#so now every time i say fingers crossed i have to fight the urge to immediately say but im not lying. i need you to know im not lying

[fowlfics]

Guess what~ :3c

it is an absolute HONOUR to have been invited to @baroqueworkszine and I am incredibly excited for this project!!

and, coincidentally... the contributor apps have just opened!! i think y'all should def apply <3

[loserboysandlithium]

The Pact: Eddie Munson One Shot

Summary: As children, you and Eddie made a pact to never cross that line. But as the two of you have grown it has become almost impossible to keep. You decide to make a new pact instead. ;)

Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, word count 3k, moved over from my old account 🖤

*******

"Eddie!" you knock loudly on the door of his trailer. His van is here so he's gotta be home.

"Eds?!" you try again, banging on the door even louder.

He's probably still sleeping. The boy doesn't wake up earlier than noon, especially on a Saturday.

You close the screen door and make your way around the trailer to his window. It's cracked slightly and the smell of weed immediately hits your nose, making you smile. He's up.

You push up on the old window, listening to the squeak as it struggles to move. "Eddie!" you shout through the crack. Again, no response.

You roll your eyes as you use all your strength to lift the window enough to crawl through. You climb in head first and tumble onto his floor. As you sit up, your eyes adjust to the dim room. You see him lying on his back on the floor, headphones on his ears, his fingers tapping away as he listens to the music.

No shirt, his tattoos on full display. Hair pulled back into a messy bun, loose curls sticking out everywhere. A pair of dark green flannel pajama pants hanging low on his waist.

Fuck, he looks good.

You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, inhaling on the joint, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. You tiptoe across the floor, hearing the tune of 'Dirty Women' by Black Sabbath coming from the headset as you lean over him.

His already round eyes widen even more as he sits up quickly, his head slamming into yours.

"Shit! Are you okay?" he shouts over the music still blasting in his ears. You reach out with one hand removing his headphones, leaving them dangling around his neck as you rub your forehead with your other.

"Easy Tiger." you giggle and he gives you a crooked grin. His eyes are glossed over and slightly red from his activities.

"Sorry, didn't hear you comin.” he explains, pointing towards the earphones.

"Yeah, I got that.” you smile, shoving his shoulder lightly as he scoots a little closer to you.

"Thought you were coming by tonight?" he raises an eyebrow as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. You grab his hand and he pulls you from the ground.

"My shift got canceled and I was bored." you shrug, reaching out for the joint in his hand.

"I have an idea.” Eddie says suddenly, his brown glinting. You inhale deeply on the joint and wait for him to continue. He stands there silently, eyes zoning in on your chest.

"Eddie!" you smack him upside the head bringing him out of his daze and he shakes his wild hair.

“Sorry.. I'm high." he shrugs with a little wiggle of his brows.

"Your idea?" you push.

"Right.. the clubhouse. Let's hotbox." A slick smile spreads on his pretty lips. Every time you're together, you have to fight the urge to kiss him. To touch him. To beg him to touch you.

You had both made a pact. An oath. You were best friends. You couldn't cross that line. But now.. every year it gets harder and harder to keep it.

I wonder if he feels the same.

"Hello?” Eddie snaps his fingers in front of your face teasingly.

"Mhmm.. yeah. Let's go." you grin at him and his smile widens. He walks over to his nightstand, swiping up his little lunchbox.

You make your way outside, following the familiar trail into the woods behind the trailer park. You used to come here all the time together. Staying up, eating bags of candy and telling scary stories until Wayne would come and drag you both out.

You reach the rickety ladder leading high into the trees and glance over at Eddie, a nervous look on your face.

"When's the last time you've been up here? It looks... well, it looks like we're gonna die if we attempt this."

"Oh, we're fine. Come on. You first." he encourages, his hand landing on your waist. The small touch sends tingles down your spine.

"Why do I have to go first?" you groan, grabbing hold of the wooden plank.

"That way I can catch you if you fall." he explains, keeping his hand resting gently on your side. You take a deep breath and begin your climb.

"Shit!" you squeal as your foot slips on the third step and you fall into Eddie, his free hand lands on your ass, holding you up.

"Oops." you laugh, turning to peek at Eddie. His hand remains in place making you blush.

“Eds?" you nod towards his hand and he just smiles.

"Total accident, sweetheart. Swear." he cheeses. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. He's flirting. Shit, no... He always flirts. It's just friendly banter. Normal for the two of you. But is that all it is? Fuck.

You continue up the ladder, Eddie following close behind until you reach the top. You push the Spider-Man sheet to the side and crawl into the small treehouse. Everything looks about the same. A few new additions since the last time you've been here.

An ashtray sits in the corner, a stack of playboy and hustler magazines sprawled out, some empty beer bottles.

"Eddie Munson.." you giggle, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

Eddie plops on the dusty floor reaching out and snagging one of the magazines. "What? A man has needs."

"Ew." you joke, grabbing his lunchbox, plopping a pre rolled joint between your lips.

"What? You don't uh, take care of yourself?"

The question catches you off guard. But even more than that, his tone. It was much deeper than before. You hope your cheeks aren't as red as they feel as you meet his gaze. You light the joint, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke in your lungs a moment before exhaling.

"No, I do." you whisper, taking another toke.

Eddie watches you curiously, scooting a little closer to you in the already cramped space.

"You gonna share?" he winks at you, making your heart flutter. He's so close. All I want is to taste him. To finally give in.

"Hey, you okay?" Eddie nudges you playfully with his foot, shaking you from your thoughts. You nod sitting up on your knees in between his sprawled legs. You bring the joint to his lips and his eyes lock on yours as he inhales slowly.

You inch closer, the slight buzz from the weed making you more confident.

"Are you about to kiss me?" Eddie blurts making you pause.

"What? No!” you snort shoving his chest hard, making him fall back to the dirty floor. He coughs, the smoke filling his lungs coming out in small spurts as you move back to your spot against the wall, feeling a wild mix of emotions.

He scrambles to get back up, immediately coming to sit in front of you again. “I- uh- I wasn't gonna stop you.. if you were going to... ya know?" he mumbles under his breath.

You meet his big brown eyes, the same eyes you've looked into for years and years. There was no mistaking it. They were darker. Full of hunger. A hunger for you.

Shit.. say something. Anything. Your mind goes blank. Every part of you wanting to just kiss him.

The other part of you worried about your friendship. The whole reason the two of you made the pact.

"The pact.” you breathe.

Eddie speaks next, leaning back slightly, twisting one of his rings on his finger.

"Who do you think about when you touch yourself?" he burns lowly, his eyes searching your face.

"What?”

"Who do you think about?" he asks again, his eyes remain locked on yours.

You. Always you.

You shrug instead, keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Eddie nods slowly, taking another long puff off the joint before handing it your way. The small area was already cloudy with smoke as you both continue to add to the haze.

"It's not like we made a blood oath or something."

Eddie says after a few minutes. Both of you now feeling the effects of the high.

"We literally made a blood oath." you argue, a smile on your lips as you think back to the two of you pricking your fingers with a thumb tack.

"We were thirteen." Eddie pushes back, moving over so he's sitting right next to you. You can feel his body warmth radiating against your side. When you turn his face is only inches from yours.

"Where is this coming from?" you whisper.

"I just.. fuck, I don't know. Just, look at you." Eddie breathes out, his words making your entire body warm.

"Who do you think about?" you ask suddenly.

"I don't know what you mean." he grins widely, forcing you to ask him directly.

"When you touch yourself.. do you just think about those girls in the magazine?"

"Sometimes.. sometimes I think of someone else." he hints as his hand gradually makes its way to your thigh.

"Me?" you swallow hard, barely pushing the word out.

"Do you think about me?" he challenges, his hand resting heavily on your upper thigh.

"Yes." you admit. You knew it wasn't the drugs.

You've always wanted Eddie. But the buzz was allowing you to finally speak your truth.

You can tell he's happy with your answer, his face lighting up. His brown eyes gleaming.

"Show me."

"I don't under-'

"Show me what you do when you think about me." he cuts you off swiftly.

Holy shit. Your mind fills with wild thoughts as you take what he said into consideration. You can feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Touching yourself in front of him. Eddie's eyes watching you as you bring yourself to your peak. Would he touch himself too?

Before you can change your mind you guide your hands into your shorts, listening as Eddie inhales sharply.

"Fuck." he exhales, watching carefully as your hand meets your warmth under the material of your shorts. You close your eyes, worried that if you see him you might overthink everything.

Right now it just felt good. So good.. and you know he's watching.

"I close my eyes." you start, slowly rubbing circles around your clit. Eddie hums in response, waiting for you to keep going.

"And I see your face. I-I think about how your lips would feel.. your tongue. the sounds you would make..." you moan as you slip two fingers inside, feeling your arousal.

"What else?" Eddie rasps, his lips suddenly against your ear, his voice makes you speed up your fingers.

"I think about how you would feel inside me.. if you would be rough.. if you would.. ohh.. if you would make me scream."

"I promise I could make you scream." Eddie burns. You feel his fingers on your chin, turning you to face him. Your eyes drift open and Eddie presses his forehead against yours as you work your fingers in and out of your soaked pussy.

"I think about your fingers a lot... your rings.. I pretend my hands are yours.." you whimper, feeling yourself on the edge but not quite there.

You don't want your fingers. You want his.

"Eddie."

"You gonna cum, sweetheart?"

"I want you.. I want you to make me cum.." you whine desperately, only seconds away from your orgasm.

"Yeah?" he pants breathlessly.

"Please." you beg. He wastes no time reaching into your shorts, you remove your fingers just in time for his to replace them. His slender fingers immediately reach exactly where you need them to, curling with precision, stroking across your g spot making you cum instantly.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" you cry, your muscles pulsing around his fingers, Eddie watches in awe as you fall apart beneath his hand.

"Holy fuck.” Eddie groans deeply, slowly working you through your orgasm.

You grab him, slamming your lips into his pulling a moan from him instantly. He leans in, his body pressing you down to the floor as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Fuck.

He tastes like weed and Camel Blues as his tongue greets yours hungrily. You both kiss sloppily, soaking up this moment. After all these years, both of you finally getting what you want.

Clothes are torn off. No more hesitation as you both paw at each other, kissing and biting, the eagerness apparent from both of you. Moans and the sound of messy kisses fill the room.

"Fuck me." you plead with him as your bodies grind together, skin on skin, so close together.

"We need a new pact." he pants breathlessly, lining himself up.

"Mhmm." you moan, feeling his tip start to stretch you out.

"The new pact is that You're mine." he moans as he thrusts himself in, entering you fully, a filthy cry raining from your lips.

"I'm yours." you whimper, your fingernails digging into his back as he begins to pump in and out of you.

"We have to seal it, sweetheart." he mumbles drunkenly, picking up his pace. His size is unlike anything you've had before, your legs already shaking slightly, a tinge of pain mixed with the beautiful pleasure.

"What do you- oh!" you gasp as his teeth sink into your bottom lip just hard enough to break the skin. You feel the trickle of warm liquid dribble down your chin.

"Shit." you breathe out before returning the favor, taking Eddie's plump lip between your teeth and tugging roughly making him growl as he slams his cock into you.

"Goddamn, baby.” he groans, kissing your lips, gliding his tongue inside. A metallic taste fills your mouth as your tongues swirl together wildly, your blood mixing together in your kiss.

"Call me baby again." you whimper, rolling your hips, grinding on his big cock. He feels so fucking good.

Eddie chuckles bringing his lips to your ear as he fucks you powerfully. His cock glides in and out of your slickness, the sounds loud in the quiet of the woods.

"You like being my baby?" he murmurs in your ear.

"Yes!”

"You feel so fucking good.. so fucking good." he praises, entering you deeply with every snap of his hips. Your head falls to the wooden floor as your back begins to arch.

"There we go, sweetheart." Eddie hums approvingly as your thighs begin to tremble.

He keeps himself buried deep, rolling into you, his thick cock filling you to the brim. He thrusts into you precisely, finding your sweet spot making your toes curl.

"Eddie! R-right there!" you whine, the pleasure of someone fucking you right for the first time was unlike anything you'd felt before. You didn't know sex could feel this good.

"Gonna take care of you, sweetheart.. I got you." Eddie reassures, keeping his pace, in and out, in and out.

His lips lock onto your neck sucking harshly. You grip the back of his head, holding him to you, the feeling of his lips sucking your skin felt delicious. His fingers meet your clit, quickly rubbing circles on the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll.

"Please don't stop... I think.. I think I'm gonna..”

"Cum for me, beautiful.” Eddie demands in your ear, sending you over the edge. You pull his hair roughly as your body jolts upward, your pussy clenching around him, spasm after spasm as you flood his cock.

"E-Eddie! Ohh my god.. f-fuck!" you practically scream, Eddie loving every second of you writhing beneath him. Watching as you make a mess of his cock. You can feel your cum coating your thighs as he continues to pound into you.

His hands tangle in your hair as his lips meet yours feverishly. Your entire body is overwhelmed as you cling to him, it's almost too much but you don't want it to end. He lifts your leg onto his shoulder, the new angle making you gasp.

"You're so fucking hot." Eddie moans, the sounds coming from him are everything you imagined they'd be. Even better.

"We're gonna cum together." Eddie orders as he leans down, taking your leg with him, his hard cock somehow reaching deeper.

"Together.” you whimper, feeling him stretch you out again and again. He speeds up, slamming into you wildly, your legs shake as you grasp for him, wanting him to be as close as possible. He leans down even more, you feel the strain of your leg muscles as he bends you in ways unknown to you before.

He sinks his teeth into your neck making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your nails claw at his back, sending red streaks across his tattoos.

"Gonna cum…. wanna cum inside you.." he mumbles, his hips moving at an insane pace.

"Cum inside me, baby." you moan, completely losing all sense of anything but him as he fucks you senseless. A few more hard thrusts and you feel his cock twitch, his warm cum spilling into you as he moans your name.

"Fucking Christ." he laughs breathlessly as he collapses on top of you. Both of you lay there silently, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. You run your fingers through his curls as he rests his head on your chest.

After a few minutes you hear the crunching of leaves below you causing you both to sit up suddenly.

"Edward!" Wayne's voice calls from below.

"Shit."

"Come down here and eat your damn dinner.. 20 years old and still playing in a damn treehouse." Wayne mumbles as you hear his footsteps heading back through the woods.

You both look at each other and burst out laughing.

"Dinner, m'lady?" Eddie smirks, rounding up your clothes.

"Dinner sounds perfect.” you smile at him, feeling happier than you’ve ever felt.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Diet Pepsi (18+)

A modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader smutshot

When we drive in your car, I'm your baby So sweet Losing all my innocence in the backseat

a/n : how do I explain this? I suppose the song Diet Pepsi got stuck in my head, and when I watched the music video, the only male lead I could envision in that sorta situation is our Aemond/Ewan. So here ya go! Reading time... depends on what you get into 😉💋

masterlist

themes/warnings : pure smut, filthy actions and filthy language, complete disregard for sports car interiors, old money boyfriend Aemond x bratty internet starlet girlfriend reader, sticky surfaces, foggy windows, wayward fingers, sliding tongues, and YES YES YES

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your boyfriend glances at you from the corner of his eye, barely, his attention remaining on the road. But his veiny hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh, fully exposed beneath the scrap of pale pink fabric that you try to pass off as a miniskirt.

Mission accomplished. After only a few minutes of pretending to stew while looking out the window, he is quick to sense that something is amiss with his kitten.

"Nothing," you respond in the best downcast tone you can manage, fighting the urge to clench your thighs to trap his thick fingers in the warmth between.

"Come on now," he clicks his tongue, "don't play around."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You've barely looked at me since you got in the fucking car." Poor baby. You're getting to him, as planned.

Time to rile him up in a way that only you can. "Do you think Maris is pretty?"

He scoffs, "Don't start, kitten."

"So you do," you egg him on. "I knew it. You were looking at her tits earlier. I bet you loved it when that skank bent over in front of you. Gave you a good view."

"Kitten, please," his grip on your flesh tightens, trying to get you stop. "You're being ridiculous."

"And you didn't answer my question, Aemond," you snap back, grabbing his hand and prying it from your leg.

"Fuck's sake," he groans. He then rests both his hands on the steering wheel, at the standard 10 and 2, grasping onto it so roughly that the leather squeaks.

You called him Aemond. Not babe. Not handsome. You must be pissed, for some imagined reason, and he simply does not have the time.

Impatient, he goes off on a tirade, "You've asked me this shit before, babe, and my answer remains the same. I don't care about any other girl. You're the only one that I want, that I will ever want."

Licking your lips, and looking slyly at him behind your done-up eyelashes, you say, "You could've fooled me." He raises his brow at your childishness, muscles flexing under his tight white shirt as he makes a sharp turn. You continue, "I know what I saw. You want her, is that it? Is it because she's got status like you?"

"You have status," he corrects you, "The whole damn country practically knows your name."

"But it's not the same," you moan. "I didn't come from money. My blood isn't blue."

He sighs audibly, "We talked about this. None of that fucking matters, kitten. Especially not to me."

You cross your legs, leaning against the car door as if to inch away from him, your devilishly handsome silver-haired aristocratic boyfriend. The very one you're so keen on tormenting now. "You don't know how I feel."

But he does. You've long since lost track of the countless times you've been blindsided by an uncharacteristic wave of self-doubt. You, infamous for being one of the bubbliest and most outgoing personalities on the internet, your lifestyle guides and fashion spreads a mainstay on every social media platform.

But ever since you started dating Aemond, you can't help but feel unworthy sometimes. He is Aemond Targaryen after all, a glowing young heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, his lineage extending back to the great Valyrian empire.

Old money, as they say. That was his life, but before him, you thought old money was just some fashion trend that dominated your Pinterest boards.

You met at a charity gala for the Hightower Foundation. Unaware of who he was, he was simply a hot guy you set your sights on, and you managed to get his attention by accidentally spilling your espresso martini down his crisp tailored shirt.

Women were not usually that forward when approaching him, especially not those who ran in the same circles as him, like the Baratheon sisters or the Tyrell heiress. But you were different. You were simply, unabashedly yourself. Your biggest asset was you - your personality, your style, your genuine warmth that allows you to build connections with anyone in the industry - you didn't walk into a room with the snootiness and entitlement of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

The chemistry was instant, overriding any superficial issues that may arise from someone like him getting with someone like you. Which is why you snuck out of the gala together, and fucked each other senseless in the backseat of his car, sweaty and giggling and whispering sweet nothings like you were already long-time lovers back then.

As you are now, nearly two years later. Aemond's love for you has only grown a thousand fold, and he shows this every day.

The car idles at a stop sign. He reaches for your face and implores, "Kitten, look at me, please."

"No," you impetuously say, making him drop his hand.

"Baby, come on."

"Don't feel like it, Aemond."

The light turns green. The car zooms past houses and open fields. Shops and smaller, unknown places of business. They all come together in a blur. The tension is at an all-time high in the car, just as you intended.

He makes several maneuvers, and the scenery outside begins to look unfamiliar to you. The street you enter next is particularly quiet, almost empty, all the shops closed for the day or boarded up. It's likely on the outskirts of King's Landing, far from the Targaryen estate in its central area of Red Keep.

"You still gonna be a brat?" he asks lowly.

You smirk, "Don't call me a fucking brat."

"Have it your way, kitten," he says, and it sounds like a promise. The car pulls up to a vacant parking lot behind an old restaurant, the surrounding area covered by a thin tree line. There is no one, and nothing in sight.

He leans back, and takes a few deep breaths.

"You've been a bad girl, my kitten."

"Have I?" you bite your lip, no longer fighting the urge to clench your thighs. The miniskirt rides up higher, and his eyes become drawn to the sight, his cock hardening underneath his blue jeans.

He hums, leaning over and grabbing your jaw towards him with one hand, "Yeah, bringing shit up like that. Like I would ever look at anyone besides you."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Want me to fucking mention the time you actually flirted with the Stark boy in front of me?"

"I wasn't - "

"Shut up, kitten," he spits. "I'm not dumb."

His voice dips low, and you feel your cunny growing wet and slick. Gods, he is so hot like this. Assertive yet downright sensual. He only wants one thing, and you will surrender it to him in a heartbeat.

"What you gonna do 'bout it, handsome?" You lick your gloss-covered lips and you are caught off guard when he pushes his thumb inside and orders, "Suck."

You obey. His pupil significantly dilates in one eye, while the sapphire fixture in the other glints beautifully. He looks regal, and he's all yours.

"That's right," he breathes, his vision clouding over in lust as he feels the pad of your tongue, "fucking minx. Always so insolent, huh?"

"Mhmmm." When tears blur the corners of your eyes, he takes his hand and sucks right where you did. Then he pulls you in roughly, kissing you with everything in him, the lewdest grunts of pleasure escaping him when you push your tongue past his teeth.

"Come... come 'ere," he places you on top of himself, straddling him in the driver's seat, the lace of your underwear rubbing against his denim. "Gods, this fucking skirt." He pokes at it, lips curling. "You torture me, darlin'. Now you gotta make up for it."

You jut your bottom lip out, dragging your bright pink fingernails across his cheek. His mouth parts at the sight of his pretty little kitten practically begging for it.

"Is that so, handsome? Why don't you make me?"

He anchors his fingers in the thin bands of your underwear and in a sure and decisive flash of movement, he rips the material apart. He throws it over his shoulder, and it lands in the backseat, among the littered lollipop and bubblegum wrappers you leave behind. He loves it when you suck on that hard candy shell in front of him. It's partially the reason why your penchant for sweet treats has gotten worse.

Your pussy is exposed to the cool draft coming from the AC of his car, and it's a good and familiar sensation. He fondles your clit, little slow circles, making you whimper. He presses on, eager to unwrap his kitten like a piece of candy to be devoured. The zip of your miniscule skirt slides down, and your bare ass and cunny is revealed to him.

"Gods fucking damn, kitten," he rasps, then slowly buries three whole fingers into your slickness, spreading your folds, pumping in and out.

"Aghhhh, baby," erupts from your glossy mouth, breath hitching as he picks up the pace. In and out. Out and in.

His face appears almost sinister, clouded over in lust, his bottom lip trapped under bunny teeth, but then he whispers, "I love you, kitten. I love you so fucking much," and you see him as your Aemond. He's offering more than just his body - to you, he has already surrendered his heart and soul.

"I love you too, baby," you respond in as firm of a voice as you can manage, made even more difficult when he probes that sweet spot inside your sopping cunt.

You leak onto his fingers, droplets of your milky white substance beginning to pool in his palm.

"Ask me again," he snarls, shapely lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth.

"Wh-what?" you reply in a daze.

"That stupid question," he says. His pace doesn't slow; if he keeps up, you just might forget how to speak, save for incoherent noises that make his cock twitch.

"You'd rather be... b' with... a fancy heiress," you try, pausing when he pinches your hardened nipple over your crop top with his other hand. "Maris... Baratheon... or Floris... or - "

"Look at me, princess," he says, "You feel that? You feel me? There's your fucking answer."

"Not enough," you shake your head feebly, keeping up the ruse. Judging by the buldge he sports, he's into it too.

Smirking, he pulls his glistening fingers out of you, and helps you out of your crop top. He chucks the material somewhere, before ducking his head and nipping at the mounds of your breasts.

"Unnnghhh," you hear him, muffled by your flesh. He undoes your lace bra and sucks wildly. You cradle his head with both hands, keeping him pressed against your tits. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, and he angles his face so that your eyes meet when he takes a nipple in his mouth.

"Shit, baby," you whimper, heating up all over from the sheer intimacy of it all.

His mouth lets you go with a resounding pop, and he tilts his head toward the backseat, hands gripping your hips to guide you. He follows suit, removing his white shirt in the process, as well as his jeans, shimmying them off his legs as he scrambles after you.

He smacks your ass with an open palm as it is raised in front of him in full view, the sharp sting of it only making you grow wetter.

You shuffle onto your hands and knees, looking back to see him already in position. His fine Valyrian steel chain dangles from his neck, the one thing still on his person. His boxers are also discarded, and his length is fully erect, slapping his stomach when he leans over to hastily cover your mouth with his. Your tongues battle for dominance, drool dripping down your chins. You feel a strain in your neck from twisting back to accommodate his kiss, but you don't care.

You feel it poking at your backside, feel him, his cock all slippery from hot precum dribbling down the sides.

He rocks back, hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you in the prime position for him to take.

In a swift movement that nearly drives you insane, he twists downward until his face is level with your opening, and he buries his tongue in your soaking pussy. You know he likes it rough, so do you, and this is his way of getting you ready.

"Fuuckkk," you collapse forward, the side of your face colliding with the smooth leather seat. He twirls his tongue around, and you swear you can see stars.

You must have blacked out for a split second, delirious from the high only he can give you, because a moment later you feel his tip edging itself slowly into your cunt.

"Ready, baby?" he asks.

"Fuck me," is your strained plea.

His cock stretches you out, inch by inch, your slicked walls straining against his sheer size. A whining noise leaves you, music to Aemond's ears, and when he's fully sheathed, he exhales, "So pretty. Such a good little slut for me, kitten." That sends you over the edge.

You move forward slightly, then back again, your ass slamming right into his pelvis. He gets the message, smart boy that he is.

With an animalistic growl, he proceeds to frantically buck his hips into you, his huge cock just about splitting you open. He slaps your ass as he goes, making you tremble.

Each thrust sends shockwaves throughout your body, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Your dripping cunt begins to feel that familiar ache, your lower belly spasming from his ceaseless thrusts. Your knees threaten to buckle, and if they do, you imagine that his firm throbbing shaft will be enough to keep you propped up.

"Aemond... baby... " your moans echo in the car, joined by his, "Yes... yes, kitten... so fucking good, taking me like this... pussy so sweet for me... "

The filthiest of words spill from the two of you like prayers from the damned, just begging to be answered. And seven hells, with the way Aemond makes you feel like you're floating amongst the skies, he just might be your salvation.

He does not relent, intent on rearranging your insides with how deep he buries his cock inside of you. You don't want him to stop. You never do.

You have to hold onto something to keep steady, to keep from utterly flopping down in a mindless haze. Your palms reach for the fogged up windows, and Aemond angles your bodies so that you're half-seated atop his thighs. He grabs hold of your breasts as leverage, squeezing them as your leaking cunt squeezes his cock.

The angle allows him to fill you better, and that heated coil unfurls in your belly, a signal that you are about to reach your peak.

He draws forward, pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, licking your sweat with reckless abandon.

"Baby," he moans, "I'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... "

"Oh, yeah?" you answer in a high-pitched, wanton manner.

"Yeah," he breathes.

"You promise?"

He chuckles, and you feel the sound reverberating as your back is pressed to his chest.

"My sweet kitten," he purrs.

"I'm getting close, baby," you let him know, and he takes it as his cue to pound his cock inside faster. His lips are pressed to your ear, arms wrapped around your torso possessively.

He lets himself go, decorating your insides white with his Targaryen seed. You glance down and see it spilling out of your cunt, milky rivulets staining the once-pristine leather seat. His cock convulses in your pussy, waves of his release pulsing like fragmented aftershocks. It hits the right spot, bringing you to that little death, your walls contracting from the dizzying pleasure he gives you.

With that stupid and blissed-out smile on your face, you lean back, collapsing on top of him. You soon find yourselves curled together on the backseat, a mess of sweaty and satisfied limbs.

His silver hair is matted against his forehead, and you reach up and brush them away. He catches your hand and presses a loving kiss to the back of it.

He props his head up on one arm, as you draw lazy circles on the firm planes of his chest. You whisper sweet nothings to each other, as you had on the night you met.

"You should rile me up more often, you little brat," he smirks crookedly.

You roll your eyes, but peck his lips anyway with a cheeky smack, "Isn't that all I do, baby?"

"Sure, kitten," he says, "and I fucking love you for it."

"Oh, baby," you purr, and your wayward fingers reach down to stroke his half-erect cock. His brows raise in amusement, but it only takes several good pumps before his shaft is again taut from your touch. You whisper, "I love you too."

And so the second round begins.

Taglists (refer here to be added)

Vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @9431789 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

P.S. eagle-eyed readers can probably spot the nod to chemical override ;)

[omniuravity]

Hazbin Hotel Characters During Rut/Mating Season

Okay, I love rut/mating season fics so much that I made headcanons. These are mostly based on actual animal biology, so I tried my best.

Tags: @bloodypeachblog, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered, @pinkhimecat, @je-suis-eternel-jennie

TW: Sex (obviously), animalistic behavior, way too much research, creature cocks (kind of), mention of pregnancy, Alastor having sex despite him being asexual, Valentino is his own warning

Husk:

Husk does his best to keep his urges under control, especially in public. If Alastor caught wind of it, he would be tormented to hell and back. However, he does tend to be a bit more grumpy in public to hide it.

He tends to drink a bit more during this period just to help fight these urges and to keep them hidden from others.

He is also extremely protective, especially around Alastor. Other men don't bother him as much, but he absolutely despises Al getting even close to you when you are HIS mate after all.

To combat this, Husk makes sure to mark you with his scent every chance he gets. Even if he doesn't want Al to know he's feeling this way, he wants Alastor to know that you are his.

He is also a bit more adventurous in bed than normal. Typically, he prefers to keep things pretty vanilla, but due to his urges he does become a bit more possessive.

"What? Just want to try somethin' new. Maybe, make a few kittens while we're at it."

Sir Pentious:

Pentious can't hide most things well, let alone his need to mate with you. When he's not in his room, he is spending all hours of the day near you or talking about you. Though, other residents of the hotel find that pretty normal.

He also likes cuddling with you a lot during the early days of his mating season. Occasionally, letting his tongue flick against your cheek like a little kiss.

Though typically only female cobras build nests for their eggs (even if he can't impregnate you with his eggs like that), he will try and make one for you as a gesture of his love.

As for the sex aspect, you will definitely need to help him out. He does have two dicks, but he does not know how to use them.

He is a very sweet partner during his mating season, making sure you're comfortable every step of the way, even if he's a bit unsure of what to do.

"I've never had a mate thisss time of year before, but would you consssider making a nessst with me?"

Valentino:

Anyone who is "lucky" enough to be Val's partner during this time of year is in for a wild ride. Though his mating cycle is much shorter, he is much more intense than any other man you will ever be with.

Val is constantly making sure you smell like him both in and out of the tower. He wants everybody to know who you belong to. His aphrodisiac is so much stronger during this period as well.

He is also super overprotective. If another man so much as glances at you, Val will "have him fired". Which is code for, "I'm gonna fucking shoot him, so he doesn't look at my mate's face again."

Val's emotions are at an all time high during mating season, "for his future larvae" he says, but it's really an excuse to be more of an asshole to everyone except for his precious mate.

Val just adores seeing you filled with his cum. Even when it's spilling out of you he'll just finger it back in. Couldn't have you losing a single drop of his precious seed.

"Don't worry, chiquita, Daddy's home. Now I hope you're ready for me, because it's going to be a long night for the both of us."

Alastor:

Alastor's rut is practically unbearable, especially without a partner. However, this year, he has you by his side.

Alastor isn't really one for spoiling his partners, but he wants to make you feel happy and loved during this time. He'll buy you new clothes (after ripping off the ones you had), food, and cute little trinkets to remind you of him.

He is very aggressive around men. Lucifer, especially, though any man that crosses your path and so much as looks in your direction can set him off.

Alastor also doesn't normally entertain his sexual impulses. Of course, he'd do it for you, but typically, the most you'll get are a round or two if he feels like it. During his rut, he just let's himself go and fucks you until neither of you can move anymore.

He enjoys a little game of cat and mouse before having sex with you. It makes him feel powerful and feeds into his animalistic instincts.

"This has been an entertaining game, my dear, but you can't hide forever. You know I'll find you, one way or another. And when I do...well, I believe it'll leave you...breathless."

Lucifer:

Lucifer's ruts have been unbearable lately. It has been seven years since he's had a partner to indulge in them with, but now he has you.

Lucifer is all for spoiling his mate. Mainly shiny things or anything that catches your eye. He likes decorating your shared bedroom with the things he finds for you.

He isn't nearly as aggressive as Alastor during his rut. However, he is very protective of you. He barely lets you do anything on your own out of the risk of you hurting yourself.

He's the type of guy to start coming up with baby names as soon as his rut starts, just in case.

Normally, Lucifer is very mindful during sex knowing every spot that makes you feel good. During his rut, he loses his control and makes sure to find those spots every single time while marking your body as his. He, of course, apologizes profusely after.

"I'm sorry, birdie. I just can't control myself when I'm around you, especially this time of year. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you later."

[hitomisuzuya]

it’s always nerd scara x reader, what about nerd reader who scara thinks is inexperienced, but they give him a real good time🫣

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. blowjob. riding. virgin! reader.

anything for you, my dear❤️ scara is about to get real humbled. i am blowing you kisses with this once i post it. mwah!

the blush on your cheeks couldn't have been darker seeing the way scaramouche was looking at you. it was predatory, a wolf staring down the prey he is finally going to get to devour. his smirk as he spoke very obviously showed the dark excitement. "i'll bet you are a virgin," his mouth watered seeing the way you looked away shyly.

"what does that have to do with anything?" you posed the question to him to cover up how flustered you really are. naturally, more words came out. "and anyways, is virginity really a concept? it's the first time someone has sex with someone, right?"

despite the aching in his cock, scaramouche was curious to see where this went. "brilliant deduction, sherlock. go on," he crossed his arms.

you continued once he raised an eyebrow. "so say you have sex with someone for the first time, and then you go have sex with someone else for the first time? does that make you a virgin again?"

look at you, turning such a concept on its head and sideways. he swore he felt his cock get harder. it didn't make any sense to him, but he logically hadn't thought of it that way before.

cute, foolish blustering.

he was going to fucking ruin you.

"it's all about sensation. anyone who even reads about sex or even..even watch it," he almost snorted at how twice as shy you sounded, hardly being able to say porn. "i'll prove it," even as you said it, holding your head a little high, he could tell you were second guessing yourself.

you'd had to speak fast, before he could cut in a biting comment that would make you lose brittle confidence. but, you fiercely knew you had to stand your ground.

especially with scara.

scaramouche certainly didn't expect to be in the position he was in now. he wanted to see you beg and crumble apart, beg for him to take care of you because you didn't know what you were doing. shatter in your desperation to have his cock impaling you.

the shoe had never been on the other foot so much in his life.

his electric eyes are a little wide with shock as he looked down at you on your knees, looking impossibly cute with your tongue licking slow lines up and down his cock.

he hissed through his teeth as you prodded your tongue in his slit, circling his cockhead before sucking until drool rolled down his cock. he squirmed as you lowered your mouth on his cock, slowly flattening your tongue as his it pulsed against it.

you were taking the concept of sensation and smashing it with a well thrown rock.

his legs shook, his hand folding a handful of your hair into his hand. his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, his hips jerking up to push his cock deeper into your mouth. you were sucking and grinding your mouth on his cock in a way that made him see stars.

you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it on what wasn't in your mouth. through watery eyes, scaramouche could tell you were fighting the urge to look away shyly. but never once did your pretty eyes stray from him.

they were trained on his every twitch, and reaction as moans started to bubble in his throat. you had a point to prove. experience sometimes meant jack shit.

you muffled a moan on his cock as his hand tightened in your hair. he held your mouth down on his cock, pushing into your throat. your pliable throat felt divine convulsing around his cock as you gagged.

he couldn't even jump on the fact you seemed to enjoy being handled roughly, latching onto it and devouring you with the fact. your mouth just felt too fucking good. "f-fuck, i think i am cumming," he groaned, his thighs quaking as you recovered your breathing and started sucking again.

you made it this far, surprising yourself in the process. you felt his fingers loosen on your hair after a few moments of bobbing your mouth on his cock, thrusting somewhat carelessly. the glare he shot you as you suddenly took your mouth off his cock sent a shiver up your spine.

"w-what do you think you are doing, slut?" scaramouche growled as you got to your feet and wiped your mouth.

"proving it to you," you quickly said, putting your hands on his shoulders. you knew if you even showed a moment of weakness, scaramouche would grab it by the throat and squeeze, and all your plans would go up in smoke.

you shook a little bit as you straddled his lap. sucking him off for the first time left your pussy dripping and almost embarrassingly wet. the throbbing in your clit spurred you on as you settled his cock between your folds.

you sighed shakily as you glided your pussy on his hard cock. groaning, his hand went to your hip, the other grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. "bounce like your life depends on it, slut," he moaned, lowering you down onto his cock a little more carelessly than he meant to.

he needed to feel your pussy stretching around his cock, the ache from the not getting to cum sent him reeling. he shivered as your fingernails dug into his shoulders, your walls fluttering to clench around his cock hearing his degradation.

he would've degraded you more, but your cunt felt too tight and warm for him to find words. your back arched, your body tensing in pain the sudden from quick intrusion of his cock. sighing shakily, his fingers found your clit.

a moan tore from your throat, your clit pulsing under the pads of his fingers. jolts of pleasure ebbed the pain away so fast it left you dizzy. he bottomed out as you rolled your hips down. "it's all..about.. sensation, remember?" he moaned encouragingly to soothe you.

don't think for one second that just because you are literally fucking humbling him, that he wasn't going take care of you. (real man behavior in only the best of ways, in your opinion.)

his thumbs grazed over your hips as you started bouncing. he rocked his hips up to nudge his cock into your sweet spot, letting you set your own pace. his body was turning to jelly fast, your walls squeezing his cock so tight that he thought he was going to cum right then.

he may have been falling apart, but you were falling apart faster. your head spin as tightness coiled in your core. the lewd sounds of his cock squelching and out of your pussy, your thighs smacking against his as you fucked yourself down onto his cock mingled with his husky moans.

"fuck..good girl.. fucking hell keep going," scaramouche hissed, guiding your pace on his cock. you gasped in pleasure, your whole body shaking as his cockhead assaulted your sweet spot. the sensation bubbled over any other pain, swallowing you as you chased your high.

he laughed shakily hearing how shameless your moans sound. "i was right to want to keep you," he moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his cock pulsed strong between your walls, "a perfect, fuckable pet," he was babbling now, lost in the sensation of your cunt swallowing his cock.

you tightened your thigh muscles for extra friction as you bounced. you couldn't barely think, but you were proving your point. his cheeks were flushed, whimpers bubbling in his throat as one arm snaked up to the small of your back.

he hastily buried his face in your neck to muffle his moans tinged with soft whimpers. the knot of your orgasm broke apart, overwhelmed by the pleasure of hearing him refer to you as his pet. "scaramouche!" you cried out, barely able to hold yourself up as you creamed hard on his cock.

he lifted his head from your neck, scooping one of your nipples into his mouth to suck on, nursing you through your orgasm. there was still more than enough for him to break apart your innocence like he fantasized about.

but for now, he was going to enjoy cumming inside of your pretty cunt.

an innocent nerd like you is always breakable.

[sonarspace]

WHEN I'M DOWN ON MY KNEES, YOU'RE HOW I PRAY. SATORU GOJO

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend gives you a good reason to stay home from work. CONTENT: teasing. kinda needy gojo. f!receiving. m!receiving. 69. mating press. face sitting. unprotected p in v. WC: 5.6k

satoru gojo was a handful. a tall, insufferable, whiny handful that followed you around like a lost puppy, and somehow, despite your best efforts, you’d gotten used to it.

"where are you going?" his voice practically purred, draped over the couch like a cat as you slipped on your shoes. "you’re not really going to leave me here all alone, are you?"

you rolled your eyes fondly, glancing back at him. "i’m going to work, satoru."

he groaned dramatically, flopping onto his back, arms spread wide. "all you do is work. you don’t love me anymore? am i not good enough?"

"you’re ridiculous," you muttered, grabbing your bag.

"ridiculously in love with you," he shot back with a smirk, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at you. "come on, skip today. i’ll be good. i promise."

"you? good?" you raised a brow, fighting the urge to laugh. "when have you ever been good?"

"hey," he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, "i can be good! i can also be bad... if that’s what you prefer." he gave you a teasing grin, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, this time trying not to blush at his suggestive tone.

"i’m going to be late."

"gojo satoru, abandoned in his prime. left to fend for himself," he muttered dramatically, falling back against the couch. "they’ll tell stories about me. legends of the man whose lover worked too much."

"satoru..."

"just one kiss? for the road?" he looked at you with wide, pleading eyes, lips pursed in that way that made it almost impossible to say no.

"fine," you sighed, leaning down to peck him on the lips. "happy?"

he grinned, eyes sparkling. "never enough." and he tugs you hard enough that you fall forward into his chest.

"satoru!" you yelped, catching yourself on his broad shoulders as you tumbled into him.

he only chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you in place. "you can’t leave now. i’ve got you," he declared triumphantly, his voice low and teasing.

"you’re impossible," you muttered, trying to push yourself up, but he tightened his hold, refusing to let you go.

"mmm, no, i’m lonely," he whined, burying his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "stay here. call in sick. say you caught the 'i-can’t-live-without-my-boyfriend' disease."

"oh my god, satoru," you sighed, but the warmth of his body against yours, the way his fingers curled possessively into your waist, made it hard to pull away. you could feel his smirk against your neck, and that cocky brat knew exactly what he was doing.

his lips brushed against your neck again, this time slower, more deliberate. “what?” he murmured, voice low, his hands tightening at your waist. “you like me needy. admit it”

"you’re a handful," you mumbled, though there was no bite in your words. he chuckled, shifting underneath you until his blue eyes were peeking up at you, playfully. "and yet, here you are, still in my arms," he said smugly. "so what does that make you?"

"late for work," you replied, though you made no effort to leave his embrace.

he grinned, his lips dangerously close to yours. “no… it makes you mine,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. he pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed together, the heat between you growing quickly.

"so full of yourself," you whispered, but there was no hiding how your body betrayed you—the way your heart raced with every slow caress of his fingers as they traced over your curves, sending a ripple of heat through you.

"i’ll make it worth your while," he murmured against your ear, voice low and thick with want. his hands slid lower, grazing the edge of your skirt, teasing, his lips brushing the skin beneath your jaw. "stay... please?" his tone was sweet, almost pleading, though the gleam in his eyes was anything but innocent.

"i've been working too hard, haven't i?" you asked, as if convincing yourself, your breath hitching as he pulled you closer.

"yeah," he nodded, his pout exaggerated but laced with that undeniable charm. "leavin’ me alone for long hours... what’s a guy gotta do to get some attention?"

you raised an eyebrow, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you teased, "my baby needs attention?"

he hummed, pressing a kiss just below your jaw, his lips lingering, warm and soft against your skin. "desperately," he whispered, his voice wavering as his hands tightened around your waist. "don’t make me beg."

his lips traveled lower, brushing over the curve of your neck, while his fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath, his fingers warm against your bare skin. “c'mon, stay,” he murmured, breath hot against your throat, sending a shiver down your spine.

"you’re already begging," you whispered, teasing him even though the heat pooling between your legs already made up your mind.

his hands slid back up your thighs, fingers dipping beneath the fabric of your skirt, his touch maddeningly slow.

the way his voice dropped, husky and full of promise, made your breath catch. “you’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?” you muttered, your hands already moving to grip his shoulders.

he grinned, cocky and sure. “only for you.”

"my pretty girl," he murmured, pressing another kiss to the hollow of your throat, lips warm. he moved lower, his lips teasing the line of your collarbone.

your breath hitches at his affection. your hands slid up his arms, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

his fingers tightened on your thigh, edging dangerously close to where you needed him most. your body was already arching into his touch, every nerve on fire as his hand slipped higher, grazing just the edge of your underwear.

his lips hovered over yours, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath against your mouth, but he didn’t kiss you, not yet. "stay," he whispered, his voice a plea wrapped in temptation. his fingers teased the edge of your underwear, brushing so lightly that it was infuriating. “stay, and i’ll make sure you never wanna leave.”

his words sent a jolt through you, and your heart raced as you pulled him down, closing the space between you, your lips finally crashing together. it was desperate, messy, all heat and need as his hand finally slipped beneath your panties, his fingers brushing against your core.

you gasped into his mouth, fingers digging into his shoulders as he swallowed every sound, his touch slow and deliberate, teasing you until you were writhing beneath him. “satoru,” you breathed, half a plea, half a warning.

"that’s it," he whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes filled with haughtiness. "say my name like that again."

"cocky bastard," you groaned, slipping out from under him before he could even react. he fell forward, catching himself with a surprised grunt, staring up at you from where you now stood by the couch.

"are we doing this or no?" you asked, tilting your head, arms crossed eyeing him.

he blinked, momentarily confused, still trying to catch up. "huh?"

you sighed dramatically your hands falling by your side. "bedroom," you said firmly, turning on your heel and grabbing your phone off the table. "i need to make a call."

satoru blinked again, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. “wait—hold on. did you just...?”

“bedroom,” you repeated over your shoulder, already walking away, but not before you caught the look on his face—one of pure disbelief and excitement.

he scrambled to his feet, eyes wide and mouth open in protest. “you can’t just drop a bomb like that and leave me hanging!” he called after you, voice tinged with desperation.

you chuckled to yourself as you pulled up your phone, ignoring his frantic footsteps behind you. “i’ll be there in a minute. try to behave,” you teased, your fingers already dialing a number.

"who are you even calling?" satoru whined, voice pitching higher as he trailed behind you.

you threw him a sidelong glance, barely containing the smile tugging at your lips. "just confirming something for tomorrow," you replied, keeping your tone casual as if your heart wasn’t pounding, knowing exactly how riled up he was getting.

his eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn’t stop following you, hovering dangerously close. "you’re evil, you know that?" he huffed, standing right at your back now, his breath warm against your neck. “talking about the bedroom and then pulling this—cruel, heartless.”

you didn’t bother answering, only giving him a small hum of acknowledgment as you leaned against the wall, your phone pressed to your ear.

he groaned dramatically again, leaning into you like dead weight. "fine," he grumbled, his lips brushing over the curve of your shoulder. "but when you hang up, you’re mine." his voice dropped to a low murmur, sending goosebumps across your skin.

you shot him a warning glance, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. "five minutes," you mouthed, but satoru wasn’t interested in waiting. he pressed closer, his hands wandering again, his lips trailing up to your neck.

your pulse quickened as you tried to focus on the conversation, but the heat of his body, his touch, made it nearly impossible. "satoru," you hissed softly, trying to sound stern, but your resolve was slipping fast.

"i’m being good," he murmured, though the way his lips tugged upwards said otherwise. his hands were anything but innocent, grazing over your body.

you shot him a look, raising your brow, silently challenging him to keep up the act.

he met your gaze with a wicked grin, eyes flashing with excitement. "two minutes," he whispered, "and then i’m not holding back."

you ended the call, fingers shaking with anticipation. "you’re such a menace," you muttered, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed the fact that you didn’t entirely mind.

he grinned, his hands slipping under your shirt once again to rest on your hips, tugging you flush against him. "i know," he hummed, clearly pleased with himself. "but you love me for it."

"you talk a big game, satoru," you sighed, trying to sound unimpressed even though your pulse was quickening.

"and i always deliver, don’t i?" he shot back, his smile widening as his hands slid higher, his touch sending sparks across your skin.

before you could come up with a retort, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. it started soft, teasing, but quickly deepened, pulling a soft gasp from your lips as you instinctively reached for him, threading your fingers through his hair. he kissed you like he had all the time in the world, like he enjoyed making you wait—drawing it out until you were breathless, clinging to him for more.

"still gonna make me wait?" he whispered against your lips.

you didn’t answer with words, just grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him towards the bedroom, the anticipation between you both sparking like wildfire.

“shut up,” you muttered without glancing back, fully aware of the stupid grin that was probably plastered on his face.

“didn’t say anything,” he quipped, but you could hear the smugness in his tone, the way he was practically vibrating with excitement. his hands found your waist again, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to remind you he was right there.

you rolled your eyes but kept walking, heart racing faster with each step toward the bedroom. “you don’t have to,” you shot back as you reached the door. you could feel him pressing behind you, his warmth radiating against your back.

“oh, trust me,” he whispered, voice low in your ear, “i’ve got plenty to say.”

you opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, the sunlight casting a soft, warm glow around the room. the sound of the door clicking shut sent a thrill through you, heightening the tension that had been simmering between you both.

you turned to face him, his pupils dilated as he took a step closer, closing the space between you. his hands hovered in the air, almost reaching out to you, but you tutted, swatting them away. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a mixture of surprise and desperation in his wide eyes.

“you’re not allowed to touch me,” you said, reveling at the look on his face.

“what?” he breathed, clearly caught off guard. “you can’t be serious.”

“dead serious,” you replied, a mischievous smile on your lips. “you promised to be good, didn't you?”

“this isn’t fair,” he whined, shifting from foot to foot, his body betraying the urge to move closer. you could see the struggle written all over his face as he fought against that impatience bubbling just beneath the surface.

“now, be a good boy. lie down on the bed and wait for me,” you instructed, savoring the way his breath quickened in response.

you turned your back on him, striding confidently toward the closet. the moment you stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind you, you could hear him groan and shift, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

you took a moment to breathe, letting the playful tension simmer as you quickly changed out of your office clothes. slipping into the delicate white lace lingerie. you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, knowing how much this would drive him wild. the fabric hugged your curves just right.

stepping out of the closet, you found him sprawled across the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. the sight made your breath hitch—he looked absolutely ravishing, the muscles in his body highlighted by sunlight streaming through the window. you could see how much he wanted you, the fabric of his boxers stretched tight over his cock, hinting at the desire that simmered just beneath the surface.

“enjoying the view?” you teased and his cheeks flush when you give him a 360.

“you have no idea,” he replied, his voice thick with need, the playful bravado melting away as he met your gaze. his eyes darkened, a mix of urgency and longing. “you look incredible.”

“thank you,” you said, stepping closer, enjoying the way he shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, the muscles in his arms flexing enticingly. “but you need to be reminded how to behave.” you proppped your hands on your hips.

he smirked, a glimmer of defiance in his eyes. “what if i don’t want to behave?”

“then you’ll have to face the consequences,” you replied with a casual shrug of your shoulder. 

“consequences?” he echoed. “what kind of consequences?” his brows furrowed.

“the kind that makes you wish you had listened to me,” you said, your voice low and sultry.

“fuck, you're so sexy,” he admitted out loud, unable to stop himself.

you smirked at his reaction, leaning in just a bit closer. “flattery won’t get you anywhere, satoru,” you teased, your breath ghosting over his skin.

with a playful grin, you straightened up and walked over to the chair in the corner of the room, your hips swaying with every step. you settled into the plush seat, crossing your legs as you turned to face him, enjoying the way his gaze followed you.

“this is what you would’ve gotten if you’d been good, satoru,” you said, running your hands slowly over your body, feeling the lace against your skin as you made a show of yourself.

his eyes narrowed, and you could see the tension in his jaw tighten as he watched you, his breathing becoming more labored. “you’re killing me,” he groaned, trying to restrain himself as he lay back against the bed.

“then maybe you should’ve thought about that before,” you teased, your voice light and airy. “a little patience would’ve gone a long way.”

“please,” he breathed, his tone desperate now, his fingers curling into the sheets. “just come back. i can’t take this.”

you parted your legs slightly, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you feigned nonchalance. “but look how cute you are, begging for me. i think i like this version of you, satoru,” you replied, your fingers tracing over the skin of your abdomen, lingering at the edge of your waistband.

“you’re such a brat,” he muttered, half-heartedly trying to mask the desperation in his voice.

“and yet, you’re the one squirming on the bed, aren’t you?” you shot back, your gaze locking onto his as you continued to toy with him. the air in the room felt electric, and you reveled in the way his eyes darkened, leaving a hint of blue.

you moved a hand between your thighs, your fingers grazing over your inner thighs, edging closer to your core. your other hand moved over your chest, as you watched him hold himself back on the bed.

“don’t,” he whispered, a warning lacing his voice.

you ignored him, moving a finger over the growing wetness in your panties, your breath hitching at the sensation. your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensation. before you could fully register what was happening, he was on you.

in an instant, satoru had crossed the distance, kneeling before you, his hands prying yours away from your body with a firm grip. “you can’t just tease me like that,” he growled, breathless, his blue eyes now burning into yours.

you let out a soft gasp, surprised by his sudden movement, but a thrill coursed through you at his possessiveness. “and why not?”

“because i want to be the one to make you feel good,” he said, his voice heated as he leaned in closer, the tension palpable between you. “let me take care of you. please.”

you considered giving in, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep inside you. but just as you hesitated, you saw the shift in his expression—how he leaned closer, his breath quickening as if he sensed your internal struggle.

“please,” he begged, the word spilling from his lips like a desperate prayer. “don’t do this to me. i need you.”

you could see the raw need etched across his face, his eyes pleading as they searched yours. he shifted closer, his hands gripping your thighs with a sense of urgency. “if you don’t want me to cum, i won’t,” he promised, his voice shaky. “but please… let me be the one to make you feel good. just give me that.”

before you could fully process it, his lips began moving from your feet, trailing kisses over your ankles, then up your calves, until he reached your inner thighs. his tongue flicked over your skin, humming at the taste of you, and every gentle caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“satoru,” you breathed, torn between the urge to maintain control and the overwhelming desire to let him take the lead.

“i want to worship you,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “let me make you feel good.”

he continued his journey, kissing his way up your thighs, each gentle press of his lips sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. with every soft kiss, you felt your resolve beginning to crumble. the desperation in his eyes ignited something deep within you—a hunger that matched his own.

“please,” he whispered again, his voice thick with need, “just let me take care of you.”

your heart raced, caught in the intensity of the moment. as you looked down at him, the weight of your decision settled in. surrendering felt like the only option now, and the thrill of it sent heat flooding through you. “okay…,” you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out as your heart raced with anticipation.

satoru's face lit up at your permission, and in an instant, he was leaning up to capture your lips in a kiss, passion intertwining as he pressed against you. his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tracing the ridges, exploring the warm, slick cavern of your mouth. the taste of you mingled with his, a heady mix that made you feel dizzy with desire.

saliva dripped from your lips as he broke the kiss, trailing soft, messy kisses down your jaw and over your neck. he lingered over your collarbone, leaving soft bites and kisses. he moved lower, his lips brushing against your chest, pausing to whisper, “i’ll be back,” before pressing a soft kiss over each breast, the warmth of his mouth sending tremors through you.

he continued his descent, kissing along your stomach, his tongue tracing a delicate path over your skin before he nipped at the soft flesh of your hip, a playful bite that made you gasp. he hooked your legs over the arms of the chair, exposing you to him completely, the world around you fades.

satoru's eyes darkened with desire as he took a moment to admire you, his gaze lingering over every curve and contour, making your skin prickle with anticipation. "you're so beautiful," he breathed, and warmth rushed to your cheeks. he leaned in closer, nipping at your skin, moving close to where you need him.

he gripped your hips, tugging you to the edge of the chair for better access, and you whined softly at the shift. his tongue moved over your panties excruciatingly slow. the fabric soaked up your arousal and every flick of his tongue sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, the sensation had you squirming in your seat.

“satoru,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him closer, desperate for more contact. he obliged, moving in with renewed vigor, his tongue pressing harder against you as he tasted you.

the heat from his mouth made your head spin. you could feel his breath mingling with your skin, creating a delicious warmth that left you aching for release.

“just like that,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, as he continued his ministrations, pushing you closer to the edge. he reveled in your reactions, and the way he pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you made your heart race.

“tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, before diving back in. you could hardly think straight, lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“more, satoru. please,” you begged, your body instinctively arching toward him, urging him on. his response was immediate; he moved your panties to the side, teasing two fingers into you. your walls swallowed him whole, welcoming the intrusion as you gasped at the sudden fullness.

“fuckin’ drenching me, sweet angel,” he groaned, his mouth moving over your nub, suckling as he worked his fingers in and out, each thrust eliciting a breathy whimper from you. he pressed his nose against your clit, moaning at the way you sounded, the vibrations reverberating through your body.

“you taste so good,” he murmured against you. each flick of his tongue combined with the curling of his fingers sent you spiraling closer to the edge, and you could feel the tension winding tighter, threatening to snap.

“satoru,” you gasped, the urgency in your voice rising as you neared your peak. you could see the hunger in his eyes as he looked up at you, the way he savored your every reaction.

“just let go for me, angel,” he urged, his voice low and coaxing, “i want to feel you come apart.”

the intensity of his gaze held you captive, and you felt your breath hitch as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure building within you.

“i’m—oh god, i’m gonna—” you cried out, your back arching as he continued his relentless ministrations, fingers curling deeper, thrusting in a perfect rhythm.

“that’s it, pretty, let it happen,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath teasing your sensitive skin.

“please, satoru, don’t stop,” you begged, feeling your body tighten, ready to let go. the combination of his mouth on you and his fingers was pulling you deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

“i won’t,” he promised, and with one final flick of his tongue, you tumbled over the edge, your cries of pleasure filling the room as your orgasm washed over you.

satoru’s eyes widened as you eased your feet off the arms of the chair, slowly sliding off your drenched panties. you grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back until he lay flat on the cool bedroom floor.

“your turn,” you declared as you straddled him, feeling his body tense beneath you.

“but I thought you weren’t going to...” he started, his voice laced with disbelief.

“after that orgasm, I’d give you anything you want,” you replied, a sultry smile gracing your lips as you leaned down closer to him.

he swallowed hard, his gaze flickering with longing. “anything?”

“anything,” you confirmed, trailing your fingers down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingertips.

“then please,” he breathed, “let me taste you again.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head playfully at his desperation. his pout quickly morphed into a breathless whine as you began to kiss down his body, planting soft kisses over his collarbone and savoring the feel of his skin beneath your lips. you could hear his breath hitch as your tongue teased his hardened nipple, flicking it a few times before you started to suck gently.

but just as you were about to go lower, he stopped you. with a sudden urgency, he pushed you back slightly so you could sit up, and a frown tugged at your lips.

“like this,” he said, shifting his position to lay against your knees, looking up at you with that familiar hungry glint in his eyes. he reached above him, tugging at your hips, urging you to sit over his face.

you obliged, positioning your legs on either side of him, your hands gripping his thighs for support. as you tugged down his boxers, he raised his hips to help you, revealing his leaky rosy-tinted tip, a vein throbbing along his length down to the base.

his hands found their way to the flesh of your ass, gripping it firmly as he brought you down over his face. “ride my face,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire from underneath you.

you felt his breath warm against your core as you lowered yourself, the anticipation making your heart race. your mouth felt hot as you pressed your lips against his tip, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you both. you could taste the saltiness of him, the heady essence that drove you wild.

“fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking up at the sensation. you pressed your lips harder against him, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, savoring the way he trembled beneath you. each flick drew more intoxicating sounds from his lips, and you could feel his grip on your ass tightening, urging you to move faster over his face.

encouraged by his responses, you began to take him deeper, your mouth sliding along his length in a steady rhythm. each descent made your heart pound louder, and the taste of him only spurred you on. his breath came in quick gasps, the sound making your pulse race.

as his tongue dipped inside you, your walls clenched around him instinctively, drawing him deeper. his eyes rolled back in pleasure, a low growl escaping his throat as he relished the warmth of your core and the sweet sensation of your mouth enveloping him. your movements became urgent, driven by the overwhelming need to bring him as much pleasure as he was giving you.

the taste of him filled your senses, intoxicating and addictive, pushing you to work harder. you could feel his moans reverberating through your body, each one spurring you on to take him deeper.

you could feel him growing harder, the weight of him heavy on your tongue as you worked to please him. just as he felt himself nearing, he halted you with a firm grip on your hips, pulling you to sit up.

“don’t make me cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “wanna be inside you when i do.”

“then let’s not waste any more time,” you replied breathlessly, repositioning yourself and moving to straddle him. you grabbed a hold of his pulsing cock, aligning it with your dripping core.

you lowered yourself onto him, feeling the delicious stretch as he filled you completely. a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing the sensation of him filling you up as you sank down. you could feel each inch of his throb inside you, spreading you to fit him snugly.

his breath hitched, and a low groan escaped his lips as you settled in, the warmth and fullness making you dizzy with pleasure. your bodies molded together perfectly, it almost ethereal.

he suddenly sat up, pulling you in closer as your head fell back. the angle shifted, and you let out a cry of pleasure, feeling him press deeper inside you.

“so perfect for me,” he mumbled, his breath warm against your skin as he buried his face in your neck. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he began to buck upward, filling you completely with each thrust.

“satoru,” you gasped, the pleasure blurring your thoughts as you surrendered to the rhythm of your bodies. the only word you could utter was his name; the only thought in your head was the intoxicating feel of him inside you. the sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathless moans, echoing through the room like a beautiful melody.

“i can’t get enough of you,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he thrust deeper, his voice thick with need. “just like this… you feel so good wrapped around me.”

with a sudden movement, he pushed you to lay flat on your back, and you couldn’t help but whine as he slipped out for a brief moment.

“i’ve got you, sweet girl,” he whispered tenderly, his gaze softened as his eyes locked onto yours, filled with affection. with a single push, he slid back inside you, the sensation of his cock stretching you again pulling a breathless, whiny moan from your lips.

“fuck,” he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting you like he couldn’t get enough. the kiss was desperate—wet and feverish, saliva mingling as your tongues tangled together, lips slipping against each other in a frenzied rhythm. 

he slowed down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath warm and shaky. with a soft kiss to your forehead, he whispered, “you’re so beautiful like this.”

with a sudden surge of strength, satoru shifted, pulling your legs up over his shoulders, folding you beneath him. the change in position arched your back off the floor, making you dig your nails into his shoulder as he pressed in deeper, hitting spots that made you cry out.

his hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he began thrusting again, slow and deep at first, savoring the way your body tightened around him. “look at that,” he murmured, a heated grin plastered on his face, “you’re taking me so well, baby.”

he changed the position again, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling you closer as he leaned down to pay attention to your tits, just as he promised. his mouth found your sensitive nipples, kissing and sucking with an insatiable lust.

he wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling you closer as he leaned down to pay attention to your tits, just as he promised. his mouth found your sensitive nipples, and you could feel the warmth of his breath sending tingles across your skin. “i’m back, my sweet girls,” he whispered against your chest.

his tongue swirled around your sensitive peaks, drawing soft whimpers from your lips as you felt his fingers trail up your body. he slipped one digit into your mouth, and you sucked eagerly, your tongue swirling around his finger, tasting him while he watched with hungry eyes, your boob nestled between his lips.

he pulled his finger from your mouth with a soft pop, the sound echoing. he moved his finger down to your clit, teasingly drawing circles around the sensitive bud.

the combination of his deep thrusts and the pressure on your clit had you moaning helplessly. “satoru,” you gasped, your body arching into him as the pleasure built inside you. the way his cock plunged against that sweet spot, the relentless circles of his finger on your clit, and his tongue teasing your nipples—all of it overwhelmed you, pushing you past the edge.

“that’s it, my baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “let go for me.”

the tension inside you snapped, waves of ecstasy crashing through your body. your walls clenched tightly around him as your orgasm ripped through you, and a breathless cry escaped your lips. satoru groaned, feeling you come undone beneath him, the intensity of your release pushing him over the edge as well.

his release spilled into you, warm and thick, the white ropes of his cum filling you completely. his lips crashed onto yours, swallowing your moans in a desperate, messy attempt at a kiss. it was hungry and uncoordinated, your breaths intertwining in a chaotic rhythm.

you felt him pulse inside you and you instinctively clenched around him, savoring every drop he gave you.

you pulled back slightly, gazing into his eyes, and in that moment, if he had asked you to quit your job and keep doing this, you would have said yes.

“that was…” you started, searching for the right words.

“incredible,” he finished for you, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he brushed a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “told you i’d make it worth your while,” he added. the cockiness in his tone made you laugh softly.

A/N: i miss my satorupie 😔 counting this as an unofficial kinktober piece because it’s october 1st in some parts of the world 🙈

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[gay-dorito-dust]

This idea is so funny that i couldn't keep it to myself, imagine if stanford wife/husband/spouse is constantly followed by the gnomes and they always try to kidnapp his s/o, probably ford had to tell the gnomes to fuck off every time and is like "i know they're beautyfull BUT THEY'RE MINE"

After going on a recent anomaly hunt with your husband Ford, you’ve begun to noticed that something or someone might’ve followed you back to the shack.

‘Shmebulock.’

A gnome was standing in your shadow and the moment you looked him in the eye, you swore his pupils became hearts and a dopey smile crept across his bearded face as he fidgeted with his hands almost sheepishly.

‘So you’re the one who’s been following me?’ You asked.

‘Shmebulock.’ Replied Shmebulock as he averted his eyes from yours and down to his shoes.

‘Is Shmebulock your name or?’

‘Shmebulock.’

‘Okay.’ You said as you saw Ford come back out the shack when he saw you didn’t follow him, but before he could ask what was keeping you, his eyes were quick to notice the gnome by your feet and quickly outs his hand on your waist protectively.

‘Oh no, you’re not taking my wife/husband/spouse!’ Ford says to the gnome who glared up at him the moment he heard his voice.

‘Shmebulock!’ The gnome shouts back as he steps closer to you, touching your shoe with his hand, all the while glaring at your husband. You didn’t know whether to laugh or consider getting Ford therapy for picking a fight with a guy who barely reached past his ankle. Ford didn’t often show protectiveness nor possessiveness unless he thought you were in danger and needed to step in to take whoever’s eyes were on you.

Ford the suddenly kneels until he was at eye level with the bearded gnome, holding your hand tightly in his six fingered one as though he was scared of letting you go. ‘No. You’re not stealing them to be your gnome king/queen/royalty. End of discussion.’ Shmebulock’s glare only worsened as he shouted ‘SHMEBULOCK!’ Before kicking Ford in the shoe and ran off back deep into the woods;Thinking that he won the dispute, Ford gets up to his full height, kisses you on the forehead before ushering you back into the lonely shack before locking the door behind him.

‘What was that?’ You asked him.

‘A gnome.’ Ford replied and you looked at him unamused.

‘I know that was a gnome Ford, I meant what the hell was that back there between the two of you?’ You asked as you watched him cross the room and head straight towards his journal to scribble something down before moving back to you to hold you by the arms.

‘He got addicted to your beauty and is now probably telling the rest of the gnome populous that he has found them a new ruler.’ Ford tells you straightforwardly as you looked at him with wide eyes.

‘What?! You mean-‘

‘Yes they’re going to try to marry you…all of them.’ Ford replies as he watches you look back towards the door and shudder at the thought of having to marry millions of ankle sized men and women. You didn’t want to think about what happened to the previous rulers or what would happen if they didn’t find their current ruler beautiful anymore to be their leader if they’re that shallow when it comes to appearances. ‘You should’ve drop kicked him.’ You tell Ford who only chuckled a she brought you into his arms, kissing your forehead repeatedly as you melted into his warm, comforting embrace.

‘Trust me, I had to fight the urge to do so the minute he touched your shoe.’ Ford whispered against your forehead, making you smile at the thought of Ford drop kicking a gnome just because he touched your shoe.

‘Do you know how to stop them?’ You asked, waiting for the reassuring answer that you knew would await you.

‘No, I don’t I’m still trying to figure that out.’ Ford answered.

Well that wasn’t exactly reassuring but how much trouble could a bunch of gnomes could possible pose?

Apparently you were bound to find out sooner rather then later as later that night. You had awoken to the sound of many, many little voices and scurrying across the wooden floor of your shared room with Ford, only to find that an small group of gnomes had somehow managed to break into the shack and had begun tying up your legs and arms to your side so you couldn’t move or kick them. You had caught the eye of Shmebulock, the gnome from earlier that morning that Ford wanted to dropkick, and he was quick to alert the other gnomes that their future ruler had awoken earlier than expected; apparently they thought Ford’s snores was yours…how charming.

‘They’re awake!’ One of the gnomes shouted and they were quick to start pulling you off of the bed by the restraints on your legs.

‘Ford.’ You whisper shouted. Nothing, the man slept like a log after spending the entire day anomaly hunting.

‘Ford!’ You yelled as the gnomes managed to drag you halfway across the bedroom at this point, your yell only made Ford scrunch his face and readjust his sleeping position. ‘FORD!’ You exclaimed louder this time and it jolted the sweet scientist awake as he blearily blinked while reaching out to touch your side of the bed, gasping when he couldn���t feel you and managed to catch sight of your unamused expression as you were being dragged out of the room by the gnomes. ‘Oh now you wake up?’ You said all too calmly for a captive.

‘Now is not the time for that my dear.’ Ford replied as he was quick to grab two gnomes and throw them out of the window, before dropkicking Shmebulock like he promised he would and some other gnomes out of the shack with ease. ‘There’s always time to talk about that my sweet.’ You replied as Ford helped you out of your restraints and just helped you to his chest as he glared at the retreating gnomes, just as their tiny legs carried them back into the forest in fear of what he’d do to them for almost successfully kidnapping his wife/husband/spouse.

‘Are you alright my love?’ Ford questioned as he peppered your face in kisses.

‘I’m fine my dearest, sure kidnapping wasn’t on my list of things to happen in my life, but I’m sure I would’ve been more frightened had the people who kidnapped me weren’t easily disposed of.’ You chuckled as you enjoyed the affection that Ford was giving you, while deciding to give him some of his own by kissing his cheek and across his jawline and neck sweetly.

‘Only you would joke about being kidnapped by Gnomes my dear.’ Ford sighs but smiles softly as he brings you back to bed, where he manages to keep you in his arms the entire night, only having to kick Shmebulock once before trapping the gnome under a glass, and then placed upon a high surface that he couldn’t get down without hurting himself in the process all the while Ford tucked you further into his chest as a silent display to the gnomes that you were happily taken by this man of science.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

grateful [ five hargreeves x reader ]

“Fancy seeing you here,” You crossed your arms, trying to act natural as the boy before you eyes you curiously.

“In front of the CIA headquarters?” Five mimicked your posture, “Jee, Y/N, fork spotted in the kitchen. What are you doing at my work place?”

You sighed, trying to fight back the urge of rolling your eyes. You were lying to yourself if you wanted to say that Five’s sarcasm actually annoyed you. After all, it was one of the traits you loved about him- surprisingly. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but even if you were actually waiting for him to talk business, you never once missed an opportunity to meet him.

Especially if you weren’t surrounded by your noisy family. The Hargreeves siblings became your family by choice, and as much as you loved each and every single one of them, you couldn’t help but appreciate deeply the one on one time you got to spend with Five.

“I just got off the phone with Luther,” You said, putting your hands in your pockets, “Viktor got kidnapped, Five.”

As soon as those words eat your lips, you saw Five’s expression go from cocky to shocked, to worried and then to shocked once again. You hated you had to be the one to break these news to him, after six years of peace where all of you managed to live normal lives. You hated that you had to see him worried again for his family’s safety, but you had no other choice.

You all had to reunite to save your loved one.

“I’ll drive,” Five nodded, already realizing that the gang would have to get back together.

You and Five met during the JFK mission in 1963, when both of you were working for the Commission. You only heard of him around the work place, but never actually worked together. The Handler assigned you both for the first time to get the assassination done, but one thing led to another and you accidentally woke up in 2019, in your teen body, alongside him.

The rest is history.

As you got into his car, you watched him as he started the engine in silence. He was deep into thought, obviously worried half to death about his brother. You were as well, since Viktor was his first sibling you warmed up to, and honestly it felt surreal that he was in danger again, after six years.

Six years where nothing, and quite literally nothing out of the ordinary happened. After your third attempt at stopping the apocalypse and the Hargreeves losing their powers, you all moved on with your lives, keeping in touch now and then. All nine of you went separate ways, rebuilding your lives. Allison was back to acting, Klaus was finally sober, Diego and Lila were a family with kids, Viktor was running a bar and Luther was working somewhat as an astronaut. Key word, somewhat.

Five became a CIA agent and you were running a marketing agency, so you really only saw the family on holidays or random gatherings. You and him kept in touch the most. You were happy to say that he was your best friend, but sad that nothing more went on. If you were supposed to be together, you would have been by now.

After all, there was this drunken kiss you shared on the night of Luther’s wedding.

“Shut the fuck up, Hargreeves!” You giggled, pointing a finger m at him, “I respect Delores, I swear I do, but I do not understand why in the world she would put up with your ding dong face, honestly.”

“Oh, spare me the reverse psychology in which your jealousy lays, Y/N,” Five smirked, softly waving away your finger in his face.

You were the only ones left on the dance floor, intoxicated over the safe limit. After the whole family went to sleep, the two of you were still left quite energized. You didn’t know if it was because you were sixty year olds back in your teen bodies, or simply too drunk to realize how hyperactive you were, but you were not about to end the night any time soon.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Five, but he definitely could write an entire book of how he grew feelings for you. It all happened at such a slow pace, how could he not? When he first met you in 1963 at the Dealey Plaza, he was immediately taken aback by your quick wit and intellect. He also didn’t think someone who looked so sweet and elegant, like the grandma who would take her grandchildren all the time to fancy restaurants and then bake fresh cookies for them at home, could also be a trained assassin, ready to fight off three people at once wearing dresses and heels.

It was love at first sight for him.

Then, when you kept Delores safe from Hazel and Cha Cha, he realized just how big your heart was. He was completely blown away by the way you held onto the mannequin with one arm, while dodging attacks incoming from both of them.

There was also this moment in 1963 when you held him in your arms after he went on a spree, taking out the entire board of the Commission.

He was so infatuated with every single action of yours, so deeply and intensely in love it was actually pathetic to him, to some degree. Now, as his hands were firmly gripping your waist, swaying your hips in sync to the melody on the speakers, all he wanted to do was feel your lips on his, for a first and last time.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, as your arms were wrapped around his neck. You didn’t know when you got so close to one another, it was all just so natural.

“Ironically enough, you,” He scoffed, making you roll your eyes;

“Only you could make such a romantic comment and at the same time make me want to stomp on your face, Five,” You said amused, shaking your head in disbelief.

Five laughed, looking into your eyes. In his drunken state, he was not thinking rationally as he usually did anymore. He didn’t know for certain if he’d make it out of the apocalypse this time, and after the two attempts at saving the world, the regret of not tasting you was finally getting to him.

He moved his hands up your sides, resting them on your cheeks at last. Rubbing your face gently, Five leaned in to capture your lips, tasting the alcohol you shared all night. You were relieved to finally feel his touch you so deeply craved over the months spent together, pulling him even closer, as if that was possible.

That led to nowhere, unfortunately, as neither of you ever mentioned it again. Like little stupid kids, all these years you both assumed that the other didn’t remember that part, since no one ever brought it up ever again.

“Viktor will be fine, Five,” You broke the silence, watching as his knuckles turned white while gripping the steering wheel, waiting for the green light.

“I just forgot how fucking stressful all this shit was,” Five sighed, letting go, but not looking at you yet, “So stupid.”

“Hey,” You placed a hand on top of his, “We will rescue him and go back to our lives before, okay? Who knows, maybe it’s not even that serious- maybe it’s just some misunderstanding or a real easy mission. We stopped the apocalypse three times, I think some amateur kidnapping will be a walk in the park, okay? Besides, maybe by the time we get there, Viktor will have already handed their asses to each other.”

Five scoffed amused. You did always manage to be the voice of reason in his life whenever the over-thinking got the best of him.

You didn’t have any idea just how grateful he was for you.

[star-har]

nightmares

| satoru gojo x reader | fluff |

gojo is dreaming - at least he thinks he is. it all feels too real; the weight of your collapsing body in his arms as you cripple to the floor; the warm gush of blood leaking from your side, staining gojo's skin like a nightmare; the sound of your heart coming to a dull throb where he presses his fingers to your pulse.

"stay with me, baby," he whispers into your hair, dragging your nearly limp body down where you're concealed from prying, dangerous eyes.

"you can do it, stay with me."

"is everything okay?" you barely manage to speak around the knot in your throat, clutching onto gojo's shirt like a lifeline.

the sheen in your eyes tells gojo you already know what's happening. knows your heart hasn't stopped because of gojo's lips on your skin. but you remain in denial, searching gojo's gaze for confirmation that you'll be okay.

"you're okay," gojo mutters immediately, quick to comfort the frantic look crossing your face as you turn to look at your bleeding side. "fuck— you're okay." he's not sure who he's talking too; the raging voice in his head or the love of his life draining away without him.

he tries to hold them in— the tears. digs his teeth hard into the inside of his cheek to drive the burn behind his eyes elsewhere- anywhere. but god is it difficult to maintain his composure, with you like this.

"i'm not going to die, right?" you whisper the words, tone desperate and hopeless, silently urging gojo to meet your stare.

"no- no." he says the words firmly, as if the mere thought of you living today will manifest this reality to diverge it's path. but even then, gojo can only hold in so much. "fuck, no baby. you're going to be just fine— just hold on. nanami will be here soon, just please—"

the first tear falls when gojo meets your stare, defeated and utterly devastated to find the previous presence of fear and despair vanquish from your eyes.

instead, gojo finds understanding. understanding as you come to terms with what's happening, come to terms that this will likely be the last time you'll ever see your husband's face again because nanami is still fighting the special grade, hands full. he won't be able to help.

and gojo hates it. he loathes it. how you've accepted your fate before gojo can even comprehend what's at hand- your beautiful life.

"stop— stop looking at me like that. please." he begs, turning to bury his face into your neck. he doesn't want you to see him cry, not now- not when this may be your last... "stay with me. please. don't leave me, baby. you're all I have left."

he chants the words like a mantra, urging the universe to hear his pleas, begging to the gods he'd never cared for to save the one person who made his life worth living.

it's hopeless, he knows this. but he can't help it.

"it's okay, "toru," you whisper with a smile, a hand sliding in his hair to urge him to meet your gaze.

"everything's going to be fine. don't worry."

he believes you. every single limb in his body does. you could tell him the world was ending and he wouldn't hesitate a second before shipping you off of earth. you could tell him that he was dying and he'd spend the last few expecting minutes kissing you for however much time he could.

it's only natural his body responds this way— because you're you.

but fuck— it hurts. hurts because everything in him is screaming it won't be okay, but he can't show you that.

not when you were always being okay for him.

so he only holds you close, peppering kisses into your hair before your heart manages to wring its last few beats.

ーーー

gojo snaps awake with a gasp, throwing himself abruptly out of bed as he clutches his sweat-drenched shirt, fisting the fabric to his chest as he attempts to calm his racing heart.

a dream— that's all it was. right?

he reaches for you across the bed, seeking the warmth of your body and the steady thrum of your heart— only to be met with cold.

your side of the bed is empty, sheets ruffled - cold.

"baby?" he climbs out of bed, being met with utter silence.

he stands there for a moment, clutching his fists by his side, silently urging for any sign of you to present itself - a floorboard creak, the soft hum to a song as you prepare tea, your cat's paws scratching the floor as it follows you aimlessly in your wake.

nothing. not a sound.

usually, gojo likes the quiet. likes warming up with you on the couch as he dozes off with you reading on his chest, likes brushing your hair as you sleep soundly - that's the only quiet he can stand.

his heart crashes to a halt, a ringing sound reverberating through his ears, growing louder with each repetition. the walls seem to squeeze him in, trapping him inside.

it had felt so real, his supposed dream, that he begins second guessing himself. he's always confused dream with reality, once waking up from one with your baby sleeping in his arms to find with a break of his heart she had never existed. it felt so real, so gutting- like now.

it was a dream— it had to be. it was. because fuck

-

"toru?"

your voice — that's you.

his gaze flies from his shaking hands to find you at the doorway, frowning up at him, your cat purring soundly in your arms, asleep.

gojo acts quickly. in two, long strides, he's got you in his arms, tucking your frame into his chest and away from the rest of this cruel, undeserving world.

"satoru?" your voice drips in worry, your cat clambering away from your embrace before you return his hug with your own desperation to learn the reason behind your husband's abrupt reaction. "what's wrong, love?"

gojo shakes his head slightly against your neck, finding the consistent beat of your heart against his chest like an angel's melody to his soul.

"just stay-" his voice shakes, wrapping you too him impossibly closer, heart to heart. "don't you ever leave, y/n."

you realise quickly what's happened- gojo knows this because of how you're hand has fallen beneath his shirt, gliding your smooth palm along his back in comforting circles, smoothing fingers over the scars that lay there.

he knows you, more than he ever could anyone else. knows the slightest shift in your voice means you're upset, knows when you walk slower it's because you haven't slept.

knows when you come to trace his scars, it's because you want to ground him. want to show that you're real— you're here and you're not leaving.

"I'm here, 'toru," you whisper into his shirt, placing a kiss where your mouth meets his shoulder. "i'm never leaving. never."

he hums a weak mhm into your body. "promise?"

"oh, baby," you whisper. "of course. you could never make me leave. love you too much too do that. promise."

he believes it. every limb in his body does. it's only natural.

after all— you're the one truth that gojo finds won't ever fail him.

[lithium80writer]

The Pact: Eddie Munson one shot

⚠️explicit sexual content. 18+. Minors DNI ⚠️

Summary: As children, you and Eddie made a pact to never cross that line. But as the two of you have grown it has become almost impossible to keep. You decide to make a new pact instead. ;)

*******

“Eddie!” you knock loudly on the door of his trailer. His van is here so he’s gotta be home.

“Eds?!” you try again, banging on the door even louder. You shuffle your feet, your converse kicking up dust from the porch as you wait impatiently for any sign of Eddie.

He’s probably still sleeping. The boy doesn’t wake up earlier than noon, especially on a Saturday.

You close the screen door and make your way around the trailer to his bedroom window. It’s cracked slightly and the smell of weed immediately hits your nose, making you smile. He’s up.

You push up on the old window, listening to the squeak as it struggles to move. “Eddie!” you shout through the crack. Again, no response.

You roll your eyes as you use all your strength to lift the window enough to crawl through. You climb in head first and tumble onto his floor. As you sit up, your eyes adjust to the dim room. You see him lying on his back on the floor, headphones on his ears, his fingers tapping away as he listens to his music.

No shirt, his tattoos on full display. Hair pulled back into a messy bun, loose curls sticking out everywhere. A pair of dark green flannel pajama pants hanging low on his waist.

Fuck, he looks good.

You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, inhaling on a joint, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. You tiptoe across the floor, hearing the tune of ‘Dirty Women’ by Black Sabbath coming from the headset as you lean over him.

His already round eyes widen even more as he notices you. He sits up quickly, his head slamming into yours, making you stumble to the ground.

“Shit! Y/n, are you okay?” he shouts over the music still blasting in his ears. You sit up on your knees, reaching out with one hand removing his headphones, leaving them dangling around his neck as you rub your forehead with your other.

“Easy Tiger.” you giggle and he grins a crooked smile at you. His eyes are glossed over and slightly red from his activities.

“Sorry, didn't hear you comin’.” he explains, pointing towards the earphones, his hooded eyes glinting playfully.

“Yeah, I got that.” you shove his shoulder lightly and he scoots a little closer to you.

“Thought you were coming by tonight?” he raises an eyebrow as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. You grab his hand and he pulls you from the ground.

“My shift got canceled and I was bored.” you shrug, reaching out for the joint in his hand.

“I have an idea.” Eddie says suddenly, his brown eyes sparkling. You inhale deeply on the joint and wait for him to continue. He stands there silently, eyes zoning in on your chest.

“Eddie!” you smack him upside the head bringing him out of his daze and he shakes his wild hair.

“Sorry.. I’m high.” he shrugs with a little wiggle of his brows.

“Your idea?” you remind him gently.

“Right.. the clubhouse. Let’s hotbox.” A slick smile spreads on his pretty lips. Every time you’re together, you have to fight the urge to kiss him. To touch him. To beg him to touch you.

You had both made a pact. An oath. You were best friends. You couldn’t cross that line. But now.. every year got harder and harder to keep it.

I wonder if he feels the same.

“Y/n?”

“Mhmm.. yeah. Let’s go.” you grin at him and his smile widens. He walks over to his nightstand swiping up his little metal lunchbox.

You make your way outside, following the familiar trail into the woods behind the trailer park. You used to come here all the time together. Staying up, eating bags of candy and telling scary stories until Wayne would come and drag you both out.

You reach the rickety ladder leading high into the trees and glance over at Eddie, a nervous look on your face.

“When’s the last time you’ve been up here? It looks… well, it looks like we’re gonna die if we attempt this.”

“Oh, we’re fine. Come on. You first.” he encourages, his hand landing on your waist. The small touch sends tingles down your spine.

“Why do I have to go first?” you groan, grabbing hold of the wooden plank.

“That way I can catch you if you fall.” he explains, keeping his hand resting gently on your side.

You take a deep breath and begin your climb. “Shit!” you squeal as your foot slips on the third step and you fall into Eddie, his free hand lands on your ass, holding you up.

“Oops.” you laugh, turning to peek at Eddie. His hand remains in place making you blush. “Eds?” you nod towards his hand and he just smiles lazily.

“Total accident. Swear.” he cheeses. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. He’s flirting. Shit no… He always flirts. It’s just friendly banter. Normal for the two of you. But is that all it is? Fuck.

You continue up the ladder, Eddie following close behind until you reach the top. You push the Spider-Man sheet to the side and crawl into the small treehouse. Everything looks about the same. A few new additions since the last time you’ve been here.

An ashtray sits in the corner, a stack of playboy and hustler magazines sprawled out, some empty beer bottles. “Eddie Munson..” you giggle, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

Eddie plops on the dusty floor reaching out and snagging one of the magazines. “What? A man has needs.”

“Ew.” you joke, grabbing his lunchbox, plopping a pre rolled joint between your lips.

“What? You don’t uh, take care of yourself?”

The question catches you off guard. But even more than that, his tone. It was much deeper than before. You hope your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel as you meet his gaze. You light the joint, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke in your lungs a moment before exhaling.

“No, I do.” you whisper, taking another toke. Eddie watches you curiously, scooting a little closer to you in the already cramped space.

“You gonna share?” he winks at you making your heart flutter. He’s so close. All I want is to taste him. To finally give in.

“Hey, you okay?” Eddie nudges you playfully with his foot, shaking you from your thoughts. You nod sitting up on your knees in between his sprawled legs. You bring the joint to his lips and his eyes lock on yours as he inhales slowly.

You inch closer, the slight buzz from the weed making you more confident.

“Are you about to kiss me?” Eddie blurts making you pause.

“What? No.” you snort shoving his chest hard, making him fall back to the dirty floor. He coughs, the smoke filling his lungs coming out in small spurts as you move back to your spot against the wall, feeling a wild mix of emotions.

He scrambles to get back up, immediately coming to sit in front of you again. “I- uh- I wasn’t gonna stop you.. if you were going to… ya know?” he mumbles under his breath.

You meet his big brown eyes, the same eyes you’ve looked into for years and years. There was no mistaking it. They were darker. Full of a hunger. A hunger for you.

Shit.. say something. Anything. Your mind goes blank. Every part of you wanting to just kiss him. The other part of you worried about your friendship. The whole reason the two of you made the pact.

“The pact..” you breathe.

Eddie nods slowly, keeping his dark eyes on you. Neither of you speak for a moment, the silence making you wonder if he was upset with your answer. Does he really want to kiss me? Does he want more? Eddie speaks up first, leaning back slightly, twisting one of his rings on his finger.

“Who do you think about when you touch yourself, y/n?” he burns lowly, his eyes searching your face carefully.

“W-What?” you choke out.

“Who do you think about?” he asks again, his eyes remain locked on yours, his tone firm.

You. Always you.

You shrug instead, keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Eddie nods, taking another long puff off the joint before handing it your way. The small area was already cloudy with smoke as you both continue to add to the haze.

“It’s not like we made a blood oath or something.” Eddie continues after a few minutes. Both of you now feeling the effects of the high.

“We literally made a blood oath.” you argue, a smile on your lips as you think back to the two of you pricking your fingers with a thumb tack.

“We were thirteen.” Eddie pushes back, moving over so he’s sitting right next to you. You can feel his body warmth radiating against your side. When you turn his face is only inches from yours.

“Where is this coming from?” you whisper, your eyes falling to his lips continuously no matter how hard you tried to avoid it.

“I just.. fuck, I don’t know. Just, look at you.” Eddie breathes out, his words making your entire body warm.

“Who do you think about?” you ask suddenly.

“I don’t know what you mean.” he grins widely, forcing you to ask him directly.

“When you touch yourself.. do you just think about those girls in the magazine?”

“Sometimes.. sometimes I think of someone else.” he hints as his hand gradually makes its way to your thigh.

“Me?” you swallow hard, barely pushing the word out.

“Do you think about me?” he challenges, his hand resting heavily on your upper thigh.

“Yes.” you admit. You knew it wasn’t the drugs. You’ve always wanted Eddie. But the buzz was allowing you to finally speak your truth.

You can tell he’s happy with your answer, his face lighting up. His brown eyes gleaming.

“Show me.”

“I don’t under-”

“Show me what you do when you think about me.” he cuts you off swiftly.

Holy shit. Your mind fills with wild thoughts as you take what he said into consideration. You can feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Touching yourself in front of him. Eddie’s eyes watching you as you bring yourself to your peak. Would he touch himself too?

Before you can change your mind you guide your hands into your shorts, listening as Eddie inhales sharply.

“Fuck..” he exhales, watching carefully as your hand meets your warmth under the material of your shorts. You close your eyes, worried that if you see him you might overthink everything. Right now it just felt good. So good.. and you know he’s watching.

“I close my eyes..” you start, slowly rubbing circles around your clit. Eddie hums in response, waiting for you to keep going.

“And I see your face. I- I think about how your lips would feel.. your tongue.. the sounds you would make…” you moan as you slip two fingers inside, feeling your arousal.

“What else?” Eddie rasps, his lips suddenly against your ear, his voice makes you speed up your fingers.

“I think about how you would feel inside me.. if you would be rough.. if you would.. ohh.. if you would make me scream..”

“I promise I could make you scream, y/n..” Eddie burns. You feel his fingers on your chin, turning you to face him. Your eyes drift open and Eddie presses his forehead against yours as you work your fingers in and out of your soaked pussy. Your lips so close that they brush his when you speak again.

“I think about your fingers a lot… your rings.. I pretend my hands are yours..” you whimper, feeling yourself on the edge but not quite there. You don’t want your fingers. You want his.

You see the same want all over his face as you bring yourself closer and closer.

“Eddie..” You let out a little gasp, his lips part with yours as his breathing speeds up.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he encourages you, his husky tone something you’ve only imagined in your dreams.

“I want you.. I want you to make me cum..” you whine desperately, only seconds away from your orgasm.

“Yeah?” he pants breathlessly.

“Please..” you beg. He wastes no time reaching into your shorts, you remove your fingers just in time for his to replace them. His slender fingers immediately reach exactly where you need them to, curling with precision, stroking across your g spot making you cum instantly.

“Yes! Y-yes!” you cry, your muscles pulsing around his fingers, Eddie watches in awe as you fall apart beneath his hand.

“Holy fuck..” Eddie groans deeply, slowly working you through your orgasm. Your cum covering his hand, the filthy sounds of your slick making his cock rock hard.

You grab him, slamming your lips into his pulling a moan from him instantly. He leans in, his body pressing you down to the floor as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Fuck.

He tastes like weed and Camel Blues as his tongue greets yours hungrily. You both kiss sloppily, soaking up this moment. After all these years, both of you finally getting what you want.

Clothes are torn off. No more hesitation as you both paw at each other, kissing and biting, the eagerness apparent from both of you. Moans and the sound of messy kisses fill the room.

“Fuck me..” you plead with him as your bodies grind together, skin on skin, so close together.

“We need a new pact..” he pants breathlessly, lining himself up.

“Mhmm.” you moan, feeling his tip start to stretch you out.

“The new pact is that You’re mine.” he burns as he thrusts himself in, entering you fully, a filthy cry raining from your lips.

“I’m yours.” you moan, your fingernails digging into his back as he begins to pump in and out of you.

“We have to seal it, sweetheart.” he mumbles drunkenly, picking up his pace. His size unlike anything you’ve had before, your legs already shaking slightly, a tinge of pain mixed with the beautiful pleasure.

“What do you- oh!” you gasp as his teeth sink into your bottom lip just hard enough to break the skin. You feel the trickle of warm liquid dribble down your chin.

“Shit..” you breathe out before returning the favor, taking Eddie’s plump lip between your teeth and tugging roughly making him growl as he slams his cock into you.

“Goddamn, baby.” he groans, kissing your lips, gliding his tongue inside. A metallic taste fills your mouth as your tongues swirl together wildly, your blood mixing together in your kiss.

“Call me baby again.” you whimper, rolling your hips, grinding on his big cock. He feels so fucking good.

Eddie chuckles bringing his lips to your ear as he fucks you powerfully. His cock glides in and out of your slickness, the sounds loud in the quiet of the woods.

“You like being my baby?” he murmurs in your ear.

“Yes!”

“You feel so fucking good.. so fucking good.” he praises, entering you deeply with every snap of his hips. Your head falls to the wooden floor as your back begins to arch.

“There we go, sweetheart..” Eddie hums approvingly as your thighs begin to tremble.

He keeps himself buried deep, rolling into you, his thick cock filling you to the brim. He thrusts into you precisely, finding your sweet spot making your toes curl.

“Eddie! R-right there!” you whimper, the pleasure of someone fucking you right for the first time was unlike anything you’d felt before. You didn’t know sex could feel this good. “Right there, Eds.” you plead again, so afraid he was going to move, or stop but he didn’t. He kept going at the perfect tempo, his long cock pressing into your soft spot driving you insane.

“Gonna take care of you, sweetheart.. I got you.” Eddie reassures, keeping his pace, in and out, in and out. His lips lock onto your neck sucking harshly. You grip the back of his head, holding him to you, the feeling of his lips sucking your skin felt delicious. His fingers meet your clit, quickly rubbing circles on the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll.

“Please don’t stop… I think.. I think I’m gonna..”

“Cum for me, y/n.” Eddie demands in your ear sending you over the edge. You pull his hair roughly as your body jolts upward, your pussy clenching around him, spasm after spasm as you flood his cock.

“E-Eddie! Ohh my god.. f-fuck!” you practically scream, Eddie loving every second of you writhing beneath him. Watching as you make a mess of his cock. You can feel your cum coating your thighs as he continues to pound into you.

His hands tangle in your hair as his lips meet yours feverishly. Your entire body is overwhelmed as you cling to him, it’s almost too much but you don’t want it to end. He lifts your leg onto his shoulder, the new angle making you gasp.

“You’re so fucking hot..” Eddie moans, the sounds coming from him are everything you imagined they’d be. Even better.

“We’re gonna cum together.” Eddie orders as he leans down, taking your leg with him, his hard cock somehow reaching deeper.

“Together..” you whimper, feeling him stretch you out again and again. He speeds up, slamming into you wildly, your legs shake as you grasp for him, wanting him to be as close as possible. He leans down even more, you feel the strain of your leg muscles as he bends you in ways unknown to you before. He sinks his teeth into your neck making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your nails claw at his back, sending red streaks across his tattoos.

“Gonna cum… wanna cum inside you..” he mumbles, his hips moving at an insane pace.

“Cum inside me, baby.” you moan, completely losing all sense of anything but him as he fucks you senseless. A few more hard thrusts and you feel his cock twitch, his warm cum spilling into you as he moans your name. You feel yourself come undone once again, your cum mixing with his.

“Fucking Christ..” he laughs breathlessly as he collapses on top of you. Both of you lay there silently, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. You run your fingers through his curls as he rests his head on your chest.

After a few minutes you hear the crunching of leaves below you causing you both to sit up suddenly.

“Edward!” Wayne’s voice calls from below.

“Shit.”

“Come down here and eat your damn dinner.. 20 years old and still playing in a damn treehouse.” Wayne mumbles as you hear his footsteps heading back through the woods.

You both look at each other and burst out laughing.

“Dinner, m’lady?” Eddie smirks, rounding up your clothes.

“Dinner sounds perfect.” you smile at him, feeling complete.

Masterlist 🖤

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you get embarrassed and miguel won’t let it go —featuring a smug miguel and a pining spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"This is super, uber bad," Lyla drawls lightly. 

Miguel waves an annoyed hand at her, gaze on the orange monitor in front of him. You shift from foot to foot beside him, neck craned to watch in tandem. 

"Like, so bad. Maybe you should go help." 

"I can't intervene now," Miguel says. 

"How come?" you ask, pulling at the tips of your gloves one at a time as you worry, until the whole thing is slipping off and onto the floor. 

You make no move to pick it up. Miguel glances down at it, then the screen again before saying, "Because they'll never learn. And because there's too many fingers in the same pie." 

"Pie?" you ask. 

"You don't want that?" he asks, pointing at your fallen glove. 

You blink, pulled back to the present from your stewing anxiety. It's hard seeing people you care about getting their asses handed to them and knowing you can't help.

Miguel rolls his eyes, only half-making fun as he leans down for your glove. You lean at the same time, almost knocking your head into his as your fingers brush. Miguel looks up, suddenly face to face with you. Your breath catches in your throat at the proximity. You can see every dark lash hedging his eyes, feel the fanning of his exhale as it kisses your top lip. 

His confusion is obvious. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

"Uh– it’s nothing." 

His eyes narrow, your heart skips a beat, and while Miguel might not have a spider sense he's still enhanced. He must hear it. Something in his eyes changes, the smallest flicker of amusement relaxing his brow.  

You wince and stand up rigidly straight, face to the screen again so he can't see your flustered expression head on. "Nothing." 

"Sort of felt like something." 

"It's nothing, Miguel." 

"That why you forgot this?" 

You look down at his offered hand, your glove bunched up in his big palm. 

Your lips part of their own accord, any effort you've made to appear unaffected by him, his stature, and his general imposing demeanour now worthless. Too quickly, you snatch the glove from his hand and yank it back over your fingers, your pinky bending uncomfortably from the sheer force of it. 

"It's nothing," Miguel repeats without inflection, though he crosses his arms and chuckles a second later. 

You squirm beside him. "I– I'm distracted." 

"I can tell. Something caught your eye?" 

The urge to cover your face with both hands reaches an all time high. You settle for covering one flushed cheek. "Nothing interesting." 

"No? Well, we can change that." 

"Would you stop?" you ask, trying to sound furious but definitely bordering pleading. 

"I'm not doing anything. Nothing happened." 

"I wouldn't take that, if it were me," Lyla chimes in. 

"Good thing it's not you," Miguel says. 

Things are quiet for a while. Miguel refocuses on the fight unfolding on screen, and you try to calm your beating heart. The embarrassment refuses to wane, your pulse too stubborn to slow, and eventually Miguel must take pity on you, leaning toward you with arms crossed over his chest. "It wasn't that bad," he says.

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"I'm trying to make you feel better." 

"You– I– you were so close to me, I got nervous, it– it has nothing to do with you." 

Miguel raises his eyebrows. "Oh, okay." He straightens up. "Nothing to do with me. You know I can hear your heart, right?" 

"Wow. Is that unique to you?" you ask scathingly, knowing every Spider in the whole headquarters can likely hear the drum of your heart right now. 

You know he's teasing because he finally managed to catch you in a moment of awkwardness rather than the other way around, and because he's an asshole —you think that part hard, hoping his enhanced hearing has improved to include telepathy. Like he can tell, he grins, and he nods at nothing in particular. 

"Don't worry, Spider-Girl. I won't hold it against you." 

"Generous," you say. 

His voice drops to a rough, lilting murmur, "People have said that about me. Tall, handsome, generous." It's impossible to miss the implication. 

Your heart rockets and you have to turn away from him entirely to maintain any dignity you have left. 

"You know what else they say?" Lyla asks. "That he's a smug, tightly wound control freak who's too busy being a bad sport, totally missing Jess' call for backup." 

"What?" Miguel asks, all smoothness dropped from his voice. "Respond!" 

"Say sorry to Y/N."

"Lyla!" 

"Say sorry–" 

"I'm sorry," he says to you. You're happy to find genuine apology in his gaze, if only for a second. "Lyla, respond." 

"Already did." 

Miguel gets so immediately angry that his head tips back and his eyes screw closed, grunting his dissatisfaction. You send Lyla a grateful smile, smothering a wave of laughs with your gloved hand. 

"Don't worry, Miguel," you say cheerfully. "I won't hold it against you."

"...Thank you."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks for reading! i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog if u have the time! <;3 my other miguel fics

[sky-is-the-limit]

Omg girl those firefighter headcanons 😩 can we have some for our Captain? The way you write them is so canon I can't get enough 😩

P: Chief!Price x F!Civilian Reader

CW:SFW/NSFW, Unprotected P in V, No prep

Notes: CFO = Chief Fire Officer.(Highest Rank)

Firefighter!Gaz

CFO!Price who would answer the call himself when he heard it was a gas leak late at night, figuring he’d handle it personally since it was quiet.

Arriving in the fire command vehicle, he'd knock firmly on your door, his expression all business, though his gaze softened when he saw you standing there in an oversized tshirt, hair tousled from sleep, with clear anxiety etched on your face. ''Alright, love, I’m here now.'' He’d say in that deep, reassuring voice of his. ''Let’s have a look, yeah?''

CFO!Price who would take his time checking every corner of your flat with intensive care, making sure to run every test twice. The whole while, he'd keep his eyes focused on the job but couldn't help the occasional stolen glance at your legs peeking from under that oversized shirt.

He’d feel a twinge of guilt when he caught himself staring a little too long, quickly averting his eyes and focusing back on his work. He was the Captain, after all. He couldn’t let his professionalism slip, at least not yet..

CFO!Price who would notice the way you bit your bottom lip, your brows furrowed with concern. So he'd make sure to use a softer tone when speaking, expression gentle, ''It’s all routine, don’t you worry.'' He’d murmur, even though his mind was racing with thoughts that made him shift uncomfortably. His blue eyes would meet yours just for a second, and he'd quickly look away, cursing himself for feeling like a rookie again.

CFO!Price who would be taken aback when you started calling him 'sir' in that sweet voice, finding it hard to keep his composure when you leaned down next to him, your eyes wide and curious as you asked about the equipment he was using. Your hand would brush his arm lightly, and he'd feel a warmth spread up his neck.

"You’ve got a knack for this, don’t you?" He’d joke lightly, his gruff exterior softening just a bit. When you offered him a glass of water and some homemade biscuits, he'd accept, just to see that radiant smile of yours.

CFO!Price who would pretend to stay focused on his tools but his eyes would keep drifting to where you sat on the counter, legs crossed in such a way that, if he were to look up, he’d catch a glimpse of those black satin panties.

He’d clear his throat, trying to banish the thought, but the idea of those soft thighs squeezing around his head would be driving him insane. He’d have to remind himself he wasn’t some 20-year-old who couldn’t control his urges.

CFO!Price who would raise an eyebrow when you mentioned paying him for his time, knowing full well that there’s no charge for fire department inspections.

''There’s no need for that, love.'' He’d say, his eyes narrowing slightly at your playful tone but when you’d lean in with that cheeky grin, batting your lashes and saying there must be something you could do to thank him for his hard work, he'd feel his resolve slipping.

CFO!Price who would tell himself that no one needed to know, that after years of maintaining his professionalism, he could afford this one indulgence. After all, he was still a man, and you were making it clear that you wanted him as much as he was starting to want you. He’d fight the internal battle, reminding himself that he deserved to experience this, just this once.

CFO!Price who would, after washing his hands and ensuring everything was safe, start walking towards you with a different purpose. The job was done, but he wasn’t ready to leave and so, his hand would slide onto your thigh, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his calloused fingers. He’d take your chin in his other hand, lifting your face to meet his gaze, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur. ''I can think of a few things you could do to thank me, sweetheart.''

CFO!Price who would find himself captivated by your insistence that no prep was necessary, your body already so aroused that you needed nothing more.

When he dropped his uniform pants and guided your hand into his boxers, the sudden touch of his erect cock against your palm would elicit a gasp from you. The size and heat of him would make your previous confidence waver, but your need would drive you to dismiss any hesitation.

CFO!Price who would guide your delicate hand along his thick, throbbing length, his breath catching as you explored every inch of him. The intensity of your touch and the way you traced his girth would make his second thinking crumble further. He’d watch your expression closely, his eyes dark with desire as he discovered how eager you were for him.

CFO!Price who would murmur, "Such a good girl for me." as he pushes you back onto the counter, his broad hands firmly spreading your thighs apart. Your pussy’s already dripping, slick coating your inner thighs, and he groans low in his chest, soaking in the sight of you, so ready, so needy for him.

His cockhead nudges against your entrance and he’s got his eyes locked on you, taking in every little gasp, every flutter of your lashes as he sinks the first few inches into your tight heat. Your walls stretch around him, clenching down hard, and you let out a sharp moan, nails biting into his biceps.

CFO!Price who would slide his hands under your ass, gripping tight as he pushes deeper, stretching you open inch by inch. The burn of him is overwhelming, but your wetness makes it easy, makes you crave it. He'd whisper rough and focused, "You feel that, love? So tight, so fucking perfect for me."

Each word is like gravel, setting your skin on fire as he thrusts in fully, hips meeting yours with a sharp smack that has you crying out. Your back arches, tits pressing up against his chest, and you can feel the rumble of his groan vibrating through you.

CFO!Price who would pull back just to thrust in hard, setting a slow, punishing rhythm that has your thighs trembling around his waist. His cock drags against your slick walls, every inch filling you perfectly, hitting spots that have your toes curling. You're dripping down onto the counter, the lewd, wet sounds of your slick mixing with his grunts and your high-pitched moans.

"Fuck, John-" You whimper, your voice breathless as your fingers curl into his hair, tugging him closer. He rewards you by sucking on your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he mutters filthy praises against your ear.

CFO!Price who would grab one of your legs, pushing it up against his side, opening you even wider for him as he pounds into you harder. You can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick cock stretching you out, and it makes you gush even more.

His rough thumb would come down to press on your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles that have you bucking your hips against him, chasing that high.

CFO!Price who would watch you, absolutely wrecked and spread out for him, his name a desperate cry on your lips. "Look at you, taking me so well." he'd growl out thick with lust. "Knew you were trouble the moment I saw you."

CFO!Price who would feel you tighten around him, your walls squeezing as you edge closer to that peak. He’s relentless, plunging into you so hard you see stars, your mind blanking out from the overwhelming pleasure.

His thumb on your clit speeds up, pressing down harder. "Come on, love," he’d urge, strained with his own mounting need to fill you up. "Cum for me. Show me how much you fucking need this." And you do as he says, your body locks up and then you’re cumming, gushing around him with a yelp that has your nails digging into his back.

CFO!Price who would keep thrusting through your orgasm, your pussy gripping him like a vice, milking his cock. His thrusts become erratic, hips snapping forward with a desperation that sends shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

He’s close and you can feel him throbbing inside you, thick and heavy. "Gonna fill you up, yeah?" he’d grunt, his pace frenzied now, chasing that final high. And with a few more deep, rough thrusts, he’s spilling inside you, his hot cum flooding your already slick walls.

CFO!Price who would stay buried deep, both of you panting and spent, his cock twitching as the last ropes of his cum seep out of you. He'd lean down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his beard scraping against your sweaty skin. When he finally pulls away, breath ragged, he’d rest his forehead against yours, giving a light chuckle. "That’s one way to thank your local fire department, eh?"

[eomayas]

his friends and his dad hate me • chs

pairing: non-idol!vernon x fuckgirl!reader, fwb

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!! angst

synopsis: you broke his little heart, he’s a cry baby. OR, reader excels in the male dominated field of being a female fuckboy! (based off ‘crybaby’ by megan thee stallion)

warnings: p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, riding, vernon gets his heart broke, reader is not a good person

a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for awhile and needed to finish it 😭 i love when readers are morally gray or just wrong & bad! pls remember this is just fiction ok thx!

despite the protests from his friends and the little (though extremely loud) voice in the back of his head telling him this is a horrible idea, vernon grabs his car keys and tries to slip out of his apartment. “dude, we didn’t even get to finish the game! get back here!” wonwoo shouts, frustration clear in his voice. it’s bible in their friend group to finish any smash tournament that’s started, and he’s breaking the one and only most important rule.

“later!” vernon says, hand on the door knob. he’s sort of stalling, sort of wants to be told that he has to stay behind. the thing is, he’s pathetic, especially when it comes to you. he’d cross all seven seas to get to you, if you asked.

“she doesn’t even like you!” soonyoung shouts. vernon sighs and rolls his eyes, walking down to the hallway and stopping at the entrance of the living room. five of his friends look at him with mild disappointment and he puts his hands up in surrender.

“first of all, she invited me over so you’re wrong—and secondly, you’d all do the same if you had prospects but you don’t,” vernon says, letting out a breath. it felt good for him to fight back like that, though soonyoungs comment does leave him feeling sort of doubtful. very doubtful, actually, because he knows there’s some truth in his statement whether he wants to acknowledge it or not.

minghao and joshua share a look and vernon sighs. “fuck you guys,” he says.

“yeah, whatever. but don’t come back here crying,” soonyoung says, a shit eating grin on his face. vernon flips him off, face flushing in embarrassment at the memory of him getting so drunk that he cried in mingyus arms at the club over you. they’ve never been able to let it go, bringing it up every time your name is mentioned. it’s mortifying, but a slight wake up call. except he’s not thinking with his head right now.

they all snicker, but minghao manages to give him a sympathetic shrug. it doesn’t do much to alleviate the doubt in his head, but the support is nice. simply put, his friends are not fans of you, and he doesn’t necessarily blame them. your relationship started out rocky and unserious—he was a late night booty call for you and a fill-in boyfriend without the title. he did boyfriend things with you—for you, thought you two were together until you dropped the bomb that you didn’t like him or want him like that. he was crushed, but he played it cool and told you that he wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway. that only made things worse, seeing that you only called him when you wanted some attention, and constantly made him feel like you wanted him.

the crying in the club bit was the straw that broke the camels back for his friends. they had a mock-intervention for him, urging him to delete your number and to find somebody else, but as if you were summoned at the mention of vernon moving on, you’d called him a few days later and got him back where you wanted him. he hasn’t been able to escape you since, caught in some spell or trap you put him under.

“whatever,” vernon mutters, pulling off his cap to run his fingers through his hair. “i’m leaving now.” he declares, urging himself to actually make the move to leave.

he’s halfway to the door when minghao calls out to him by saying, “my therapist would call this self-destructive behavior!”

vernon doesn’t have time to deeply evaluate his behavior as ‘self-destructive’, because he spends the twenty minute drive to your place psyching himself up. that alone should be indicative of the issue with seeing you, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. instead, he bumps his music and drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

it’s not lost on him that he was able to make it to your place without directions, though he forgot how complicated the apartment parking lot was. by the time he finds a spot that he won’t get towed and/or fined in, he’s much later than when he said he’d be at your place.

vernon sends you a quick ‘here’ text before making his way towards the door to your apartment building. he presses the buzzer for your unit, and his pulse skyrockets. in the few seconds that it takes for you to answer, he spirals thinking of every negative possibility of your encounter. what if you really do hate him, like soonyoung said? and, if not, what if he sucks in bed? what if he says something stupid? what if you find out he’s a complete and utter loser?

“vernon?” your voice crackles through the intercom and shoots straight to fast beating heart, halting his mental spiral of doom, and putting him back in the moment. he’s nervous in a different way now. he’s so unsure of himself around you sometimes—which is definitely a sign that he should cut ties with you.

“y-yeah,” he clears his throat quickly, trying to cover up his shaky voice. “it’s me.” his finger nearly throbs in pain from how much pressure he’s putting on the buzzer.

with a loud pop, the door unlocks and vernon enters. he hikes the two stories to your apartment, and by the time he’s at your door he’s mildly winded from how fast he got up there. vernon stalls a few feet from your door to regain his breath (and confidence). he chews on his bottom lip for a second and glances down the hallway and considers making a run for it.

there isn’t much thought put into that, though, because his feet take him in the other direction towards your front door, and he’s raising his fist to send three soft knocks your way. vernon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighs, dropping his shoulders and rolling them back.

you pull the door open and his eyes snap down to you, and he swears his hearing goes out for a split second, because his face feels like it’s on fire and his muscles feel heavy. and then you smile at him, and he thinks he may melt into a puddle in front of your door. “vernon!” you squeal, laughing yourself onto him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms encircling around his neck. “you took forever.” you mumble, capturing his lips in a kiss that he’s been dreaming of for weeks.

vernon silently thanks the universe that he didn’t collapse when you attached yourself to him, and that he had enough sense to hold onto the bottoms of your thighs for support. “traffic,” he lies, walking the two of you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

he stops walking and the two of you make out for a few minutes. his nerves disappeared the moment you latched onto him. granted, hes a bit nervous, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out, or like he wants to make a run for it. “you look good, baby,” you purr once you pull back from his lips to really look at him. you run your hands through his short, brown hair and smile at him, and he decides right then and there that all of the pain and suffering you’ve put him through might be worth it, if you keep smiling at him like that.

untangling you legs from his waist, vernon helps set you down and lets his hands drag up your bare legs. your skin is soft like he remembers, and he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life rubbing and touching it. but your hands make use of pulling down his jacket zipper and subsequently helping him out of his coat, so he unfortunately has to pull his hands away from your thighs.

“have you been working out?” you question, setting his jacket on the back of one of your bar stools. vernon looks down at his own biceps and shrugs. “i lift sometimes, yeah,” he says. you walk back over to him and shamelessly feel him up. he’s still skinny, but there’s muscle in places you don’t necessarily remember him having.

“hmm,” is all you reply—it does a lot to cover up how badly you want to tear him out of his clothes. you grab his hand and lead him down the hallway to your bedroom.

“how’ve you been?” vernon asks. you giggle at his awkwardness and give him a look over you shoulder as you pull him into your bedroom.

“really great,” you push him lightly towards your bed, and crawl onto his lap, lips finding purchase on his neck. you grind down onto him as you suck a purple mark onto his neck. “what about you?” you ask in between kisses, voice slightly breathless.

“uh, fine,” vernon spits out, mind a bit hazy when you slip off of his lap and onto your knees between his legs. “better.” you smile at him sweetly, but your hands make quick work of unbuttoning his jeans. he helps you pull them down to his ankles, along with his underwear.

a soft whimper leaves you mouth at the sight of his semi-hard dick. you press your thighs together and reach forward to grab ahold of his member and start stroking his shaft. vernon looks down at you with parted lips; he feels like he’s in a dream, watching you on your knees below him. you’ve given him head before, but it was conditional. usually, when you felt guilty for something, or knew you made him upset you would suck him off. he tries to push the thoughts away, and succeeds when you wrap you lips around the tip and attempt to take all of him. “fuuuck,” he groans, gripping onto the edge of the bed.

vernon is embarrassed at how quickly you draw out loud moans from him just by massaging his balls as you work your mouth on him. he hasn’t been with anybody else in awhile—and he’s too embarrassed to ever admit that he’s good with just having you, even if he has to wait for you to call him.

“oh, fuck, y/n,” he whines, thighs tensing. he lets go of the mattress to gather your hair and wraps it around one of his hands. you moan against his crotch when he pulls, watery eyes flicking up to meet his own. spit gathers at the corners of your mouth and vernon knows this is an image he’ll never, ever forget. “shitshitshit!” his hips buck upwards and he expects you to pull your mouth off of him to use your hands to get him to his release, but you stay put.

it drives vernon crazy. he comes fast, and he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed because you swallow, and then keep sucking after the fact. he’s never seen you act like this, and you’re a bit shocked at your own behavior—you hadn’t realized you missed him that much.

“y/n,” he whimpers, chin falling against his chest. you take that as a sign that he’s about to pass out, and reluctantly pull your mouth off of him with a pop. a trail of spit mixed with cum follows his cock to your mouth, and it makes you want to give him another blow job, but he looks too spent.

“vernon,” you start, getting off of your knees. he manages to sit upright before falling backwards onto your bed.

“give me a minute,” he croaks. you smile and take a few seconds of your own to catch your breath before you undress completely and crawl onto the bed next to him. vernon opens his eyes and looks over at you. “i wanted to do that.” he whines, referring to getting you naked, and reaches out for you.

you crawl on top of him and settle on his abdomen. his hands moves to your waist and his eyes stray trained on your breasts. you lean down a bit, practically putting your boobs in his face. vernon leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples. he shifts the two of you so he’s sitting up straight, thus shifting you down onto his crotch.

you can’t help but grind yourself against him as he plays with your breasts. he fondles the own that’s not in his mouth, and keeps his eyes on you. you moan softly above him, light little pants leaving your mouth that only encourage him. “nonie,” you whine, running your hands through his hair and gently tugging on the strands. “touch me. i want you to touch me.”

vernon pulls his mouth off of your breast and slides his hand that was on your waist up your spine. he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your mouth down to his own in a messy, heated kiss. he manages to flip the two of you over, propping himself up on an elbow and slipping his other hand between your legs.

“all for you,” you purr when he drags his fingers up your slit, a look of disbelief on his face at how wet you are. “need you, nonie. your fingers, mouth, all of it.” you whine, spreading your legs open for him. vernon liked how vocal you were about what you wanted from him. he wished you were as vocal about other aspects of your guys’ relationship, but he’ll take what he can get.

vernon dips two fingers inside of you, your arousal acting as a perfect lubricant. vernon kisses your neck and chest as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. his thumb presses on your clit and you moan out his name. “more, vernon,” you breathe, gripping onto his hair tightly. “fuck, i want you to fuck me vernon. can you fuck me?” you ask, clenching around his fingers.

his cock jumps at your tone of voice and request. “i can fuck you,” he rasps. he’d rather make you cum on his fingers first, but you wish is his command. he lifts up from you and pulls his shirt off. you rake your nails along his exposed abdomen, applying light pressure. you smirk up at him and he grabs your hand and kisses your palm. it’s much too intimate, but you can’t deny the butterflies it gives you.

“grab a condom,” you remind him, pointing to your nightstand when he grabs onto the base of his dick. he quickly moves to open the drawer, and he tries to ignore the photobooth strip of photos of you and some guy he’s never met is the first thing he sees. he pushes it out of the way and grabs a stray condom, and slams the drawer shut.

he rips open the package and rolls the condom on before grabbing your leg and throwing it over his shoulder and lining himself up. vernon pushes his hips forward and sinks the tip in. “ah!” you gasp at the delicious stretch. quiet as it’s kept, vernon has a big dick and he knows how to use it. it’s unfortunate that he’s hung and is so shy about it—sometimes you wish he’d call you to fuck, rather than you doing it all the time. “fuck, vernon, you’re so big.” his body flushes with heat and he keeps pushing forward.

you suck him in welcomingly. he fits inside of you like you were made to be stuffed by him. he fucks into with a steady rhythm, and each time he pushes inside a moan is pushed form your lungs. vernon can’t keep his own moans contained, moaning our curses with each thrust. it’s dizzying, how turned on he is by you. he feels like he can’t think about anything other than fucking you and staying like this until eternity. he gets the morbid thought that he’d be okay if he died like this, buried inside of you.

“fuck, right there baby! you’re so good to me, fuck!” you shriek, mouth falling open as you look at there the two of you connect. you get lost in watching him disappear inside of you, by the white ring that’s formed at the base of his dick. the sounds vibrate off of the walls; squelching and skin on skin nearly deafening. “fuck me, vernon!” you cry, hips raising to meet his own.

tears brim in your eyes when he pulls your leg from his shoulder and shoves it up to your chest, spreading you open wider and fucking into you at a different angle. “i m-missed you,” he chokes out, shifting his weight to a single arm so he can grope your chest.

“me too,” you pant, chest arching up into his. you chase his lips with your own, wanting to feel as close to him as possible. your mouths press together, but not in a kiss. you pant and moan harshly against each other, his hips rutting into you at a faster, less rhythmic pace.

“i-im close,” he whimpers, placing an open mouthed kiss on the corner of your lips. you whine out his name as he speeds up his pace, your arms sliding up his back. you dig your nails into his skin, definitely leaving scratches. “fuck, you’re perfect.” he whispers, eyes looking into yours.

you whimper and squeeze around him before your release comes crashing over you. “nonie!” you cry, clutching onto him like a life raft as he fucks you through your orgasm. his strokes lose rhythm completely and moments later he’s coming into the condom, stilling inside of you as he does. you almost wish he wasn’t wearing a condom, so you could feel him.

vernon drops on top of you, his arms too weak to hold himself up. you cling to him, hands running through his hair absentmindedly. you don’t mind the weight of him on you, and you especially don’t mind the fact that he’s still inside of you. you have a soft spot for vernon, even though it may not seem like it. he’s the nicest guy you’ve ever been with—much nicer than the guys you’re typically acquainted with—and he’s sweet to you, even when you don’t deserve it. you know you should probably let him go, free him of your games, but something in you won’t let you. and that same something won’t let you like him—love him—how he deserves.

“vernon,” you murmur, rubbing his back.

“hmm.”

“im hot, and you’re heavy,” you say with a soft giggle. he smiles into the sheets and lifts himself up and pulls himself out of you. both of you whimper pathetically at the loss of contact, and laugh at each other seconds later. he drops down beside you on the bed, rolling onto his back. you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest before resting on your cheek, and he wraps an arm around your waist.

vernon strokes your hair and keeps his eyes on you. if he was a cartoon, his heart would be beating out of his chest and hearts would be shooting out of his eyes.

“you’re staring,” you mutter, rubbing his side.

“because you’re pretty,” he says, hand sliding from your waist to your ass. you roll your eyes and sit up onto your knees and look down at him. you can’t contain the urge to smile or kiss him, so you do both. “you should go pee.” he mumbles, breaking the kiss.

“right,” you say, quickly getting off the bed. no other guy would remind you to pee after sex, but of course vernon does. every single time, too. you wish you could leave him alone.

vernon sits up and grabs his boxers. he pulls them on and stretches his arms above his head, sighing when he feels a pop in his shoulders. somewhere behind him, a phone buzzes once, then twice, then incessantly. he doesn’t know where his phone is, so he digs around in the bed until he finds the source, pulling out the phone from under a pillow. it’s definitely not his, so he feels sort of strange holding it as the name ‘seungcheol’ flashes across the screen.

“what are you doing with my phone?” you ask with an accusatory tone, eyebrows furrowed as you tie your robe.

“i couldn’t find mine, and it was ringing,” vernon says, holding it out to you. you snatch it out of his hand unnecessarily, ready to tell him to mind his business until you look down at the screen and see three texts and a missed call from a guy you’re seeing. it’s not super serious, but you feel bad for vernon having to see it.

“sorry,” you mutter, quickly typing out a response to seungcheol. you try to shove the guilt down as you set your phone down on your dresser. it’s awkward and tense, and you can feel him watching you as you mess around with things on your dresser.

glancing up, you catch his eyes in the mirror and sigh before turning around to face him. you crawl onto the bed next to him and sit on your knees. he won’t meet your eyes, so you try the only thing to bring him back to you.

you kiss his neck and run your hands across his chest. he doesn’t react so you pull your robe open and grab his hand, placing it on your chest and squeezing. “vernon,” you murmur, crawling into his lap. you kiss up his neck, to his jaw, and when you get to his mouth he pulls back.

it’s not his business at all, but he can’t hold back when he asks, “who was that?”

you bite your bottom lip and encircle your arms around your neck. you press your weight into his crotch and bite back a smile when he covers a groan with a throat clear. “he’s just a friend, nonie,” you lie, kissing his cheek. “you have me. all of me.”

he looks up at you with wide eyes, and you feel his cock twitch under your ass. he’s pathetic, and it’s never been more clear to him because he kisses you and palms your breast, pinching your nipple lightly and shoving off your robe. he knows he’s reaches new lows because he lets you push him flat onto the bed and pull his underwear down. when you sink down onto him—with no condom this time—he knows he’s fucked.

you ride him like your life depends on it, like him forgetting that seungcheol ever called is imperative to keeping this thing going between the two of you, because it is. you bring out all the stops, riding him on your toes and telling him things he definitely wants to hear, like how nobody feels better than him, and he’s the best you’ve ever had.

vernon leaves your apartment with clarity on one thing: he understands why his friends can’t stand you.

[angelwonie]

in which coriolanus snow might have beaten someone up for talking badly about you.

PAIRING: academy!snow x fem!reader

SUMMARY: coriolanus snow does reckless things when it comes to you.

WARNINGS: mentions of broken ribs and a crematorium (coryo is dramatic lol), up to interpretation whether he's morally gray

WORD COUNT: 0.8k

“Why’d you do it?”

Coriolanus’ head snaps up at the sound so familiar to him and yet resounding in a somewhat foreign tone through the room. He’s at the academy past hours, finishing up homework his aching fingers didn’t allow him to write this morning. You’re leaning against the doorway, a few stairsteps below him, arms crossed over your chest. Your face is almost entirely hidden from him; the only source of light, his oil lamp, does little to change it.

“What do you mean? Why are you standing in the shadows? Come sit.”

He hears a scoff, now sounding much more like what he’s accustomed to with you. 

“Answer the question,” you say.

“I don’t know what you m—”

“Why did you hit him, Snow? I won’t ask again.” 

Finally, the contours of your figure appear clearly in his line of sight. The vague light illuminates your face contorted in chagrin, brows furrowed like they so often are when the two of you are working on assignments. He leans back in his chair, blonde locks falling onto his forehead.

“You know why,” he counters, watching as you approach. Instead of sitting down next to him, you stand before his desk with expectant eyes. He mimics your stance, crossing his own arms over his chest half-seriously. “You know, so how come you’re here asking me stupid questions?”

Finally, you crack. 

“Because you’re an idiot, that’s why.” Sighing angrily, you plop down next to him and land a slap to his shoulder. He hisses in pain and the corners of your mouth lift in satisfaction. “A self-aware one, at that—which is even worse.”

“That is entirely subjective.”

“Don’t even start.”

“Why? Were you worried?” 

You let out a humorless laugh. “For Festus more than you. Have you seen him?”

“I wish. Bet he looks awful with half his ribs broken.” Your open palm hits his shoulder and he gasps anew. “When did you become so violent?” 

You scoff and push him, but he barely moves. “I’m violent? You’re so infuriating. They wanted to throw you out. I had to beg his parents for mercy. Me, who, by the way, did nothing wrong. So if I want to hit you right now, I have every right.”

He sighs and tilts his head against the wall. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“You don’t mean it.”

He smiles. You raise your hand to hit him again, but decide against it, instead laying it on the side of his face. His shoulders tense momentarily before he remembers it’ll be weird if you notice and he forces himself to relax as your fingers run over his cheek and neck, before they slide down to hold his right hand. You bring his bruised knuckles to your eyes, inspecting them. 

“How many times did you even hit him?”

“I don’t know, like, fifty before Sejanus hauled me off.”

“You’re insane,” you say. 

He thinks you’re probably right. But Festus said what he said and paid the price. At a discount at that—because if it were up to Coriolanus the asshole wouldn’t be lying in the hospital but the crematorium. Silence settles and all he hears is your breathing. Your fingers stay caressing his hand and each time they run over the bruises on his knuckles, he twitches indiscernibly, fighting the urge to jolt away. 

“Will you tell me what he said?” you ask, this time softer. 

“I don’t remember in detail…” he starts, but you stare at him knowingly and he cannot bring himself to lie. “Something about how you’re going to share my mother’s fate.” 

“Coryo,” you say. 

The two of you remain silent. He thinks you might stand up and leave; he thinks you’re terrifying at this moment, with your hair framing your face and your eyes on fire and your lower lip trembling. He thinks he’s said too much of the truth. Suddenly, you make a sound close to choking and he stiffens all over. 

“Coryo.” Your voice is feeble, shaky, as you wrap your arms around him and pull him in. In shock, he can do nothing more than let you hold him, taut as a string. “You should have told Dr. Gaul or…”

He has enough fervor in him still to chuckle, although it’s only half-hearted. “And what would she have done?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. 

You sit, embracing in the dark, in silence. He’s tense until you start rubbing his back, then he considerably relaxes with a hot sigh against your neck. It raises hairs all over your body, the heat, and you breathe out slowly. You smell like victory, he thinks, like roses and winter and gold. 

“He was wrong.” Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you pull away for a brief moment to look him in the eyes. Blue, piercing eyes which gaze at you in a manner so unidentifiable. “You hear me? He was wrong about me and you and everything. I promise. I’m glad you punched him.”

“I did it for you.”

“I know. I know.” 

In the half-dark room, he wraps his arms around you tighter. 

i havent posted for so long so have this. also always remember i liked him first bcs i was in love already when i read the book two years ago. everyone else back off!! please let me know if u liked this and maybe ill write smth longer for coryo later xx

[dwonfilm]

There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)

Summary: Dean felt like he had no other option than to push [Y/N] out of his life completely. When he and Sam find a case in her hometown, he’s hit with all of the emotions he’d tried for so long to bury.

Warnings: swearing, mild-angst, mostly sadness and ending with fluff.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Flashbacks are in bold.

Dean and Sam had found a case in Reno, Nevada—a city that had a lot of memories particularly for the older Winchester. Sure they’d worked a dozen or more cases around here over the years but that wasn’t the type of memories that kept playing on his mind. He only wished it was that simple. Sam had opted to take the backseat, needing some extra rest on the drive and Dean usually drove his precious ‘67 impala anyway. Ever since they’d found this case, the eldest Winchester was uneasy. Not because it was anything special, from the details online it seemed like it was just another vamps nest—maybe even just a handful travelling together.

No, what began to plague his mind was something that cut much deeper than that. All he could think about was you.

It had been roughly two years since he’d last seen you. Every other second of the last year and half had been him fighting the urge to reach out, knowing two things for certain. One: you’d be far better off without him holding you down. Two: even if that wasn’t the case, he’d really hurt you the last time you spoke and despite how much he missed you.. you’d likely never speak to him again—but that’s what he’d wanted right? You to move on, you to live a life that wasn’t plagued by the dangers of all things supernatural. Find a good man, a normal man, settle down.. get married and have kids. Not have to worry about tending to someone who had spent his entire life broken. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, it seemed the universe had other plans.

It seemed at some point in the drive his playlist had changed and delved into the ‘divorced dad rock’ side of things—the first few notes of what he recognized as a Daughtry song began to play. Seemingly just as they’d finally crossed the state lines into Nevada, the lyrics began..

“Ten miles from town and I just broke down, spitting out smoke on the side of the road. I’m out here alone, just trying to get home to tell you I was wrong but you already know. Believe me I won’t stop at nothing to see you so I’ve started running.”

Now Dean knew exactly what song this was and it damn sure wasn’t helping with his desperate need to stop thinking about you. He reached out to change the song but when the chorus hit, he stopped and his finger merely hovered above the button.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

It was as if the song was delivered down by the hand of God himself, which only made the ache in Dean’s heart that much worse. He’d been in pain ever since he left two years prior, but he had no right to be—he knew that. After all, the reason he didn’t have you by his side was because he left. It was because he walked away. Deeply he’d sigh as the next verse again would line up with the exact thought in his head.

“Last time we talked, the night that I walked burns like an iron in the back of my mind. I must have been high, to say you and I, weren’t meant to be and just wasting my time. Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you.”

Death had truly paled in comparison to how he felt seeing the look in your eyes. All of the pain, the hurt as he watched you break in front of his very eyes. You’d been together three years in total, but what you didn’t know—what he refused to tell you is that his worst fear was becoming a reality. Lucifer had threatened you in order to make Dean comply with his demand. He’d figured out the only way to get to the elder Winchester was through you, seeing as Lucifer himself needed Sam for his own personal vendettas. It wasn’t long after this that Dean knew he had to get as far away from you as possible. All the pain and suffering he’d endured in his lifetime would be nothing if your death was due to him. He couldn’t live with that and more importantly, you deserved more than that out of this life.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

Sam began to stir in the backseat, which he’s caught sight of through the rear view mirror and so Dean quickly changed the station. He’d use Metallica specifically to shift the mood before his brother woke up and started asking too many questions. Questions that Dean wouldn’t have the answers to and he was already battling his mind to keep it all at bay.

Gripping Baby’s wheel tightly in his hands, he’d continue to path to Reno. About fifteen minutes later was when Sam’s eyes actually opened. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.” Dean said with a (fake) smile on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny. Wait.. how long was I out? Are we in Nevada already?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and noting their desert-like surroundings. “I don’t know, hours Sammy. Yeah we’re in Nevada—about an hour or two ‘til Reno.” Just saying the name of the city was enough to have him nervous again. There was a brief bit of silence between the brothers, Sam had a thought on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know whether he should say it. Dean’s eyes had fixated on the road ahead and he sensed that his younger brother was gonna bring it up—bring you up, he’d always really liked you. Besides that, he could always seem to tell when things were troubling Dean despite his best efforts to hide it. “You know you could-“ Sam started but knowing it was coming, the elder brother immediately shut it down. “Sam, don’t. Please. I can’t and you know that.” Dean’s voice was shaky and that let him know that he’d already been thinking about things far too long. “You’ve been thinking about it. I know you, man. You think I didn’t see the look on your face when I told you we had something in Reno?” He sighed, knowing that his older brother was struggling with this didn’t make him feel good but he also knew it was making Dean feel worse. “Sammy, please.. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Sam would shake his head but he let it go, rehashing this with Dean while he was attempting to drive wasn’t gonna end well for either of them. Not to mention an hour and a half of odd tension in such a small place wasn’t ideal either. Instead, the younger brother’s eyes averted from the front of the car altogether as he turned to gaze out the window next to him. Sighing partially in relief and partially from the lingering thoughts, Dean would fully place his attention on the road and on the directions to this particular motel. They needed to get in, solve this case and get out before he did something he’d been trying for quite some time not to do.

Surprisingly this case was a little more difficult to follow through on, these vampires were incredibly elusive and their nest wasn’t the easiest to find. However, after a couple days lingering around they finally located the nest and were able to kill the three vamps that had been killing the locals. As it had become part of the job, Sam and Dean went out to a local dive bar to celebrate the victory—but Dean was trying to do more than that. He was trying to drown the lingering thoughts of you with whiskey, swallowing the liquid and letting it gently burn his throat. This would end up having the opposite effect and only made him think of you more. Over the first hour and change the brothers spent at the bar, three separate girls tried to hit on Dean but he didn’t really pay them any mind. Around the two hour mark the elder of the brothers decided he needed some air, getting up and walking outside. Dragging his dominant hand over his face he was doing anything to cling to that last bit of pride that he had. You were better off and he knew that, but every day that had been lost it was eating at him slowly. He needed a distraction and so he walked over to his precious car, getting into the driver’s seat and sighing. One flick of the wrist and the lights would come on, the radio coming in clear as day: it was that goddamn song again.

“You and I, right or wrong, there’s no other one. After this time spent alone it’s hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind, thinking about the better times.. must’ve been out of my mind. So I’m running back to tell you.”

Again it seemed like the universe had intervened and Dean Winchester was far too drunk to fight it. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and right now, all that he needed was you. He opened up the driver’s side door and got out just to come face to face with Sam, who had been worried when he couldn’t locate his brother in the bar. “What is it Dean?” He asked, noting the emotional state it was clear he was in—confused but not entirely. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but you’d helped him with that. “I need to see her, Sammy. I can’t do this anymore.” There was enough emotion in his voice for his younger brother to know what he meant. Nodding Sam would approach the driver’s side door. “I’m driving, we’re not risking it with you.” Dean normally would protest but right now? All he needed to do was get to you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to fill the void that he’d put there himself.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, without you god knows what I’d do.”

Dean’s eyes were technically gazing out the window, but that’s not what he saw. His mind was flashing different images in rotation—one happy memory with you followed up by something he’d done to chase your memory away after he’d run away.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you and I think that all that still matters is love ever after—after the life we’ve been through. I know there’s no life after you.”

It seemed fast, but it had probably been about thirty minutes of time that had passed. Not that you lived very far at all, if you were even still at the last address the Winchesters had for you—Sam took a longer route hoping that Dean would sober up a little more before talking with you. Anyone would be able to smell the whiskey on him at this moment, but his words needed to be coherent if there was any chance of you hearing him out. It seemed that he had sort of the same idea because even when the impala had pulled into the driveway, he just sat there. “What if she doesn’t wanna talk?” Dean asked, somber tone to his voice as his eyes remained fixated on the front door of what he hoped was still your home. Mind racing almost as fast as his heart. “Dean, if I know anything about [Y/N], she’ll at least listen—even if she’s incredibly pissed and still hurt.” Sam reassured his older brother. Dean sighed again, not wanting to waste another second and also wanting to see have some alcohol in his system for this conversation. Slowly he opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the asphalt driveway. Gently closing the door, it had still alerted a dog inside the home who was barking just a little bit every couple of seconds. He carried himself up the few cement steps, turning to see the front door closer than ever. Now more memories of the last time he was here were coming back.

“Dean, please.. why are you doing this? You can’t possibly just have stopped loving me, that’s not..” Her sobs were breaking his heart but he knew this was something he had to do. “Why are you walking away from this? From us? After everything we’ve been through.. after the life we’ve built from the ground up.. you’re just throwing it all away.” She felt as if there was a fire in your chest, she’d been sobbing so intensely for what seemed like forever. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and made a mess of the space underneath her eyes. “Say something, Dean—please.. why are you pushing me away? What did I do?!” Every word became far more intense and the actual words were hard to discern from the sobs. Dean had just been staring at the floor since the words left his mouth. Three years next to her and he never imagined this day would come, but if you died just so Lucifer could get one up on him? He’d never survive. He’d never be able to carry the weight of your death or your blood on his hands—so this was the only way you got to live a long and happy life without him putting you in harm’s way. “[Y/N/N] I.. I just don’t think we were meant to work out. I’m sorry, I just-“ he was cut off by her intense sobs hearing him saying it again. “Please Dean.. don’t do this.. whatever I did wrong, whatever’s not working we can fix it. Please..” She pleaded, voice already hoarse from the crying and the wailing. “Sweetheart you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’m just, not made out for this relationship stuff.” He’d barely lifted his gaze again to meet her own, but only for a second. Seeing her like that was too hard for his heart to bare. “Why Dean.. please.. it’s been three years. Three years of this and we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can move past it together, don’t you love me anymore?” She sobbed out, arms wrapped around her own chest as Dean looked up to her face and met her gaze one last time. “Honey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.” Sighing he turned to walk out the front door, closing it and never looking back. He couldn’t look—his heart had already shattered.

Now here he was again, roughly two years later, taking the last few steps to fully stand at your front door. Lifting his hand which had formed a loose fist, he’d knock three times upon the wooden material of the door. There was no answer and no sign that anyone was home other than the dog barking that he’d heard moments prior. Dean was about to turn and walk back down the pathway when he heard the doorknob turning after the lock clicked out of position. “Do you know how late it is, what do you nee—“ her eyes widened when she realized who had just knocked at her door. “D-Dean.. what are you..” she felt her bottom lip quivering. Dean could tell this was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen. “Hi, sweetheart. I-“ before he could get another word out of his mouth, he was met with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His eyes fell as he collected his thoughts, waiting before speaking again. “I deserve that. I deserve that and so much more. [Y/N/N] I’m so sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry.” He got out, not being able to look back up at her just yet. “You’ve got some kind of nerve showing up here, this late at night.. Dean you broke my heart and you stomped on it to boot. Why do you think after two whole years that I’d listen to whatever the hell you have to say?” It was obvious that there was sadness and hurt laced within her voice, more so than the anger she’s trying to push forward. Slowly his head tilted back into its usual position and his eyes found hers again. “I know there’s no life after you.” It was all he could say in that second and her expression softened, before she’d built the wall back up. “You came all the way to quote a Daughtry song?”

“No, I’m quoting that damn song because for the three days Sam and I have been in Reno I’ve heard it everywhere. My car, in a store, hell in my head—[Y/N] I’ve been trying every day since I left to push your memory from my mind. I wanted so badly to forget about you and know that you were free to have a normal life. I also know that I’ve got no right to stand on your doorstep telling you how much pain I’ve been in since the second I walked out this door two years ago when this whole fucking thing is my fault.” He paused, tears slowly falling as he tried to blink them away. “[Y/N] I was afraid. I was so afraid.. I couldn’t lose you like that-“ Again he was cut off but just by her words this time. “Dean you did lose me, you pushed me away—fuck you pushed me out of your life altogether. You’re absolutely correct, you don’t have any right to stand here talking about your pain. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, for weeks after you left. All I did was lay on that couch and sob. Endlessly. After I couldn’t physically sob any more I thought, there has to be some kind of monster or witch doing this and so I researched for weeks and still barely ate and slept only a fraction more. All I came up with was dead end after dead end and so I finally had to realize the truth.” She sobbed out, pausing to try and steady her own voice. “You chose to leave on your own.” She’d opened her mouth to continue talking but now it was his turn to sob out, which caught her completely off guard. “He made me feel like I had no other choice..”

Now you stood with a perplexed look on your face as tears were streaming down your cheeks. “What.. who-“ before the question could even fully leave her lips, the man she loved began to speak again. “Lucifer. He needed Sammy, you know all that one true vessel shit, so he couldn’t hurt me that way. He knew any threat he put to Sam wouldn’t stick because deep down I knew that Lucifer needed Sam alive and well to complete whatever sick and twisted plan he had thought out.” She felt both her heart and her stomach drop, figuring out exactly where this was going. “[Y/N] he said he’d kill you and not think twice. I couldn’t.. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died all because I love you. I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that your death was my fault and I’d never get your blood off my hands.” His confidence had wavered, the alcohol mostly wearing off. You sighed, a silence falling over the two of you as you attempted to process what he’d just said. “Dean.. why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me what he said and we could’ve talked about it.” She asked, the venom gone from her words and a sadness settling over them. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to admit that I was scared especially to you, I’m the one that was supposed to keep you safe. I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to excuse me hurting you like I did—that image of you hugging yourself and crying the hardest I’d ever seen someone cry has haunted me all this time. I never wanna hurt anyone but I damn sure never wanted to hurt you.. at all—let alone like that..”

Again a silence fell between them, it felt like a lifetime between their words and the action she’d finally take. Stepping forward she used both of her hands to cup his face, both having glassy hues due to all the tears. “I forgive you, Dean.” She said almost in a whisper. He felt his heart racing and he eyes searched hers for any sign that this might not be true. Seconds felt like hours but he couldn’t find any sign of deception and instinctively, he plunged forward to connect his lips with her own. It had caught her off guard but she was returning the kiss with an explosion of passion. They chased the other’s lips in a back and forth motion until they both couldn’t breathe. After pushing the limit a little further they’d separate but remain forehead-to-forehead. “I know there’s no life after you.” She spoke in a soft tone before pulling Dean inside of her home and re-locking the door.

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter seven

summary: buck and eddie continue to keep you company, until you find something interesting at buck's apartment.

word count: 3.0k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the second last chapter already, that’s so crazy😵‍💫 i love how this turned out and i’m so sorry for the cliffhanger but it had to happen hehe. enjoy<3

warnings: stalking, slight noncon, buck being crazy (cutely<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

As the weeks go by, you start to feel less on edge about your situation. People are still dropping dead around the city, and you’d be lying if you said the details of the murder didn’t cause chills to run down your spine, but you don’t know any of the people. For some reason, you find it a little bit easier to sleep at night knowing this.

Buck and Eddie have been a tremendous help to your feelings of comfort and safety, too. Not only do they walk you home from work every night, except for when they’re working, of course, but one of them makes sure they’re at your home or you’re at theirs most of the time.

Tonight, Eddie’s at your house while Buck babysits his niece and Christopher. He’s made you dinner; nothing special because he’s not nearly as skilled in the kitchen as Buck, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You park yourselves on your couch, your leg partly over his as you sit cross-legged beside him, which is making it painstakingly hard for him not to pull you over his lap and press hot, open mouth kisses down your neck.

“There’s more here. You want any sweet- heart?” you hear him ask loudly when he goes to the kitchen to get you both some water. You’re so engrossed in the show you put on that you don’t think too hard about the pause between sweet and heart. You smile, shaking your head, although he’s not able to see you from the kitchen.

“No, thanks!” you yell back, and Eddie can’t even answer. His hands are gripping the side of the counter as he bows his head, taking deep, steady breaths. He almost fucked up. Like, really fucked up. His jaw is clenched as he tries to calm himself down; he knows you’ll get curious if he spends too long in the kitchen. But he knows how badly it would’ve gone if he let his words actually slip, which makes it hard for him to slow his racing heart.

He remembers the realization on your face when they called you sweet girl as they killed Isaac. He knows that you’d put two and two together. You’re their smart, sweet girl, of course you’d fucking put it together.

After a minute, he comes back into the living room with two cups of water, and you thank him absentmindedly, barely even glancing at him before your eyes are back on your show. He lets out a long exhale as he lowers onto the couch beside you, extremely grateful that you hadn’t caught on.

He knows he’d be able to come up with a plan, but he’s extremely happy that he doesn’t have to now. He’s enjoying his time with his sweet girl, and he doesn’t want to cut it short by using one of her own knives to shut her up. The thought does make his dick twitch though, and he grips his fork tighter as he pictures it.

When you’ve both finished your dinner, he pulls your legs onto his lap, patting the top of your thigh gently as he gives you a soft smile. You feel the heat rushing up your neck as you feel his fingers grazing your inner thigh, but you smile back at him anyway.

“Thank you for being here.” you say in a quiet voice after a little while. He looks over to see you laying back on the couch, legs still over his lap, and fighting hard to keep your eyes open. He chuckles softly, and he can’t resist the urge to reach a hand over and cup your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin gently. 

He smirks when he sees you lean into his touch, and he’s not sure what he likes more; your eyes full of terror, or you looking so soft and safe with him here.

“You don’t have to thank me. We told you we’d protect you, and that’s what we’re gonna do.” he tells you, his voice slightly rough even though it’s full of care. You smile, and your eyes finally close as you rest your head completely on the backrest of the couch.

“I’m losing you here, honey. You should go to sleep.” he teases quietly, hand still caressing your cheek. You smile, although your eyes are still closed, and nod, mumbling a soft “okay” before you stand up slowly. 

He helps you get to your bedroom, then when you’re happily tucked into bed, he turns off your light and goes back to your living room. He takes your dishes to the kitchen and cleans up the mess, moving silently as he tries to distract himself from your plush body in the next room.

He groans softly when he goes to check on you an hour later, and if he didn’t already have a plan, he’d call Buck and tell him to come over right now so they can have their way with you.

He knows they can’t, though. He told you earlier that he was going to spend the night, and if the two masked men snuck into your apartment while Eddie was supposed to be there, he knows that you would either never trust them again, or you’d figure them out, or both.

So, he goes back to your living room and makes himself comfortable as he lays on your couch. If it were up to him, he’d be in bed with you, arms wrapped firmly around your soft middle. He knows he can’t, though; he doesn’t want to move too quickly.

As if someone decided to answer his prayers, he hears your frantic voice from the other room, calling his name.

He’s in your room in an instant, sitting beside you on the bed as he cups your cheek and rubs his thumb across your skin again, shushing you softly. He tries to act concerned as he takes in your tear-stained face, but he loves the sight, and when you ask him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard if he’ll stay with you, he smirks.

He lays beside you, getting under your blankets and wrapping a large arm around your waist, pulling his chest flush against your back. When he’s sure you’re asleep, he whispers in your ear in a gruff voice.

“Good night, sweet girl.”

The next morning, your bed is cold, and when you sit up, you see the note on your bedside table. If it weren’t there, you’d assume you dreamed the entire night. Eddie’s always so sweet, of course, but he was so good to you last night. You feel a little embarrassed about asking him to sleep with you, but after the dream you had of the men terrorizing you, you certainly don’t blame yourself.

You feel a little more on edge this morning, though, even though Eddie’s note told you that Buck would be coming by later in the afternoon to keep you company. Last night, you could barely tell what was a dream and what wasn’t. You swear that as you were about to fall back asleep, you could hear the men’s voices, and the name they call you, although you know it couldn’t be. Eddie was right there.

You feel like your dreams are bleeding into your real life, and for the rest of the day, even after Buck comes over, you feel a little extra jumpy. Buck hardly notices though. He’s so excited to have you taste test his improved brownie recipe that he doesn’t notice the way you jump when he drops his phone right in front of you.

Almost a week later, you’re at Buck’s apartment. It’s almost sunset, and you’re still sleepy from staying up so late. You’re still in your pajamas, and your eyes feel heavy with sleep as you lounge around his place.

You worked the night before, an earlier shift than the closing ones you’re used to, and when Buck got you back to his apartment, he insisted on having a “sleepover,” as if that wasn’t what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. When you got to his house, he made you shower and change into pajamas, and when you went down to his living room, he had popcorn, chocolate, chips, and sour candies spread across the coffee table. 

Your heart had swelled at the sight of him looking so proud of himself, and you couldn’t help snuggling up to him when you sat on the blanket-covered couch beside him. Your head stayed in place on his shoulder the entire night, and by the end of the first movie, his hand had made itself firmly at home on your thigh.

You both stayed up until almost 5am, and when you woke up the next day, well into the afternoon, his head was laying back at an awkward angle on the couch and your head was resting in his lap. 

Now, you’re sitting at his kitchen table, one leg crossed under the other as you text Tara, laughing silently about how her closing shift went with the new guy that was nice, as it turned out, but extremely stupid.

“Oh, before I forget; did I leave my sweater here a few days ago? The blue one?” you ask Buck after a few minutes, tearing your eyes away from your phone and looking over to him making dinner.

“Uh, yeah. It’s in my closet. I washed it for you. You got pasta sauce on it.” he tells you, turning and giving you a fake disappointed look as he says the last sentence. You roll your eyes, laughing softly as you stand up from the table.

“Well, thank you.” you begin in a sarcastic tone, “I’m gonna go grab it.” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you’re dragging yourself up to his loft, still feeling a little groggy from staying up so late and sleeping through half of the day.

When you pull open his closet doors, you don’t see your sweater anywhere. Since you don’t want to distract Buck from dinner, you begin to move the clothes around, hoping that maybe your sweater had just fallen off a hanger or is hidden under some of his shirts that are hanging up.

You’re halfway into his closet now as you get on your knees, moving the various articles of clothing on the hardwood floor when you see a sliver of a very familiar mask. Your stomach drops as the shirt you’re holding finally moves away from the mask completely, and you drop the shirt as you kneel there, frozen.

It has to be a coincidence, you think. It can’t be Buck; he’s Buck. 

Buck continues to absentmindedly get dinner ready as you go upstairs, and not even a minute later his eyes widen as he remembers what’s shoved in the back of his closet. His grip tightens on the knife he’s holding as he darts towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as he races to his room.

You whip your head around when you hear him coming up the stairs and get up quickly, but not before Buck gets a perfect peek of you kneeling down from behind, your ass on display for his eager eyes.

Buck can see the uncertainty in your eyes as you stand up, and he knows you’ve found the mask. He takes a step closer, and his eyes darken as he sees you take a step back, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat as he takes in your sheepish demeanour. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweet girl.” he growls as he takes another step closer. He knows he should play dumb, should make up a harmless story about it; it’s what Eddie would do, but he can’t help it. The look in your eyes is so close to fear, and it only makes him push further.

Tears form in your eyes when the realization hits you. The other night when Eddie was over, it wasn’t you dreaming. He had been the one to say it. You can see the predatory look in Buck’s eyes as he stalks towards you, and although you try to move away from the closet and further away from him, he’s still blocking the staircase. 

You let out a soft whimper as your back hits the wall behind you, your whole body shaking as you watch him cross the distance between you. 

When he finally gets to you, you have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes, your lip quivering as you speak.

“No. It can’t be you.” He smirks, his empty hand coming up to rest against the wall beside your head as the one with the knife slowly drags the blade across your neck and down towards your chest.

“It is, baby. Surprised?” he purrs, then leans down towards the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent. You shudder, turning your face away from his as tears fall from your eyes, and he chuckles again. The sound of his dark laugh makes your blood run cold, and in a split second, you’re darting around his large frame and trying to run for the staircase. 

You need to get out of here. Now.

He grabs the back of your shirt before you can get far, however, and you yelp loudly as you’re pulled back against his hard body. You thrash against him, your frightened whimpers echoing through his apartment, but as soon as the knife moves up to your cheek, the sounds die on your lips. 

“There we go, sweet girl. We’re not gonna hurt you. Not if you’re good for us.” he whispers in your ear, his other arm firmly around your plush middle. Your legs almost give out as you realize that you’re not getting out of his strong grip, and even if you do, you’re sure he isn’t planning on merely scaring you with that knife.

“Then take the knife off my neck.” you try to say sternly, but your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. He nibbles on your ear, a smile making its way onto his face.

“If I do, will you run?” he asks in an almost cocky tone. You shake your head quickly, and he smirks, lowering the knife from your neck hesitantly.

“You promise you’re gonna be good for me?” he asks, his breath tickling your ear and making you shiver.

“Yes.” is all you say; it’s all you can force yourself to say. You’re sure that if it wasn’t for his strong body behind yours, your legs wouldn’t be able to hold you up right now.

He throws the knife onto the bed a few feet away, then turns you in his grip, holding your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours.

You search his eyes for any signs of softness you’ve grown used to as he studies your face, but it’s long gone by now. His eyes are filled with lust, and he has a devilish smirk as he leans his head down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.

You freeze as you feel his lips working against yours, and it’s not until he lets out a low moan that you finally kiss him back, brain cloudy as you give in to him. You know there’s no way out now, so you might as well go along with his actions.

You hate to admit, but he’s an amazing kisser, and you immediately know who the more eager kisser was between the two masked men when they were in your apartment. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and one of his hands moves up to your jaw to tilt your face further up into the kiss.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you like this?” he murmurs against your lips, and you moan again at his words. You can feel the guilt eating away at you as you feel the familiar feeling of desire in the pit of your tummy and the pool between your thighs, and you hate yourself for being so turned on by how desperately he’s kissing you.

He’s just so attractive, and he’s so eager to have his hands and lips on you that you can’t help the inappropriate thoughts filling your brain. 

“I knew when I saw you at work that I had to have you.” he mutters, pulling back just long enough to take in your tear-stained cheeks and heaving chest.

As he leans back in to place kisses on your neck, you suddenly snap out of it. He killed Grace. And Isaac. Right in front of you.

You continue to let him kiss you, however, and when his grip loosens on you for a split second, you’re pushing him away and racing towards the stairs again. His brain is so fogged over with his need for you, that it takes him a second to respond. He grabs the knife off the bed and follows you down the stairs, an angry expression on your face.

You make it all the way to the kitchen before he’s on you again, grabbing your hips and throwing you to the ground. You yelp in pain as you hit the ground, but roll over quickly, trying to fight him off you as he kneels down to straddle your hips. 

He dropped his knife in the struggle to pin you down, so when he’s finally over top of you, looking down with a devious smile, he has to improvise. 

You feel the air ripped from your lungs as his hands go to your throat, tightening more and more as he watches you struggle to breathe. You’re still thrashing in his grip, but he keeps his hold strong until your movements become slow and sloppy. 

As your eyes flutter closed and everything goes black, the last thing you see is him leaning down to whisper in your ear, and the last thing you hear is his rough voice saying “just let us take care of you, sweet girl.”

next chapter

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