oh, well… okay.”
“You’re fine,” you coo, coaxing him down from the ledge of regret and self hatred, “I—” you lean up and kiss him square on the mouth, licking into it and sliding your tongue against his, “I liked it.”
His eyebrows disappear into his bangs and before he can open his mouth to speak you’re pulling him onto you kissing him deep and needy.
The two of you end the night that way, him holding you, your hands in his hair, kissing so much your lips are chapped— never getting enough. Legs entangled together like a weaved basket. You fall asleep before he does, your little huffed breathing making his skin damp as you curl further into his chest.
Wonder if Verizon is open tomorrow? He thinks when he remembers that his phone is definitely broke from it landing on the bathroom floor—but he’d never tell you that.
He also wouldn’t tell you how he was supposed to go back to Steve’s tonight because they were leaving to see another old friend in California for the weekend— or how they needed to be at the airport by 2 AM for a 4 AM flight. — or that Eddie was Steve’s ride because he lost his license in July.
Nope.
He wouldn’t tell you any of it. None of that seemed to matter when you were sleeping so cute on his chest like that.
When late morning comes you’re at it again, this time you’re riding him on the futon, slow like a twangy country song his hands rocking your hips. When you both finish you drag him to the showers, pumping some expensive shampoo into his hair and giggling when you tell him to be quiet so you won’t get caught.
Steve called Eddie’s phone all night, and all morning, sending duplicate texts of rage, wondering where the fuck he had gone.
Eddie silences the last call from Steve as you’re getting dressed, wearing a black pair of yoga pants and a zip up hoodie. He smiles when you offer to comb his hair, grabbing your wrist to pull you onto his lap kissing behind your ear.
His voice is low, soothingly sweet and minty from your toothpaste as he asks, “can I take you to breakfast?”
#Spotify#eddie x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x you smut#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you fanfic#eddie fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you
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a-yo there, Claudette! how ya' doin'? could I ask a request with the overblot gang like this: they are flirting with reader, in some case is more boldly, another is smoothly or a 'smart'/well thought out flirt, (because i'm SURE that leona and vil don't flirt the same, or blue and idia, for example). reader blushes a lot and looks away. after a second of silence, reader flirts back just as smoothly, slyly or boldly. how do the 7 primors react? 💗💗
thanks in advance! take care<3
oooh- yes, of course!! I had fun with this. it also occurs to me how bad most of them would be at flirting...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the boys do a flirt
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
anyone here familiar with Victorian courting rules?
well, Riddle is
he is alllll about etiquette
literally "no hand holding before marriage"
the boldest he gets is with... flowers
for what he can't say or do outright, he can convey in floriography
daisies for loyalty, pink camellia for longing...
if he's feeling bold, he may add a lavender sprig or two
now, imagine his surprise when you send him a red orchid...
his face blushes the same color as the flower and he gets all giggly
going around Heartslabyul, saying he's got to send you a red rose back
...as if anyone knows what that means
(everyone in his dorm thinks you're both crazy)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona is the god of avoidance
he would rather crawl on his hands and knees through sewage than be honest with himself about his feelings
so, what does he do when he knows he's falling for you?
bullies you
like, lovingly
it's just easy for him to banter and push you around
he will call you short no matter what your height is, let himself into your room to sleep on your bed and make direct eye contact with you while he knocks your things off your desk
like... petty cat behavior
he was not anticipating you to reciprocate
man, you have a mouth on you
the things you say... color him impressed
honestly, he likes you even more than before
...which now makes avoiding his feelings impossible... crap
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
unfortunately I think Azul's best attempt at flirting is staring at you across a crowded room
he's a flatterer by default, but, like, he actually likes you
he knows how to get someone into a contract, but not how to ask you out on a date
funny, right?
well, not for him
it takes all of his courage just to say you look nice
Sevens, what is wrong with him?
you make him feel like an utter fool... so, of course, he has to compensate
now, when he's around you, he becomes smarter, more interesting, and about three times as pretentious
to impress you. obviously
then you match his energy and he's right back to square one
who knew he could get so easily flustered?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil doesn't "flirt"
...at least, that's what he tells himself
before you, he'd simply never had a reason to. now...
how hard can it be, right?
and, well, he's not half-bad at it
Jamil knows how to keep his cool, and flattery is his second language
and he gets a chance to show off a little...
perfect, right?
well...
he can never seem to surprise you
every hint he tries, every subtle compliment and little smirk, you have something equally as crafty
...not what he had in mind, but, hey
the psychological warfare makes flirting much more interesting
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is, perhaps, the only person here who actually knows what he's doing
not that he's used to flirting
he just... knows how to talk to people
he's always quite subtle about it
forward advances are tasteless, if you'd ask him
he tends to flirt in subtle, but meaningful ways
that is, he makes his intentions known through touch
nothing aggressive, of course
a gentle squeeze of your shoulder, a brush of his hand against yours, an arm around your waist...
just enough to fluster you (which he so enjoys doing)
imagine his surprise, then, when you start touching him back
wordlessly holding his hand, sitting close enough to him to feel your shoulder against his...
he'll admit, he admires your boldness
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
the only "you" that Idia is flirting with is a chat bot he programmed to talk like you
I mean WHAT who said that
he DEFINITELY does not have that. haha... that'd be like, super creepy...
on that note, he also definitely DOES NOT obsessively study your words and mannerisms to better understand you
...well...
listen, he just doesn't know how to approach you!
you're so... you! and he's so... him
so, he'd much rather watch your every move and fantasize about being able to actually... talk to you...
he is, understandably, terrified when you approach him
...even more so when you seem to know about him and all his interests...
???
...you know what? he's not even going to think about it
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Malleus can be a little... old-fashioned
and by that I mean Briar Valley old-fashioned
he was taught how to court by Lilia, of all people, so you know whatever he's doing is...
...strange
and he's somewhat aware of it, too
he just thinks it'd be even stranger for him to flirt with you like...
well... you get it
everyone else
he is, however, pleasantly surprised when you seem to know what he's doing
you've been reading up on Briar Valley customs, and recognized his courting rituals pretty much right away
...not that you're going to tell him that
reciprocating his flirtations is more fun when he doesn't see it coming
he makes that one surprised face every time
like this -> o_o
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#queued#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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Come And See Me
Summary: “sexually reserved men are THE best. Well behaved, won’t steal a kiss, won’t touch you inappropriately but boy if you give them consent? FINISHED…”
Terry Richmond isn’t the type of man Summer is used to. He’s the strong, silent type. A lot of discipline and control. She’s used to men falling to their knees in an instant. Hardly any dirty talk. But it does feel good to get to know someone on a deeper level for a change. He promises he’d come see her, but Summer didn’t take his word for it. That was, until he walked into that strip club one evening to surprise her with…
“Flowers?”
Summer was in the middle of a routine that earned her bandz at an unimaginable level. She climbed that pole, showed off her acrobatic skills, flexed that body and popped that ass so good she had ‘em lost for words. Speechless.
Terry Richmond walked in with a bouquet of flowers, dressed in khakis, a Curaçao soccer shirt, and white Air Forces. His hair was styled in a tapered cut with a curly fro. In his large, veiny hand, Terry gripped her red roses tightly, walking through until he made it to a section he’d reserved directly in front of the stage. He wanted an up close and personal view of Summer. He didn’t plan to take his aurora gray eyes off of her.
His captivating eyes created a path of seduction across her glistening skin that glittered beneath the strobe lights. Drink in his other hand, he took small sips, licking his lips nice and slow. Terry held the faintest smirk on his lips, body composed, but his heart was racing. His print left little to the imagination. Low grunts fell on deaf ears. Summer hit a split and made her hefty cheeks bounce. That body on her deserved big dick. It was built for big dick. Terry couldn’t wait. It’s been too long. Suddenly, as if she could sense him, Summer glanced over her shoulder and that’s when she realized Terry had shown up.
For a second, she’d forgotten where she was. His presence stunned her. Summer turned her body on the floor of the stage, money sticking to her tacky skin. Their eyes locked on for a while. Oooh, she was speechless. Summer started grinding her crotch towards him, rolling her hips and biting her lip. Terry’s piercing gaze was fixated on her face the entire time. Not once did he look down. It was so intense, her clit pulsated.
Drankin’ and Smokin’ came on and Summer lifted her shapely body into a squat, slowly and teasingly removing her bikini top. At this point, she was putting on a show for Terry and Terry only. Her Marine. She’d had his name saved under Mr. Marine in her phone. The hot pink top fell to the stage, bountiful titties with pierced nipples saluted. Terry dropped his beautiful eyes down to stare at her round, fat titties.
We drink up and we smoke, but she always do the most
It kinda turns me on the way she lickin' on my stones
My chains on antifreeze, it look like I made a clone
Wanna see you get more sassy, if it bring out better emotions
She called me her God, the way I floated in her ocean…
Summer needed him. So bad. That fine ass man. Seeing him in person…seeing the man behind that deep baritone. She rushed off that stage in an instant as soon as the music faded out. Breathing uneven, she walked off in her seven-inch pleasers, looking back at Terry, mind replaying all their conversations late at night…
(one of their many phone conversations)
“Hey baby…I wish you could see what I have on right now…You so sexy, imagine how…Intense it would be…To hold me right now…Our song's playin’…”
Body wrapped in her faux fur, black blanket, head resting against her black satin pillows, Summer held her cellphone to her ear with one hand, the other caressing her tawny skin. Terry made a sound that vibrated her core.
“Summer rain…when I listen to that, you know I think about you, right? Mmm…I bet you look so good in my T-shirt.”
“You’re so far, and I’m all alone in my bed…”
Summer was wearing an old, baggy T-shirt; Terry’s Marine Corps T-shirt. The fabric of it against her body with his voice in her ear gave her butterflies.
I can still hear your baritone
In my ear telling me you'll take it slow
And I was in the mirror playing wrong
Like you were here, I couldn't turn me on
So I fell asleep with the music on
Woke up again hearing the same old song, playing…
Summer paced her bedroom, stopping in front of her window, gazing out into the rainy evening, pressed to the glass, and laughing at Terry and his corny jokes. Her brown eyes followed the path of the raindrops, the sudden recollection of her own essence dripping. All he did was make her laugh, spew facts about things she’d never heard of, and say over and over again how beautiful she is. He didn’t judge her. She felt safe with Terry and she hadn’t even met him in person yet. Thoughts of how gentle and kind and thoughtful he is makes her play in her pussy every night.
“Patience, baby…When I get to you, you’re all mine…”
She shut her lids and pictured him, standing at his towering height, bending over to kiss along her neck and wrap those big arms around her waist. Now, her body is shaking to the fantasies.
“Don’t take it easy on me, Terry. I need you here…”
Summer turned, pressing her back against the window, bringing the collar of his T-shirt to her nose and taking a whiff. Mmmm…it smelled just like his cologne. Vanilla and Sandalwood.
“You’ll be begging me to take it easy on you, baby…”
——
“Summer.”
Terry stood up and approached her. She was wearing a form-fitting black dress with her belongings. Her long, jet-black, silk pressed hair was pinned up with a claw clip. Summer gave Terry a bashful smile. She couldn’t contain the butterflies in her belly. Terry handed her the roses.
“Thank you,” Summer smelled them, “they’re beautiful…I can’t believe it’s really you…”
She knew Terry was tall, but DAMN. She had to crane her neck just to look up at him. And his eyes…Summer found herself getting lost in them.
“You’re so much more beautiful in person. That performance…damn…”
Summer tucked her chin, unable to contain her blushing. Terry startled Summer when he lifted her chin for her to look at him. Her breath hitched.
“Up here…”
“Okay…”
“You did amazing up there. I’m glad I got to see it in person…” Terry whispered with a low, resonant voice.
“Thank you, Terry. Me too.”
“Should we get outta here? I’m kinda anxious right now to have you all to myself…”
Summer chuckled softly, body vibrating with lust. Terry wouldn’t stop admiring her. It was so intense, Summer shyly smiled and dropped her head. What was it about this man that had her acting all giddy and nervous?
“C’mon,” Terry held his hand out for Summer to grasp.
Thighs clenching, Summer accepted Terry’s hand and when she placed her hand in his, Summer almost whimpered. His entire hand swallowed hers. Warm and strong. Fuck. Summer allowed Terry to guide her out of the strip club. When they’d finally made it to the door, Terry placed his hand on the small of her back, holding the door opened for her.
“Did you drive here?” Terry questioned.
“I did,” Summer pointed to her blue lexus, “This is me.”
“I’ll follow you out if that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay!” Summer responded excitedly.
Terry laughed before opening her door for her when she unlocked it. He helped Summer inside and then he took her things to put them in the back seat. Terry stood at the opening of her driver’s side door, looking down at her with a smirk and soft eyes.
“I’ll be right behind you, baby girl.”
“Okay, Terry…”
She watched as he leaned into her car, her body tensing up. Terry grabbed her hand and pecked it gently to tease, then came that deep chuckle she loved so much. It took her a moment to gather herself. It was the faintest of kisses but the feel of his generous lips against flesh sent sparks throughout her body. The hairs on her arms stood up and her pussy did that pitter-patter thing.
“Drive safe.”
He shut her door and flashed her a quick smile before jogging over to his truck—an all black GMC Sierra 2500HD Denali. Summer started the ignition, licking her lips to . Cocoa butter. She pulled out of the parking lot and checked to see if Terry was following her. When the coast was clear, she drove off with shaky hands and a flutter in her belly.
——
Summer stayed in a nice cul-de-sac home with a two car garage. She’d made enough money as an exotic dancer to purchase a home and move out of her apartment. She hopped out of her car and Terry pulled in closer as soon as she shut the garage. He quickly exited his car and grabbed her duffel bag so she could open the door.
Terry was finally going to see her home. After talking for months and wondering if he would ever come to see her, she didn’t have to doubt him anymore. Summer opened the front door and turned on the lights. The home had a futuristic feel to it that Summer loved. Terry took off his shoes and socks so he wouldn’t ruin her good carpet. While Summer got settled, he did some exploring of the first level.
Biomorphic curves, gravity-defying elements, sleek materials and bold angles. It looked like something dreamed up by Hollywood. Even the staircase leading up to her room with its modern glass rails completed the design. Summer returned with her flowers, giving Terry a megawatt smile filled with dimples and glossy lips. He followed her into her kitchen and watched her place her roses in a vase.
“This is nice, baby,” Terry took in his scenery of sleek stainless steel and marble, “So, this where you cook up them smothered pork chops, collard greens, and red beans and rice, huh?”
Summer giggles, “You know it. This is my favorite place to be. Would you like some wine?”
“I’ll take some, thank you,” Terry placed his arms behind his back as he stood near the kitchen island.
Summer handed him a glass and Terry accepted it with a slight tilt of his head and a penetrating gaze. They toasted each other before taking a sip of the white wine. The silence was palpable. They were both so thrilled to be in each other’s presence that words were lost on their tongues. Terry broke the silence with a nervous chuckle. He gently placed his now empty glass on the kitchen island before walking with slow, purposeful strides to reach Summer on the other side.
Summer had a firm grip on her wine glass, brown eyes ascending his tall frame to reach his gorgeous face. The pictures of him told her that Terry is a rare sight. A man this handsome is hard to come by. To view him in person; skin-to-skin, breath-to-breath, eye-to-eye, Summer had never seen a man so beautiful. Terry reached out to remove the glass from her hand and he sat it down on the counter top.
“Miss. Summer. I’ve been waitin’ a long time for this moment…and I know that I’ve made promises to come see you…that haven’t been fulfilled…and I’m sure you’ve had your doubts…”
“I have, I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. But you’re here now,” Summer exhaled slowly, “I don’t have to fantasize about what it would be like to have you next to me in my bed anymore…”
When you're not here
(I sleep in your t-shirt)
I wish you were here
(To take off your t-shirt)
After we make love
(I sleep in your t-shirt)
Wake up in your t-shirt
I smell the scent of your cologne…
“I don’t have to wish anymore,” Summer blinked up at Terry as she reached out her hand to stroke his arm that’s two sizes bigger than hers and covered in veins, “Or wonder if we could be something…”
“Hey,” Terry drew in closer his voice lowering a register, “We are something, baby. I need to get that doubt out your head…may I?”
Terry opened his arms and Summer gave her consent with a nod of her head before his arms hugged her tight. Summer pressed her cheek centimeters below his chest. He’s so big and warm. Body beneath his T-shirt unyielding. Terry’s hands began to explore. One hand threaded into her hair, massaging her scalp through her silky, thick tresses, the other glided up and down her back soothingly. Summer couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged like this by a man if not ever.
“I wanna explain what held me up a while…I had some legal issues in Shelby Springs…my cousin got mixed up in some mess and I went to bail him out but…he died.”
“The cousin you told me about? Are you serious?”
Summer rested her chin against Terry’s chest as she looked up at him with saddened eyes. He looked back at her, so much emotion swirling in those blue-gray orbs with flecks of gold and brown, as if they are forever changing.
“Yeah,” Terry’s shoulders slumped, “It’s a lot…still gotta clear my name…lawyer up…I’m sorry I’m dumping all this shit on you right now—”
“Don’t be, Terry, don’t be,” Summer caressed Terry’s cheek, “That’s a lot. I’m so sorry…I can’t imagine…”
Summer squeezed Terry and he reciprocated. She felt her body being lifted from the floor and her arms wrapped around his neck.
“I’m so sorry about your cousin.” Summer said.
“Thank you, ‘ppreciate that…you’re so precious…”
Summer smiled fondly at Terry, “You’re such a good man, Terry Richmond.”
He loved that she said that. It made him smile handsomely down at her. She wanted to continue putting a smile on his face.
“You’re my safe space, Summer…”
She shut her eyes to avoid the onslaught of tears. It’s only been months that they’ve been talking. She’s his safe space?
“Terry…”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes—”
Terry hooked his hands beneath Summer’s ass and hiked her up so her thighs could circle his cut waistline. One hand cradled the back of her neck while the other secured her waist snugly against him.
Summer felt her heart race. The air was thick with the creamy, warm, and earthy scent of his cologne, and the distant sound of her heartbeat faded into the background. A mix of security and excitement reflected in their depths.
With a tentative smile, Terry brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. The hand against her waist gave a gentle squeeze that spoke volumes. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling.
When their lips finally met, it was soft and hesitant at first, testing the waters. But as the kiss deepened, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their connection and the thrill of a moment long awaited. Their tongues danced a slippery recital, lip’s cushiony, teeth grazing.
He’d ached to taste her. To taste a woman after so long. Summer’s daydreaming didn’t prepare her for the reality in front of her. Terry’s long legs began to guide them into Summer’s living room and towards her couch. He pulled away so that he could place her on her back. Summer’s dress had ridden up her shapely thighs revealing smooth, tawny skin. Terry knelt one leg between her thighs before lowering over her. Summer lifted to kiss him again, but Terry stopped her with a single finger to her lips.
“…It’s been way too long for me, baby girl. Seeing you dance tonight…doing your thing up there…it took a lot of work not to walk up on that stage and put this dick in you.”
Summer’s breath hitched.
“I’ve painted a picture in my mind many times of what that body looked like…” Terry’s eyes dropped down to the tops of Summer’s breasts, “I don’t think I ever told you I’m a breast man…and you got a pair that I just wanna…”
He pressed his face into her neck and inhaled. Summer drew her bottom lip into her mouth to control the incessant trembling. He’d never talked this dirty to her.
“…I just wanna suck and lick and nibble all over these titties…”
She could feel her nipples hardening from his words alone. Hearing it in person and so close to her ears had a greater effect. Summer was squirming. Her pussy leaked so much that it became unbearable to even wear panties around him. She’d have to walk around with an exposed pussy to cool off.
“I can suck these titties all night…sleep with a titty in my mouth…play with your nipples until you’re squirming…flick your nipples with my tongue…you got some thick nipples too, baby…mmmh…”
That long, drawn out groan into her neck had her whimpering. This man had her weak. Summer raked her nails down his chest before twisting the fabric of his T-shirt into her fist.
“Here, please,” Summer thrust her chest into him, “Daddy, please…”
“I love the way you beg, baby girl…” Terry kissed down her neck, “you’ll be doin’ a lot of that shit tonight. Beg for me to suck on that pussy…beg for me to fit this dick in you nice and good…”
“Terry…”
His malleable lips created a tickling sensation until he reached her breasts. Summer watched with desperation as his lips covered the fleshy hills in a repeated motion. She was mewling. Nipples so hard. He started kissing around each nipple through her dress. Summer clawed the suede sofa.
“Daddy…”
She was shivering.
“Want more? Where you want it? Talk to me…”
She was able to control the quiver of her lower lip to speak, “Please suck on my nipples…I can’t take it.”
“Nahhh, you gotta beg harder than that…”
Summer moaned softly, “uhnnnnnn…” when he used his teeth to nibble on her nipples, “Daddy, I want you to suck my nipples. Do whatever you want to my titties…please, please, please….”
Terry peered up at Summer with those hypnotic eyes.
“Good girl…that’s how you ask for what you want…”
With one hand, Terry’s eyes remained fixated on Summer’s face, he lowered the top of her strapless, body-con dress, one beautiful, round, breast coming into view. Skin like honey, nipples and areolas a deep brown. Busty and asymmetrical. Perfectly imperfect. Her bejeweled nipple pebbled and Terry’s lips parted.
“Shit, you just don’t know…”
He revealed the other breast and it jiggled a little upon its release.
“So fuckin’ beautiful…”
He blew air onto her nipples. Summer arched her back. Terry used that opportunity to slither his hands beneath her to keep her chest elevated so he could attack each big titty the way he wanted. Hair in her face, glossy lips slightly open, soft moans flowing from her mouth, Summer looked pleasantly horny.
Terry started off with flicking her nipples back and forth. His pink tongue is warm and wet. When his lips drew her left nipple into her mouth first, Summer cried out. Her thighs gripped his waist, and Terry couldn’t wait to feel those soft thighs do the same thing to his head.
“Ah, mmm, unhhhh, yesss…you like these fat titties, daddy?”
“Mhm,” Terry was in the zone sucking back and forth.
She could tell he was a titty man alright. He rubbed his face in it, dragged his teeth down her breast bone, used his big, strong, veiny hands to push her breast together so he could trace his tongue back and forth.
“I’m a need you to do that on this pussy!”
Terry released a laugh, burying his face between her breasts. Summer was hot all over and close to tackling this man!
“More wine first,” Terry rest his cheek against one of her breasts as he looked up at her, “So soft…the best pillow…”
Summer exhaled impatiently, “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Good.”
Terry kissed her breasts one last time before covering her back up, “Are you okay with me getting the wine? While you put on some music?”
Summer wasn’t prepared for the visual. Terry stood up and as he was fixing his shirt that had lifted up, she focused on those abs, the strip of hair leading down to his crotch, and the deep v-cut. The lower her eyes went, the more she had to stop herself from dropping to her knees. A very vivid and distinct outline of his third leg sat along his thigh like a python beneath a sheet waiting to strike. He was on brick.
“It’ll be all yours tonight…”
Their eyes met with equal desire.
“I’ll go grab that wine…bathroom?”
“Uh…d–down the hall and t–to your right.”
Terry chuckled, “I’ll be back.”
He disappeared and Summer let out a long exhale. She walked over to her Bluetooth sound system and knew exactly what she wanted to listen to.
——
Summer dimmed the lights with her cell phone and after five minutes, Terry returned with their glasses and a bottle.
Storming outside, rain
She keeps me home
Quiet conversation makes me warm
So
Summer rain
Whispers me to sleep
And wakes me up again
Sometimes i swear i hear her call my name…
Terry smiled at her. Summer pat the sofa cushion next to her enthusiastically. He handed her a glass and plopped down, throwing an arm over her shoulder. His finger tips caressed her arm as they sang along to summer rain
“So go ahead and make it rain…you bring the sunshine back again…”
“Okay vocals!” Summer teased.
Terry threw his head back and laughed, “Stop.”
“I’m just teasing, daddy,” Summer snuggled closer, “More wine, please…”
“Anything for you,” Terry leaned forward to retrieve the bottle.
Summer rain started playing again.
They emptied the bottle of wine and their tipsy banter stared. Terry was very playful. He had Summer trapped beneath him on the throw rug, his shirt off and thrown somewhere. Summer couldn’t stop giggling. The wine had her feeling light and cozy. Her laughter couldn’t be contained.
“If you follow directions, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Terry had her by her wrists above her head, “You gotta behave to get what you want, Summer. I’m not asking…I’m telling.”
“It’s on my thigh, and you expect me to behave?”
“I expect you to remember who’s in charge…”
“Terry,” Summer rolled her eyes, “You haven’t felt how deep this throat can go yet.”
“So? What that mean?” Terry arched a dark brow, “You ain’t felt my mouth on your pussy yet.”
Terry sat back on his knees above Summer. She lifted up onto her elbows. He tucked his chin slightly and stared at her with this primal look that reminded her of a jungle cat.
“…take this dress off.”
Summer sat up on her butt and shimmy’s her hips, bringing her dress up and over her head, revealing black, cheeky, lace panties and a matching strapless bra. Terry crawled to her. He pulled her into a fierce kiss. Summer’s hands roamed all over his muscles. His skin is so soft.
“Your room…now…” Terry spoke against her lips, “Right now…”
They both stood on unsteady legs, laughing. Terry popped Summer on the ass and she whimpered softly. They moved towards the stairs, Terry creating space between them so he could watch Summer seduce him with her slow ascend. She would look back at him as she climbed, smirking at him with those siren eyes. That booty in those panties made him want to take a bite.
He’d been dying to see her room. She pushed open the double doors and Terry came face-to-face with a room made for a vixen. The dark palate mixed with low lighting created the perfect space to get nasty. And he planned to get real nasty. Terry walked up on Summer from behind, and with one hand, he gathered her straightened hair into his fist neatly and tugged. She pivoted back against him, her soft cheeks flush against his crotch.
“I’m undressing you…”
Hair still in his grasp, Terry worked on her bra. It fell from her body to the floor. He released her hair so that he could drop down and take her panties off. Summer looked over her shoulder at him. He peeled her panties away at a snails pace. His lips kissed her back dimples. She wiggled her hips to help him lower her panties. Buttery, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.
Terry nibbled on her ass like a famished man. His hands kneaded her plump flesh. It was time to peel the crotch of her panties away from her pussy.
“Bend forward slightly…yes…just like that…”
His deep grunt told her all she needed to know. Terry was blown away by how much sticky, wetness connected to her panties. A slimy, sweetness he couldn’t wait to clean up with his tongue. The aroma of her arousal activated his taste buds. The shape of her lips from the back had him mesmerized. Summer stepped out of her panties quickly so Terry could have her completely.
“C’mere,” Terry stood and walked Summer towards her bed, “Sit this pussy on my mouth right now.”
He got down on the floor and tilted his head back on the bed. Summer straddled his face and tilted her pelvis forward. Terry placed each hand on her ass to push her closer. The moment her pussy smothered him, he used his tongue to clean up her mess.
“Fuck!”
Summer felt his tongue part her outer lips and swipe upward. She almost saw heaven.
“Mhm…”
Her legs shook. Terry pushed her legs apart further with force so he can eat it more. Summer raised a leg to the edge of the bed and Terry wasted no time using his lips and tongue in junction to slurp on her pussy.
“Yes….oh….”
This was a man that knew what he was doing. He didn’t have to tell you. Summer started feeding his mouth some pussy with a roll of her hips. Terry followed her movements eagerly. Clit hard, folds nice and slick, she knew she was close. It was only a matter of time.
“Terry, I’m gonna cum in your mouth…”
His silence was her undoing. He was too busy eating pussy like a starved man. She could hear his big lips working her up to a juicy cum. His tongue darting in and out of her wet hole, her clit being attacked from every angle imaginable, she was going to burst.
“Terry…Terryyyyyy…”
That ass and those thighs jiggled out of control.
“Uhhhhhh….ahhhhhhh….huuuuuuuuhh….”
She fisted the sheets so hard her nails dug info her skin painfully. The aftershocks of her release left lingering tremors she couldn’t control. Terry removed his lips from her clit, a trail of her cum connected to his bottom lip. His face was covered in sweat and cum. Summer threw herself onto the bed so Terry could stand. She looked at him and watched as he licked his lips.
“So good…your pussy tastes so good…”
“Thank you…now I wanna taste you…”
It was the moment she’d been waiting for. Terry hummed his approval, walking up towards her. Summer worked to undo his pants with frantic movements. Terry didn’t stop her. She wanted that dick in her mouth.
“Get yours, baby…”
“Oh, I will,” Summer replied.
Summer lowered his pants and briefs. His dick bobbed out and she had to take a moment to just…
He was definitely a big boy. Enough to stretch you out. That pain and pleasure mix. His length told her she would feel it in her stomach. The veins created a path for her tongue to take. His tip; the perfect shape to fit in her mouth perfectly. His balls were taunt and heavy. It was a masterpiece.
“Summer…put this dick in your mouth…that’s an order.”
An order she would gladly accept. Summer kissed along his shaft. Terry smoothed her hair back so she wouldn’t mess it up. Her kisses turned sloppy, then she added some tongue, then she found herself sinking down onto his pole the sides of her mouth stretched to accommodate all of him.
“Put more in there,” Terry placed his arms behind his back, watching her like a drill sergeant, “there you go…such a good little thing, ain’t you?”
He sat at the back of her throat. Summer used her neck and jaw muscles to work that dick with loud sucking and spit bubbles. Terry’s mouth dropped open when she showed him that she could deep throat. Her tongue wiggled against his balls and Terry almost nutted down her throat from that alone.
“Damn, girl…you lovin’ this big dick?”
“Mmmmcmcjdkssk—”
“Fuuuck,” Terry’s beautiful eyes rolled shut, “that’s how you suck this dick…that’s how you show daddy…”
Summer loved sucking dick. Terry’s dick deserved all the love. She would suck it and look in his eyes. Terry stared back with furrowed brows and a bite of his lip.
“Summer…”
Her name resonated from his voice so deep and lustrous.
She pulled out all her tricks. Sucked his balls, focused on his tip, licked his frenulum. Terry’s ab muscles flexed and his squared jaw clenched. Her hair in his grip, Terry was losing his sanity.
“I’m cumming—”
Thick, ropes of ejaculate filled her mouth.
“Ughh–ahhhhh fuck—”
Summer drank down every single drop like it was the sweetest cream filling. She’d waited months to do this and she was going to make this beautiful man cum. That fat dick hung in her face ready for more action and she had a wet pussy for it to dig into.
“Aight, on your back, no more wasting time.”
Terry spoke those words with such urgency. Summer felt the firmness in his tone. She scooted onto the bed and spread her legs wide and limber. Terry climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs. The feeling of the tip of his dick sitting against her pussy lips made this moment all too real.
“Yes…put that big dick in me…”
Terry placed himself above her and with one hand, he guided his dick between her lips and then with a slight thrust of his hips, he sank inside of Summer. She gasped, knees drawing into her chest. Terry watched his dick split her open with a penetrating stare. Summer tried to move and Terry locked her legs to her ears.
“You want me to keep you still? I suggest you stop moving.”
She froze.
With one thrust, he was fully inside of her. Summer moaned louder. As a reflex, she tried to close her legs, but Terry wasn’t having that.
“Terry! Holy FUCKING SHIT!”
“Eyes on me. That’s an order.”
He smirked mischievously. She was ruined.
Terry pumped into her at a moderate pace. Summer couldn’t handle taking all that dick and focusing on his eyes at the same time. There was no way.
“It’s so big!”
“It’s big but this pussy love it, this pussy love it, look at this pussy…creamin’ all over me like that…such a messy girl…”
Summer was making a mess indeed. You could hear it and see it. Wet, sloshing noises.
“Ain’t been fucked in a while…got you wettin’ this dick up.”
She couldn’t handle the way his dick stroked her spot.
“Stretchin’ this pussy out? Didn’t I say I wasn’t gon’ take it easy?”
She couldn’t speak. How could she? Terry had her folded in half and teetering over the edge. She felt her stomach grow tight and her body seized up.
“T–T–T—”
Summer didn’t have a chance. She turned her head and cried out. Terry held his dick deep while staring down at her face.
“You tryna push me out?” Terry chuckled evily, “What if I don’t wanna leave?”
“P–please, daddy…”
“Hmm,” Terry slowly withdrew his hips, “Please keep fucking you?”
His words were killing her. She could only nod her head.
Oh! Boy I've been waiting
(Oh oh oh)
Now my body's shaking
(Oh oh oh)
You're so deep, baby please, take it easy…
“Think you can arch your back for me?”
Terry kissed Summer on her lips.
“Mhm…”
Terry lifted Summer and helped her into position. She arched her back exactly how he wanted her. Deep with that ass high in the air. He was tall so it needed to be. Terry had a handful of her ass and that was his leverage to anchor his dick in her pussy. Summer groaned into the sheets. She looked breathtaking. Hair fanned out above her. Back in a beautiful position. Ass sitting up and giving Terry the best view of that pink pussy.
“Oooh!”
She could feel him almost touch her heart with how long his dick is!
“Terry, it’s too much!”
He wasn’t even giving her all of him. He arched a brow down at her.
“What did we discuss…”
She knew to be a big girl but LAWD he was hefty.
“I know…it’s just so big…”
“With a body like this…it’s built for dick like mine…”
He stroked slower, Summer drooling onto her sheets.
“Nah you look at me when I’m in this pussy…”
“Summer turned her head and looked back at Terry.
“There’s my pretty girl…such a pretty girl.”
Summer put a finger in her mouth and sucked on it like a pacifier while staring into his eyes.
“Fine ass,” Terry picked up the pace.
“Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!”
Summer bit down on her finger and her eyes crossed. She coated his dick again and at this point it was dripping wet. Terry pulled out and ate her from behind. He couldn’t control himself. Summer tried to move her hips away and it earned a sharp slap to the ass. Terry resurfaced, pumping his dick in his hand. He snatched Summer by her hair and abruptly angled her head to suck him off. Summer did just that while Terry fingered her pussy from the back. He started talking her through it.
“Fingers deep in this pussy, little one? Mmhm…”
Summer stroked him while sucking on his tip.
“There you go, such a creamy little slut…”
She furrowed her brows at the feeling of two fingers pumping her. She was leaking to the bed.
“Daddy fingering this pussy good? Hmm?”
Summer spit his dick out, “I’m cumming!”
Terry continued to work his fingers knuckle deep. Summer felt something burst inside of her and soon she was creating a puddle between her legs. Terry’s fingers slipped out and he brought them to her mouth to taste. Summer licked them clean for him.
“I know you can give me more, right?”
“Yes…” Summer replied weakly.
Terry placed Summer on her back and then he got between her legs from the side. Terry pointed his still hard dick at her pussy and with one look into her eyes he was back inside like he never left. His toned hips worked to drill her hole.
“Daddy! Cum already!” Summer begged.
It felt too good and she couldn’t handle the overwhelming pleasure. She pressed a weak hand against his abs, attempting to push him away, only for Terry to lock her wrist down. He licked his lips at her and gave her a sly smirk while continuing to fuck her into the mattress.
“Terry…”
“Yes?”
Summer erupted. The tight hold from her walls made his balls tighten and his dick pulsate within her wetness.
“Give me this pussy!”
Terry’s hips stuttered out of control. He couldn’t hold off any longer. This good pussy on her had his dick so sensitive.
“Summer…FUCK!”
Terry pulled out and Summer shot up from the bed with her tongue poked out and eyes on him. Terry fisted his long dick, emptying a big load all over her tongue and face. It just wouldn’t stop. His ass muscles clenched from the overwhelming pressure. Summer looked pleasantly fucked and her giggle warmed his heart.
“You’re such a nasty girl…”
“All for you…”
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