#that on his own and I’m just having a fucking freak out if you couldn’t tell

[fushiguho]

Curiosity & the Poor, Unfortunate Cat ⭑.ᐟ

ᯓ★ Synopsis Toji Fushiguho — an absent father, a college dropout, and a panhandling loiterer who just so happens to be your father’s best friend. Obviously you have to fuck him... out of pity, of course.

Wordcount 4k

Warnings fem!reader, age gap, toji is kind of disrespectful but so are you, so much teasing it’s insane, toji has a filthy mouth (duh), rough sex, unprotected, spanking, abrupt ending, brat taming??

Author's Notes this was inspired by an anon request for toji as your father’s best friend which was so freaking fun to write (everyone say thank yew anonnnn) and this was supposed to be a drabble but i know no limits... i was also channeling a lot of my own desires here #needthat p.s. this blog is under construction, i’m in the midst of transferring my work from my previous account which was marked as explicit boooo :/

Your sheets ruffle as you discontentedly toss in bed, the silken fabric bunching haphazardly while you writhe, empty stomach caving in a ravenous hunger. Internally, you curse yourself, wishing you had eaten the dinner your father prepared earlier, but now, it’s definitely too late. You’re sure Toji has already scarfed whatever was left of it down into that perpetually endless gut of his. You’ve never stood a chance. Alas, you must eat, so with a groan of annoyance, you roll out of bed, padding to the kitchen on the hunt for satiation.

It’s the dead of night. The sacred time of day when nothing is expected of you. When everyone you have ever known is fast asleep and you’re all that remains. Darkness consumes the lifeless house as you shuffle across the carpeted floor. A night light that’s tucked at the end of the long hall flickers like a dwindling torch in the depths of a dark, endless forest. As you creep down the steep staircase, you sigh, taking notice of overhead microwave light already casting a soft, amber glow — there is someone else that too remains.

Toji.

“You can’t keep eating all of our food.” You huff, abruptly announcing your presence as you near the final step, observing the burly, sable haired man that raids your barren fridge. “I don’t even know why my father puts up with you.”

He smells your sweet, gourmand perfume before he even registers your voice. It’s utterly embarrassing how painfully his cock aches from a mere whiff of you, the sound of you. Unabashed, Toji shrugs, stuffing three, large strawberries into his greedy mouth, eyes narrowing on your pretty frame. “Your father loves me, sweetheart… couldn’t have raised your bratty ass without me.” His ravenous gaze lingers far too long, sharp eyes shamelessly flitting across your soft, exposed skin, sizing you up. “And hello to you too. What’s wrong with you young people? Does no one respect their elders anymore?”

“Oh, brother, here we go.” You grumble, bracing yourself for yet another fruitless lecture, arms crossing over your chest as you sit into your right hip. His keen eyes follow your subtle shift in stance. “And your son? Where is he?”

He scoffs. “With his mother, thank you.” Toji rolls his eyes, reaching for another strawberry. “You sure you don’t have homework to do or something? Always pesterin’ me. I’m old, damnit!”

“I graduated three years ago, thank you… though you can’t say the same,” you snide, rudely pushing past him to peer into the refrigerator, “and you're like forty-five… you should've gotten your shit together yesterday.” You add, growing progressively annoyed with his lingering presence. “Did you drink all of the milk again?”

“Heh, oh yeah. Whoops,” he goads, popping the p, “and I’m not that old, you brat.” He mumbles, esteem crumbling at your assumption.

He’s grown accustomed to your biting criticism, though in the beginning, he would almost always quarrel back, which inevitably led to the two of you in a needlessly heated and borderline flirtatious feud. Now, he’s learned to actively ignore your insults but god, he would only be lying if he said your petty, condescending remarks didn’t rewire the chemistry of his brain.

Alas, all he offers is another irritatingly indifferent shrug, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his scarred lips — his own twisted version of remittance. Toji doesn’t give a fuck, not one. He knows your father will replace it by the end of the week like he always does, so why should he?

It has been nearly a decade since your father has all too graciously granted Toji loitering rights to your childhood home. Never has he paid for groceries, for bills, for anything. He is penniless, indolent, and baselessly forthright, but god, is he the finest man you have ever known.

After both your father and Toji’s untimely and coincidentally synchronized divorces, the two have been inseparable ever since, wallowing in their shared pity together. During his unnecessarily messy divorce, Toji lost the house and your father was gracious enough to offer him a place to stay until he secures a stable job.

That was nine years ago.

Weirdly enough, Toji has known you the entirety of your existence, but not you his. From as early as you can remember, he was always just… there, but as time passed and you grew older, things changed; the way you thought about him changed. Before, you thought of him as just one of your father’s degenerate friends from undergrad who fell through the cracks. Today, that notion still holds, but now you want to fuck him, bad.

For years, you’ve imagined what Toji is like behind closed doors, what he would feel like, what he would fuck like. If he’s the type of man that plays with his food before eating it, if he even likes to eat his prey anyway. Maybe he’s the type of predator that prefers stringing his meals along, toying with and teasing them like some cruel, one-sided game and he’s got the unfair advantage. Either way, you don’t think you’d mind.

Countless nights you’ve found yourself sprawled apart with his name on the tip of your tongue. Bare, perspiring body bowing as you brainlessly fuck yourself against one of his sweatshirts that you snagged from the laundry he doesn’t do. There is no doubt that Toji has heard the desperate cries of his name that pour from beneath your paper thin door, your pretty whimpers so incredibly loud and slutty and all for him.

If he wanted, you’d let him have in the worst possible way. You would let him pry you apart and gut you out completely, leaving you nothing but a shell of your former self — drooling, stuffed, and defiled. The utter heinous things you’d commit for a mere taste of his skin is a direct contradiction of who you are and everything your father believes he’s raised you to be. You’re no angel.

Defeated, you close the refrigerator, a deep, irritated sigh dragging from your lips. This man is useless, you think. If not for his maddeningly beautiful face, you’d sock him in it, sending him tumbling to the floor so that you can finally mount him and —

“Do you wanna fuck? Is that it?”

A long, deafening beat passes. You swallow thickly. “… what?”

“You heard me. I asked if you want to fuck.” He reiterates, voice eerily calm as if he couldn’t care less about the proposition at hand. “You’re always so pissed with me, thinkin’ that’s maybe what you need... a good fuck, heh.”

His blatantly unprovoked inquiry is jostling you back into reality, because what? What the hell is wrong with him? Why did the question roll off of his tongue so quickly? So smoothly? As if it’s no big deal, as if this is just another one of his usual, overly prying questions. Is he serious?

“Toji, wha—”

“You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” His head is falling to the right, a sleazy grin marring his slick lips. “You don’t think I see the way you look at me, sweetheart? Not a very discreet girl, I’ll tell you that…” a dark, gut wrenching chuckle rumbles from the depths of his chest, “maybe a noisy one though, hm?” He hums, quirking an omniscient brow.

Guiltily, your gaze is falling to the tiled floor, thighs pressing together as you mumble. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Sure.

He laughs again. “You’re not a good liar either,” he’s creeping closer, the warmth of his breath like kindle to a rampant flame, “but you’re a pretty little thing… you know that already though, huh?” A curious hand is creeping around your waist, slyly reeling you in, the redolence of his cheap, inebriating cologne permeating the sinisterly thick air.

You expel an audible breath, taking a cautious step backward, yet he follows, taking a larger step forward, a step closer. Your skin burns, cheeks warming with crimson. He’s too fucking close and he knows it. What if someone sees? You don’t think you can bear the consequences that’d unfold if your father were to ever find the two of you like this. He would kill Toji, then you, and finally himself for good measure.

But god, do you want to find out. When it comes to human nature, curiosity always seems to prevail and fuck, are you one curious cat. There is something innately deep and pressing within your soul that craves satiation. It yearns to be known, to be explored. A deep, perpetually endless hole that aches — it longs to be filled, to be stuffed. None of your peers can do that for you, you’re convinced.

Your dark, repressed desires are only concerning your stance on feminism, but you don’t care, that’s the very thing. You want to find out. You need that, undoubtedly. Is what they say about older men true? The thought lingers as you contemplate the looming proposition. Yes, he’s your father’s closest friend. Yes, he’s far older than you with a child of his own. And yes, your perpetual obsession is only growing increasingly worrisome by the ticking clock, but truly, who can blame you? Look at him.

“C’monnn, you won’t even look at me, doll?” He frowns, a big hand cupping your chin, pulling your gaze upward. “Thought your father and I taught you better than that, no?”

Another loud, incredulous breath escapes your parted lips. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, cunt drooling.

Just the sweet, innocent quaver of your voice alone makes his cock twitch. His plaid pajama bottoms growing near uncomfortable as the fat, mushroom head leaks against the dampening fabric. What’s left of his dwindling resolve is slipping from his fingertips when you’re finally peering up at him, the coy bat of your lashes so perfectly slutty. Pretty, pleading eyes all wide and glossed over with your evident lust. God, he knows you need it.

Toji groans, conflicted for half a beat before growling a strangled and defeated, ‘fuck it’ then, his lips are slotting against yours in a delirious, haphazard kiss. Large hands blindly creep around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer. “This… this is your fucking fault.” He grouses, warm tongue delving so shamelessly inside of your honeyed mouth, greedily licking his way to the source.

“Fuck me then,” you’re pulling away just barely and he can’t help but to follow, subconsciously chasing your fleeting lips, “make me sorry.” It’s quiet, breathless, your pretty lips ghosting his.

And maybe you shouldn’t have said that, but it’s still not too late to end this — to push him away and say no, this isn’t right. It’s not too late to head to bed and forget any of this ever happened, but the way he’s twirling you around to push you over the marble countertop might be a step too far and damn sure too late.

“Sweetheart, you’ll be so fucking sorry,” a singular hand is peeling your lounge shorts down, down, down your plush thighs until there’s nothing but a pool of silky fabric surrounding your ankles, baring your syrupy folds, “spread those fuckin’ legs for me like a good, obedient girl. Let me see how wet that sloppy pussy is.”

With your face snug against the marble, all you can manage is a weak, fruitless gasp of his name, the warmth of your frantic breaths condensing the frigid countertop. You’re craning your head to the side, rising to the palms of your hands to observe the burly man that looms behind you. Fuck, he’s going to kill you.

He simpers, trailing several, curious fingers from your swollen clit allll the way down to your visibly tightening hole which drools endlessly. Pearlescent gossamers of arousal cling to the pads of his fat digits, kissing his skin in a beautiful sheen of your bountiful essence. The warm, abrupt stretch of his careless fingers as they sink deeeeep inside of your slobbering hole is peerless, prying your jaw open in a pretty, guttural moan — so raw and primal and all for him.

“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you, girl… sound even prettier up close,” he’s leaning down to better observe your desperate wails of rapture, pressing his clothed cock against the rear of your bare ass in the process, “got me fucking my hand like an idiot to the sound of you. How rude is that?” His breath hot and laden with lust against the crook of your neck.

Another wanton moan is belting from your gaped mouth at his confession. You can hardly help the pathetic buck of your hips, weakly fucking yourself against the stocky hand that cups your pretty pussy. The gnawing stretch of his fingers set your skin ablaze and yet, it’s not enough. You need more.

“Just f-fuck me… please? Before he gets home.” God, you are so fucking cute, bottom lip quivering in… fear? Anticipation?

Toji frowns feigndly. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared now, sweet girl?” A warm, calloused palm is splaying across the thick of your hip, pulling you closer to the edge of the marble. “Sure doesn’t feel like it…” he taunts, dragging his fingers out of you to smear your prolific arousal between your swollen lips and the slit of your ass, soon bringing them up to your stupidly gaped mouth, “doesn’t it taste like it either, huh?” He prompts you to taste yourself, his long, drooling digits hanging before your subconsciously parting lips.

And god, you could fucking cum right there, cunt throbbing embarrassingly around nothing but the fleeting memory of his fingers. You hardly have the time to loll out your tongue before he’s rudely stuffing his fingers into your warm, obedient mouth. A synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from both of your slacked jaws, yours muffled by his fat digits and his so careless and plainly conquered by his ineffable lust.

You hum contentedly around his thick fingers, cleaning your own arousal from them like the good whore he always knew you’d be. Drool spills from the corners of your lips and down his burly knuckles, coating his hand in an obscene mess of your sweet saliva. His fingers are deliberately creeping farther down your slutty little throat, forcing a proper gag from the pit of your core, more of your saliva consequently cascading down his palm.

Like the nasty slut he is, he’s pulling them out of your mouth, only to plop them inside of his own, sucking and drooling down those very digits, his cruel gaze holding yours. A guttural groan belts from the depths of his chest, sable eyes fluttering shut as he hums in satisfaction. Your mouth falls wide, jaw slacked as pretty little pants of incredulity pour from it, poor cunt aching in your ever growing arousal. What. The. Fuck.

“What? Nothing else to fuckin’ say, huh?” Those same fingers are running along your cunt once more, messily smearing the sinful amalgamation of married saliva. They’re sweeping across your swollen clit before slowly sinking back inside of you, preparing you. “Always talkin’ so much shit to me. Gonna shut you up real soon, sweetheart… swear to god.”

A stupid gasp parts your lips, stomach caving in arousal at the sound of him hastily slipping out of his plaid bottoms. A greedy hand is latching to the back of your right knee, pulling your leg up to pin it against the cool marble. The sight of your pretty pussy in all of her sloppy glory makes his cock twitch, the head dripping in sinful rivulets of pearlescent arousal.

You can barely stand the way he takes his cock into his fist, idly pumping his pretty erection, a slutty grin spreading across his scarred lips. From his girthy base allll the way to the fat, leaking head, he strokes himself, but not before swiping the pad of his thumb across the drooling opening, spreading his arousal down the expanse of his monstrous length. You fucked up. Royally.

“God,” you mumble, turning back around to stuff your face into the crook of your arm in utter horror, “god, I am s…so sorry.”

And he fucking laughs. Laughs at your apology; it’s loud and obnoxious and so clearly intended to piss you off because you’re not sorry, you’re scared and he knows it. He can see the way your body trembles atop the counter, drooling cunt shamelessly exposed with your leg hiked up so rudely. The way your big, pleading eyes widen in fear as he creeps closer. Even your futile attempt to scoot away when he begins to drag the head of his cock between both of your slutty holes, almost as if he can’t decide which to ruin first.

“Nuh uh… c’mere,” he nearly growls, impertinently pulling you back before him by the flimsy fabric of your night shirt, a disapproving grunt ensuing, “tryna run away from me, huh?” Two, large hands are groping the fat of your ass, brazenly spreading you apart. “Oughta’ teach you some fuckin’ manners… such a mean little thing. Hell’s wrong with you?”

The head of his cock rests so heavily against your sloppy hole, hot precum oozing against the mess of slick that adorns your pretty pussy. Toji slaps the dense head against your lips once. A droning, helpless mewl pours from your gaped mouth, only for him to do it again, and again, and again. A lewd and deafening plap! plap! plap! reverberates throughout the dimly lit kitchen, sticky gossamers of married arousal tethering you as one.

“Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he admits, briefly dipping the head of his cock inside of you, dragging a wanton whimper from your lips, “such a shame y’er so mean to me… would’ve had you like this years ago if not for that nasty little mouth of yours.” He’s sinking inside of you yet again, but only to pull out when he’s gone too deep.

If your father were to walk into this kitchen at this very moment, he’d be utterly appalled. Horrified. You’re writhing beneath him, hips bucking so sluttily against his teasing cock. God, you have never craved something so horribly in your life; you could just die from the sheer deprivation and it’s hilarious to him. He’s taunting you like it’s some cruel fucking game and he’s got the upper hand.

Again, he laughs. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?”

“Yes, fuck.” You growl, evidently frustrated.

“Awwww you mad, sweetheart?” He irritatingly coos, leaning down to press a wet, openmouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. “Is that poor pussy frustrated huh?” Another sloppy kiss between the valley of your shoulder blades, the head of his cock gliding between your glossy lips, spreading you apart. “Heh, she’s cryin’ for it, such a messy girl… drooling all over my cock like that.”

“Please,” it’s a broken, shameless plea as you crane your head, beautiful tears of desperation pricking your eyes, your pride somewhere so far gone, “pleasepleaseplease.”

A dark, breathy chuckle parts his lips, aching cock jerking against your awaiting hole. For years, he’s imagined you just like this — begging and crying for his cock like some insatiable whore. If anything, he’s denying himself; though, what’s left of his restraint quickly perishes at the sight of your sobbing hole tightening around nothing, kissing his shaft in a gleaming, warm mess.

He almost can’t help but to sink inside of you again, instead this time, he’s giving you everything, all of his twitching cock. The abrupt intrusion forces an incredulous gasp past your lips, a low, throaty groan dragging from his slack jaw in tandem. And just as he thought, your greedy pussy is swallowing his fat cock to the base effortlessly, almost as if it was hand tailored for you.

You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run — to clamber across the countertop and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move. He’s got you pinned to the marble, a heavy hand at the rear of your neck, the other splayed across the thick of your hip, pulling you back onto his cock. It aches. The delirious stretch of his cock and how it steals your breath away, your mouth sagged, yet nothing is uttered. For once in your life, you’re speechless.

“Is this really all it takes, huh?” His hips are reeling back, the shiny essence of your arousal sheathing the entirety of his cock. “God, is this all it fucking takes to shut you up? A cock in this slutty little pussy, huhhh?” The bruising snap of his hips as he pummels forward nearly has you gushing down the length of him all too soon. “Answer me… and use your big girl words, c’mon sweetheart.” 

A loud, desperate gasp of air is all you can manage, bottom lip trembling as you attempt to say something, anything. The hand that holds your neck is threading throughout your mussed hair, forcing your gaze onto his and he can’t help but to laugh at your stupid expression — drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, thick brows knitted so tightly as your pretty eyes threaten to cross. Of course you can’t fucking speak, you’re drunk.

“My goodness, I wish you could see yourself… you’re so stupid on it,” he admires almost endearingly, a warm, mindless thumb grazing your bottom lip, “that perfect fucking face, god. You are so pretty taking it, such a goooood pretty slut for that cock, fuck.” The near possessive growl that belts from the depths of his lungs is like nothing you have ever heard — so filthy and shameless and ridden with his unbearable lust.

Toji is completely losing himself in the wet, endless abyss of pleasure that is you. Babbling nothing but loud, reckless praises, your pretty name spilling so willfully from his slutty tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously jerking you back onto his cock. His big, greedy hands tighten so possessively around your pretty waist, meeting himself halfway. The obscene plap! of his achingly full balls beating up your quivering clit with each ensuing thrust.

“Thaaat’s it, you’re so good, that pussy is so fucking good… takin’ it soo deep for me.” He mindlessly blabbers, a large hand creeping beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers sweeping across your soft, perspiring skin.

Every coherent thought you have ever had is long forgotten, poor mind completely barren. He’s the only thing you can hear, think, feel — the greedy hands that wordlessly command you, the warm stretch of his drooling cock as it wholly splits you apart. Even the fat, curious thumb that’s sinking inside of that other poor, neglected hole of yours is prying your lips open in a helpless mewl of pleasure.

“It’s sooo good… sooofuckingooood, oh my god.” You snarl, teeth bared and his jaw nearly unhinges — you sound so fucking pretty. “I love it, I love it, I loveee your c-cock.”

“Yeaaah, sweetheart?” He coos, heavy head deliriously falling back to dangle between his broad shoulders. “God, you needed this, didn’t you? Look at your hips buck like such a nasty slut.” A loud, ear splitting smack! lands against the fat of your ass. “Do you dream about it after you fuck yourself and cum all over my clothes, huh?” Another smack! to the other cheek, your poor cunt consequently squeezing down the base of his cock. “No fucking shame either.”

You possess half the brain to respond, not sure whether to shake your head or nod, too far gone to even make sense of anything anymore. Moan after unrestrained moan spill from both of your raptured tongues, the two of you sharing a few synchronous gasps of air or delirious cries of overwhelming pleasure. It’s the most debauched, yet utterly erotic thing you have ever experienced, but then, there’s a loud, roaring voice that’s stilling Toji’s hips.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

Fuck.

© fushiguho.

[rainydayarcaneimagines]

One Last Night(Jayce x reader)

Warnings: SHIELD YOUR EYES FOR THE UNCOVERED ANKLES (smut. There is smut.)

It was all a shock. To land in an alternate reality where everything was fucked up. But it was an even bigger shock to him when he went to go back to his own and still ended up in the wrong reality.

There he was and everything was…

Great?

Life was almost a damn Utopia. What was crazier was Zaun and Piltover were put together and better functioning than his own damn reality. He walked the streets absolutely fucking baffled by what was happening before him. He heard tidbits and realized that in this reality his creation killed Vi, but was destroyed in the process.

From what he managed to understand, he had basically gone through his trial by getting his experiment confiscated. Even weirder, Jayce was successful in other ways but not… actually hextech.

It was beyond bizarre. Especially since… you were alive. No hextech meant no advanced weapons, no explosion, no explosion meant you were alive. Now he was fixated on finding you. If he was stuck there, he had to find you.

He had looked high and low.

And nothing.

Not a freaking sign. He sighed, sitting at a booth in a bar with his head in his hands when the gods seemed to finally answer his prayers.

“Can I get you anything sir?”

Jayce’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. You were fucking beautiful. Your hair was longer, dyed a vibrant color, just like you always said you wanted but weren’t ballsy enough to go through with it. Your eyes were brighter. You seemed happy.

“Y/n..” he breathed.

“Yeah that’s my name dude, don’t abuse it.” You chuckled.

“Jayce— it’s me Jayce.” He said staring at you. You squinted.

“Uh… do I know you man?” You asked confused. Oh fuck. No hextech meant you never got hired at the academy to be his assistant…

“Fuck uhm…” he sighed. You looked at him confused.

“You okay?” You asked. Your kindness was definitely still there.

“Uh… Shit I uhm.” He couldn’t form words. You were alive. The love of his fucking life was alive. But didn’t know who he was.

“…Need a drinking buddy?” You asked.

“…Yeah that uhm… Yes please.” He nodded.

“Vander! I’m taking my break!” You called out. Holy crap— Vander and Silco were alive?! And running a damn bar—“what’s got you so weirded out right now?” You asked.

“Why do you think I’m weirded out?” He muttered.

“Because you looked… bugged out, like you just took a fucking ice bath dude.” You shrugged. Glad to see your bluntness was still intact too.

Jayce smiled sadly before sighing. “I uhm… well I just… feel like a fish out of water.” He admitted.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“…” did he risk sounding nuts, potentially causing you to freak the fuck out? Did he risk pushing you away from him? Fuck it. Things were still out of control in his reality, he needed to find a way back and there was someone he knew had a brilliant enough of a damn mind to make it work. “This is going to sound crazy but—“

He explained it all. From start to finish. You of course, stared at him like he was nuts. “Yeah but do you have proof dude, because right now you sound batshit.” You said after the explanation.

He sighed leaning back. “Your favorite song is Midnight blues. But you always say it’s Eros.” He says. You snorted.

“Okay weirdo maybe you just lurk on my Next tune—“

“You are allergic to peanuts. You always wanted a poro but your allergies stop you so you have a hairless cat instead. You love to sit on top of the old factory at night because it overlooks everything and you love to see the city at night, you love ionian literature, you hate the sounds of trucks that run too loud and flip off the driver every time you see one.” He listed off. Some of those were habits you knew no one would know. And he knew this. “You wear your grandmother’s locket. It has a picture of both your grandparents inside, the damn thing is almost eighty years old and has their initials engraved on the heart.” That. That detail made you believe him. Because you wore your locket, yes. But it was tucked inside your shirt so the pendant wouldn’t fall off.

You stared at him “..How did you—“

“Because in my reality we were together.” He said softly.

“…oh” you said. That’s why this guy stared at you like you completed his life just by merely existing. “Did we break up or something—“

“You died, Y/n… some girl— uhm… she went nuts and shot off a missile into a council meeting. Killed half the council, my partner got severely injured and… you died.” He muttered.

You blinked “…No offense, really. But if… your reality is really that shit, why are you so eager to go back?” You asked.

“Because before I ended up in this one, I saw what happens when I don’t succeed. I gotta say. It’s bad.” He said. You sighed.

“Why… tell me all this?” You asked.

“Because I know your mind. I know your talent Y/n, if anyone can help me I know it’s you.” He said softly. You stared at him before sighing again and running your fingers through your hair.

“…I mean I don’t even know how to start with time travel.” You admitted.

“I don’t either.” He admitted. “But… I think if we work together we can figure it out.” He said softly. He put his hand over yours that rested on the table and you pulled away. He mentally scolded himself that you didn’t know him in this reality.

“Okay I mean I can try but don’t be disappointed if me in this universe isn’t a damn genius.” You said leaning back in the booth. You seemed to have a lightbulb moment. “But my dad might know.” You added.

Your dad. You never mentioned even in your relationship in his reality who your dad was. He assumed he wasn’t around in his reality.

“Hey! Dad!” You called. Silco looked over.

“Yes kid?” He asked. Jayce froze. Silco? Silco the gods damned inventor was your dad? The man who basically made Vi’s sister into Jinx was your dad? That’s why you never mentioned this?!

“Come here for a sec.” You motioned. He walked from behind the bar and sat down. With zero hesitation you explained everything Jayce had told you. You trusted Silco. You clearly loved your dad too.

“…Well this is… interesting.” He said.

“Yeah. Any idea where to start?” You asked.

“My best educated guess is string theory. You made a major event. You came back here from a major event. So maybe make a major event. Your uh… hex something or other, doesn’t exist in this world, do you know how to make it again?” He asked.

“Yeah..” he admitted.

“Then I’d start there. And maybe try to do what you did to your core in your timeline to that one?” He suggested.

“That’s… solid advice. Thank you silco.” He nodded. The fuck? Silco never said his name..

“Right. Be careful Y/n.” He muttered before getting up.

“Thanks dad.” You nodded. Jayce looked at you. “What?” You asked.

“Your dad is Silco?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. Why? Was he not in your reality” You asked.

“No he was but… nevermind.” Jayce sighed.

“We can use my dad’s workshop. Plenty of space. Come on.”

You started working. Days Jayce spent close to you, working on calculations and making a hexcore. Many nights he found you sleeping at your desk. And every time his coat would be wrapped around you in the morning when you woke up.

It was strange. A man you swear you had never met loved you so much that you could tell that the closer you got to cracking this, the more he struggled with the idea of losing all you over again.

It had been a week. You walked over to him sitting on the couch with calculations.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. He looked up and nodded. “…Were we happy?” You asked softly.

His focused gaze cracked to a soft fondness. “We were.” He told you.

“…And even though I don’t really know you… do you still love—“

“Without question.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence. You almost felt sad. To have such a firm romantic love from someone, even if it was from another timeline but not be able to know, to share that feeling with this man that seemed to unconditionally love you…

There was guilt. You thought of throwing him a line, flirt with him. But you didn’t want what you knew were his last memories with you to be a lie. You couldn’t force yourself to love this stranger either.

“Jayce?”

“Mhm?”

“What if we went on a date?” You asked. He seemed shocked by this suggestion. “I mean… you feel this love for me. And judging by the way you mentioned your memories of other me, it was mutual and it… bugs me that I can’t really share that.” You said.

He looked at you like he was happy yet still… sad. “Sure, Y/n. Where would you like to go?” He asked softly. He couldn’t refuse one last lasting memory with you. Not when this wound still felt this fresh.

“Uh… well I dunno. This version of me never went on a date before so..”

“Mm. I can figure it out. Come on.” He said getting up.

“Oh— now?”

“Yeah. I know where we should go. Come on.” He said softly.

So you went. On a date. From that moment on, every night was a date. Spend the day working with this strange little blue glowy ball, then go off to dinner. What was worse? You knew this version of you was going to lose him. But you still fell in love with him anyway.

It was the final night. The last piece had been clicked into place thanks to Ekko and Heimerdinger in the same damn predicament. Heimerdinger insisted he needed to make adjustments. In reality he was giving the boys time to say goodbye.

You sat across from him in your apartment. “So this is it… after tonight you’re going back.” You said softly.

“Yeah… yeah I uhm… I am.” He nodded clearing his throat.

You looked in his eyes “…I didn’t expect this to be hard.”

“For what to be—“

“You leaving.” Jayce went silent. You drew in breath “…after these dates, these… times… I get why I loved you, Jayce.”

He swallowed hard. “Then… let’s treat this night like it really is our last.” He said softly.

You looked over at him “how?”

He pulled you closer to him from the chair you were sitting in. “…Let me love you for one last night.” He said softly. You broke at that. This was your last night. You were losing the only romantic love you have ever known. You had had “situationships” that pretty much were just sex but nothing like this. You had two options. Cry….

Or cherish it.

You kissed him. For the first time you kissed someone. Was this absolutely bizarre? Oh fuck yeah. But you didn’t regret it.

He pulled you even closer, into his lap, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He needed you like fucking air right now. One final victory before the bigger fight he knew he’d come back to.

He kissed you, over and over again, his fingers in your hair, his other hand on your back holding you close. You slid off your shirt and his eyes widened.

“Y/n are you sure—“

“I don’t want to think anymore Jayce… I just… I want to feel.” You whispered. So that’s what he did. He kissed your neck, unhooking your bra, cupping your breast in his hand. He rolled your nipple through his fingers and you buried your face in his neck.

“We can back out at any time Y/n—“

“Don’t stop” you breathed out. No. Not breathed. You moaned. Any semblance of control the man may have had flew out the window as he pushed you onto the couch.

Kiss after kiss, hickey after hickey his hand moved lower undoing your pants. He slid his hand past the hem of your panties and you gasped, your hands covering your mouth.

He pulled them away with his freehand. “Let me hear you.” He said in your ear, rubbing circles over your clit. Your eyes fluttered closed, your hands moving to his hair as you took moaning breaths.

“J-Jayce I need—“

“I know baby. I know.” He said pulling off your pants. There you were sprawled out naked under him as he pulled off his belt. He let it hit the floor with a soft clatter and he gently spread your thighs.

“Gods if we had time I’d be worshipping you right now,” he murmured. You kissed him as he lined himself up. With a gasp from you he pushed in and you gripped the couch moaning as he moved. He went the pace he knew you loved. Deep, and fast.

“Oh gods— don’t stop please don’t fucking stop!” You moaned.

“That’s it. Let me hear you.” He whispered in your ear. Gods his voice as he was absolutely railing you was making this very difficult not to finish on the spot. It didn’t help that his fingers found their way back to your clit rubbing circles as he kept going with his thrusts.

In.

Breaths kept mingling

Out.

Kisses and moans filled the room.

Back in.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

Back out.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as he thrusted, your head tilting back. The release hit you both, his face buried in your neck as he panted against you.

After a few minutes he pulled away looking in your eyes. You looked at him with that same warmth. That soft smile. But from both of you it had an underlying sadness. You looked in his eyes before you swallowed hard, looking down.

“…Jayce..?” You murmured

“Yeah?”

“Do you… really have to go?” You mumbled. He sighed softly.

“Believe me. If I didn’t, I would stay right here with you.” He muttered.

“What if I went with you..?” You muttered.

“Baby, I don’t know how that would go… you died in my reality. If I brought you from this one… you might die… again.” He said softly.

You looked sad. “I’m never going to see you again… am I?” You murmured.

“…I don’t know. I will find a way to come back once all this shit in my reality is over.” He murmured. You swallowed hard.

“And if you can’t?” You muttered.

“I will.” He said determined. You looked in his eyes. You could tell he meant it.

“Then let’s get you to that weird little core then.”

[mv1simp]

Slow Down♥️

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader (SocialMedia!AU)

I’m so down if you’re ready, I’ll show you if you let me, girl (she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said okay)

You and Max Verstappen are very well known in the media, for having one of the most volatile rivalries in the sporting world. But Ferrari’s Princess and Redbull’s Mad Max send shockwaves through the paddock when your PR teams confirm you’re officially dating. The public have a hard time believing it…until your sex tape gets leaked on Twitter a month later. Social Media!AU

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, trying my hand at a SM! AU for the first time!!, dom! Max and switch! Reader, size kink, sexism, max being a feminist king

Everyone always said there was a thin line between love and hate. Frankly, you find it to be sexist bullshit, rolling your eyes everytime some interviewer or your friends or trainer would make some sly comment about so what’s going on between you and Max, with a suggestive wiggle of their eyebrows. Nothing, just him trying to run me off the track repeatedly and giving me 4 bruised ribs in Singapore when he clipped me illegally, you say with an annoyed tone. You know that if you were a man, and not the first female driver in decades in F1, you wouldn’t be getting randomly shippedwith all the drivers. And for gods sake, Verstappen off all people was the most laughable idea. The man was either being a violent menace on the track or an immature twelve year old off it, you think vehemently. You two had stayed well out of each others way in your Haas seat last year, with you leading the mid pack in the suboptimal car but Max remaining well out of reach at the front of the pack. But this year, you’d earned yourself a Ferrari seat and were ecstatic to finally be able to compete for a WDC.

That was, until you and Max Verstappen suddenly started to keep getting caught in each others crosshairs. What started as polite indifference between two coworkers blew up into a PR frenzy, with you and Max completing for the top step in the podium every race weekend. He thought you a reckless driver, getting lucky in a rocket ship this year and trying to sink her claws into something she can’t handle. You thought him over arrogant, a man who couldn’t handle losing to a girl, his fragile ego unable to handle losing a 4th WDC to a Ferrari driver who was only in her second F1 season.

And then, two months out from the end of the season, everything changed between you and Max. On a night out in Monaco with your friends, celebrating being home from triple headers, you’d had the unfortunate experience of being cornered by some drunk, sexist creep who thought he was entitled to touch you. He’d been stronger than you expected, pinning you in a dark alleyway and you just when you starting to freak out, Max of all people practically threw the guy off you. He’d angrily spat at the drunk to pick on someone his own size or he’d break his jaw next time, before leading you to his car with a gentle hand. Normally, you found Max’s far larger frame to be annoying, another way for him to intimidate you when he glared downwards. But that night you couldn’t help but be grateful for the muscular, tall man and his attentive blue eyes as you willingly follow him with wide, doe eyes.

The ride home had been silent, you nervously clutching the large sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you from his backseat. And when you’d thanked him for his help, saying you appreciate him looking out for you even though he hated you, he looked at you with genuine surprise. I don’t hate you, he’d said. Well, I suppose we have had our differences on the track. You snickered at this, muttering that’s one way of putting it. Max chuckled, making you peer at him curiously as you’d never heard him do that in your presence. He was actually very handsome, you noted, without an angry scowl on his face or that Redbull helmet covering him. Then you tell your tipsy brain to shut up because where the hell had that thought suddenly come from?!

But really, I think you’re a pretty amazing girl off the track, Max continued. It must be hard being the only female driver, but you always have something good to say to the dumb interview questions you get. And I’m not going to stand by and let any woman be felt up by some creep. Even if it’s the Princess of Ferrari, he adds with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at this, stepping out of his car as you reach your apartment. And when you offer him his hoodie back, he tells you to keep it. You can use it to stay warm at the next race - it’s Brazil, very rainy. Did I mention I’m called the rainmaster, incidentally? You burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety, and he smiles at having distracted you, making the scared look in your pretty doe eyes from earlier disappear. Fuck off, Verstappen, you giggle, and for once your words have no real bite.

By the time your second F1 season is over, and you’re receiving your trophy for the world championship at the Prizegiving Gala, the first female to do so, you and Max Verstappen have became good friends. Maybe something more, from all the time you’ve started spending together off the track gaming, playing padel, and going out drinking. You were far too afraid to ever say something to him, knowing the media response to the first female driver dating a fellow driver would be absolutely brutal. Besides, you had no idea if Max remotely felt the same way about you - his type seemed to be pretty models, not aggressive drivers who spent half her time plotting his downfall.

You’re surprised when he finds you at the after party, late into the night, where everyone is too plastered to note that the fallen Redbull champion is taking the winning Ferrari Princess to a private level on the yacht. If you think I’m going to apologise for breaking your winning streak, you can try again, you announce dramatically as you grin at him, 5 drinks in and pink lips loosened, letting him know you were jesting. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess, Max hums, coming to stand so close to you that your heart rate quickens when you feel warmth radiating from the taller, muscular driver. Besides, I’ll be taking the cup next year, anyways. Enjoy the high while you can, he says in his Dutch accent, all cocky.

You let out an outraged gasp at this, forgetting how close you two already are as you step towards him, accusing hand pressed against his firm chest. But before you can say anything, Max’s gorgeous blue eyes drop down to where your manicured nails are touching his pecs. And then he looks down further, to where your plush tits have pressed up against his abs, your cute red corset minidress pushing your cleavage up temptingly. There’s no mistaking the dark desire that swirls in his intense gaze as he looks back into your wide doe eyes. And then he’s leaning in, finally, you think, and then your brain wakes up and you remember who’s in front of you. We can’t, Max, you say breathlessly, dazed by how attractive he looks when turned on. Why not, the Dutchman demands, cocky as usual. You don’t want this, Princess? His large hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face upwards when you try to look away. Your breath hitched from the contact, and you’re sure he can feel how fast your carotid pulse is beating. It’s-it’s not that I don’t want to, you say with a blush, making a pleased smirk appear on Max’s lips. But I’m the only female driver on the grid, the public would tear me apart if they found out I hooked up with another driver on the grid-

Fuck what anyone else thinks, Max says passionately, the familiar spark of defiance in his eyes. I know the fallout from something like this would be much harder for you as a woman than me, and I waited till after the championship fight finished. No one can contest you didn’t win the cup with your own sheer skill. But now that it’s finished, I can’t hold back anymore. Your jaw drops from Max’s heated confession, never having guessed the handsome blonde would reciprocate your buried romantic feelings. And I don’t mean some one night stand or summer fling, he continued boldly. I want to be your boyfriend, I want you all to myself properly.

You must have had too many G&Ts, you hear yourself say distantly, cause you’re not even a little bit cute and shy like you normally are off the track, Verstappen. He smiles gently, knowing you were using humour to deflect from the swirling emotions within you. Maybe, he murmurs, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. Or maybe you look so fucking gorgeous in this red dress I knew I couldn’t hide how I feel anymore. When he feels your hand graze his chest, pulling him just a bit closer, he knows what you want. Pressing the gentlest of kisses to your glossed lips, he pulls back to make sure you still wanted more.

But he didn’t need to have any doubts, because you’re staring up at him sultrily, desire having darkened your own wide, doe eyes. This time you’re pulling him back onto your lips, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders so that there’s not even a millimetre of space between you too. He groans against you as the months of tension come to a head, the two of you languidly exploring each others’ mouths with your tongues.

Even if you’d woken up the next morning regretting your decision, there was no way you could turn down Max’s offer of a relationship. Because even if you had still hated him, the sex that night on the yacht has been so incredibly mind blowing, by far the best orgasm you had ever experienced, that you knew you’d never meet anyone who could fuck you so perfectly again. So you hesitantly said yes, let’s try this for real, Max over a late hungover brunch the next morning. The rest had been history - the two of you had spent the last 7 months in a secret relationship, not wanting the chaos of the media to ruin your relationship before it could even start properly. Max has proven time and time again you’d made the right decision saying yes, being the perfect boyfriend, dedicated to all your needs and wants, spoiling you endlessly and making you laugh whenever you had a bad day.

Sometimes things were hard, of course. Like when you two had tensions during a race, your private relationship doing nothing to dampen the competitive spirit you both shared. But you’d both make up after, whether it be with a long debrief and strategy talk on how to avoid an incident next time - or your personal favourite, some angry make up sex. Like you’d suspected, Max was an absolute sex god and you two enjoyed a very healthy sex life, exploring each others kinky preferences. So when you’d have to be away from each other for long periods, busy with planning and meetings at your separate team bases, your boyfriend came up with a solution once the nudes and phone sex didn’t quite hit the same.

Filming yourselves during sex seemed like a certain recipe for disaster, given how famous the two of you are and the consequences of anything got leaked. But the temptation was too great as weeks drag on without the touch of your boyfriend - so you agreed, just this once, to try it out.

Well, that had certainly been the plan. But the video had been so so nice to watch again and again anytime your pussy ached for Max that you can’t resist making more. And then last month when your teams had finally given the okay for an official announcement on your relationship, and the media response had overall been surprisingly positive, you two get too comfortable and Max accidentally sent the video over DM to you, instead of the encrypted chat you normally use.

And that was when shit hit the fan.

No, Max, go away, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to see anyone ever again! The blonde Dutchman sighs he leans his head against the closed bathroom door with a worried expression on his face. You’ve locked yourself in his Monaco penthouse’s bathroom for the past 4 hours, not coming out despite how much he’s pleaded. Please, schatje, he tries again. I know it’s bad, but we’ll get through it together. Twitter had already banned any links of the video and both your PR teams are doing damage control and so many of the grid drivers and journalists were calling out the website that had leaked the tape. Please, I just want to see you, you can’t be locked in there forever and reading all the stuff online alone.

When you don’t reply, only sniffling through the door, he sighs again and slides down the door, making himself comfortable. A few minutes later he hears the door unlock and your red, crying face peeking through. Oh, schatje, he croons soothingly as you drop down into his arms and bury your face in his thick neck. He rubs soothing circles along your back as you sniffle that Everyone’s saying such horrible things, Maxie. How am I going to face going on the paddock ever again?

He reassures you firmly that you two would go hand in hand, united on the paddock with your heads held high, because you’ve done nothing wrong. He’d been doing the media game a lot longer than you and knew this scandal, like everything else, would get blown over with time. After your quiet sobs settle with his comforting words and tight hug, you pull back to look at him and apologise for shutting yourself away and not checking in on him. It’s your leaked tape too, you say anxiously. How are you feeling about it, baby?

He eases your concern again, telling you honestly that in the grand scheme of things, although it was a little mortifying he’s had worse in the media. Besides, it’s gonna be satisfying to crush whichever little fucker leaked the vid, he says vehemently. Any anyone who’s saying any bullshit sexist comments about you sleeping your way into F1 or anything is getting hit with a defamation lawsuit from legal, he declares, making your heart swell from his protectiveness. You still aren’t convinced, though. Are you sure, Max? I remember in that particular video, you can’t see much of my body but there’s definitely a lot of shots of your…

Dick? Your boyfriend finishes with a deadpan expression, That’s fine. Besides, I’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You know the hashtag Verstappen’s third leg is trending on Twitter now? You giggle at his nonchalance, making Max smile at seeing you cheered up. You’ve finally having processed what happened enough to maybe see a bit of humour in it. True, I suppose it could have been worse, you muse. The Las Vegas video could have been the leaked one. Imagine how batshit the fans would have gotten if they saw the handcuffs were for you, not me. Max laughs genuinely, blue eyes looking fondly at your mischievous expression. The familiar Ferrari fire he adored was back in your own pretty doe eyes.

Or worse, the Barcelona one, you tease as you lead him to the kitchen to start making dinner. Scrolling through hundreds of posts and spiralling was calorie consuming work. I think Twitter would have shut down if they found out Max Verstappen likes being called daddy in the bedroom.

Your boyfriend’s face goes adorably pink as he stammers at your unexpected roast. Hey-hey now, schat, that was just one time okay? You’d just accidentally said it and it caught me off guard-

You grin playfully, giving him a kiss on the cheek because he looked too cute to resist. Sure, baby, so off guard you lasted 5 seconds after that. His face goes even pinker, reaching the tips of his ears now as he shyly looks away. For all his fierceness on the track, you loved how sweet the Dutch Lion was off it. Giggling, you put him out of his misery by handing him a knife and tell him to get to work chopping the tomatoes. You knew no matter what came your way, you would be fine with Max by your side.

—————————————————————————

A/N: okkk so what did u guys think at my first attempt at a social media AU ahaha. You know I love to yap I fear I included too many Twitter screenshots, I ALWAYS GET CARRIED AWAY. Anyway this was super fun pulled me right out of my writers block!!! Hope u enjoy xx

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[joelsmochi]

every man gets his wish - joel miller

rating: E 18+ pairing: neighbor!joel x f!pornstar!reader summary: joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;) warnings: not proofread, no physical descriptions other than reader having an unidentified tattoo on her thigh and nice peach, unspecified age gap (ur choice pookie), [m] masturbation, objectively joel is a bit of a perv, some awkward dialogue, literal porn. literally, degradation (they get a lil rough), f + m oral, smacking/spanking, daddy kink (slight ddlg vibes too), pet names and plenty of dirty talk YUM wc: 3.2k a/n: happy valentine's day smut sluts :D!

series masterlist | main masterlist

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, but he’d recognize that tattoo anywhere; his gaze followed the tattoo on the back of your thigh as you rode your cute little excuse for a toy.

Your soft moans and breaths echoing through the speakers on his laptop made his legs tremble against the old desk chair in his room while he fucked his fist.

He didn’t even think twice about the video he clicked on. He just knew he was horny and in need of quick release, so he typed his favorite keywords into Pornhub’s search engine and clicked the sixth video that only showed your ass. He realized he never noticed how juicy it was, and the oil or lotion or lube or whatever you fucking used to make it so goddamn shiny only emphasized how perfect it was.

Staring at the screen, he grasped the armrest in one hand and cock in the other, watching your puffy pussy cream all over the dildo. He matched the strokes of his hand with the rhythm of you bouncing. Slowing down, speeding up, only fucking the tip or grinding—he reenacted every movement of yours as best he could.

Even waiting until you were shaking and shouting the words, “I’m cumming—fuck yes! Just like that baby,” before cumming with you.

He watched the last few minutes of the video, watching you slap the dildo on your creamy cunt and play with it a little more along with standing up off of your bed and jiggling your ass in your hands. You giggled softly watching yourself. Then, much to his surprise, you sat down in front of the camera and smiled.

He wasn’t expecting you to reveal your face, so when the video ended he looked out of his bedroom window into yours. You were lying on the bed reading a book in the very spot where you recorded that filthy video.

You weren’t trying to tease him, he knew that, but it certainly felt that way.

♡

Joel had successfully managed to evade you for a week feigning work has been keeping him too tired for company. He found himself a touch jealous that the world had seen you naked before him despite your relationship being completely platonic.

You owed him nothing, not even an explanation, but he still felt weirdly possessive over you. He had a slight crush on you when you first moved in, but you were so much younger than he was, and in his eyes you'd want nothing to do with such an old man like himself. Not to mention the 'crush' was mostly just a lingering desperation to fuck you.

The discovery led him to do a deep dive into your profile on the website. There he discovered what seemed like a plethora of your content along with your affinity for degradation whether it was to yourself or towards others.

However he felt like he could finally breathe when he saw it was all solo content. You didn't even seem to entertain the idea of fucking someone else and uploading it. He even felt a sliver of hope that he could be your first real fuck on camera, but if he already struggled with confronting his own feelings towards you then how could he ever open up the opportunity to doing a video with you?

Joel was finally over avoiding you. He was ready to admit his discovery to you and go from there. He just prayed you wouldn't freak out.

"Hi, Joel!" You greeted after opening your front door. "What's been goin' on cowboy, I've been a little lonely on this side of town."

He followed your actions and sat on your sofa; as instant as a heartbeat you noticed he was off. Nervous? Worry? Anger? You struggled to read him.

"Somethin' the matter?"

He pulled himself out of his daze and looked at you, mouth hanging open like he couldn't manage the words. They just sort of... Spilled out.

"I found your porn on PornHub the other day and I don't care that you sell porn. I really don't. You're a grown woman and it's your body and you can do whatever you want. I just felt wrong not tellin' you."

Poor Joel.

You wanted to laugh at him, tell him there was no guilt in finding it or even watching it (because let's face it, you know he did).

"Okay," you said.

"Okay..."

"...Did you like it?" You asked after feeling a little uneasy with the silence.

"Hell yeah," he responded without hesitation making you giggle.

"Really?" You tittered, "I feel like it gets old."

This was his golden opportunity. At the very least he could pass what he was about to say off as a joke.

"I could always help with that," he chuckled.

You were clearly taken aback by his statement but still smiling. "I'm don't like sharing my money, Joel," you scoffed.

"So don't pay me," he said just as he leaned in a little closer. "Just fuck me."

You couldn't fight the blush that rose to your cheeks and he cockily took notice of it.

"Are you fucking with me?" You bashfully asked.

This made him lean in closer, close enough for you to smell him, close enough to feel his breath cascading over your collarbones, close enough to know that the dark look in his eyes wasn't mischief. It was desire.

His hands cupped your jaw so that he could bring your nose to his. You felt beautifully trapped between his hands, gaze, and aura. Suddenly you were filled with the desire to let him take you in any way he wanted to imagine.

"You know what my favorite video is?" He whispered, breath hitting your lips. "You were on your side, getting ready to cum, and you kept saying I belong to you until you were screaming. Damn near crying. Your little fucktoy was soaked. You had cum everywhere. But the best part was when you did start to cum. You couldn't even look away from yourself, you looked too damn good and you fucking knew it."

"I'd look even better with you inside of me," you told him.

He sharply inhaled before placing his needy lips onto yours, pressing his face in as much as he could.

You moaned into his open mouth, reaching for his tongue with your own. His hands roamed down your body until they reached your hips; showing off his strength, he lifted you into his lap and stood up not wanting to waste another second.

He tried to be careful on the stairs but his eagarity caused him to misstep and almost drop you; he left no room for embarrassment and quickly returned to running up with you giggling at the mishap.

Joel placed you on the bed standing with his jean-covered erection eye level with you. "Where's your camera?"

"Really wanna record it, hmm?" You said softly, running your hand along his hard length and motioning your head to the dresser behind him.

He grabbed it, muttering, "Wanna show everyone you're mine now," whilst turning the camera on.

You cocked an eyebrow up as if to say oh really. "Is that so? I'm all yours now?"

Smiling, he pointed the now recording camera at you. He cupped your chin and dragged a finger over the bright smile you wore. "You're all mine now, darlin'."

You giggled coyly then kissed his clad erection slowly with eyes that remained on the lens.

"Quit teasin'," he demanded with a playful lilt.

You hummed and fake pouted, pulling your face away to toggle his jeans. "There are nicer ways to ask," you teased.

"I'm not askin'."

"Oh? My apologies, daddy."

Your hand began pumping his thick cock when you said that, making his cock jerk hard within your tight grip.

"Daddy, huh?" He entertained; you seductively nodded. "S'pretty right here..."

"Where I belong," you hummed.

Then, you lined your tongue up with the base of his cock, just barely teasing his balls, and licked a stripe up his girthy shaft before twirling your tongue around his red hot tip. You carefully watched as his face contorted, ensuring it was with pleasure and looking for any sensitive spots he may have.

He seemed to favor your tongue on his cockhead so that's what you prioritized for a minute. You tongue kissed it as if it were his mouth. Licking and sucking and pulling it into your mouth feverishly.

His cock tasted manly and the length was just as impressive as him. You finally pulled more of him into your mouth allowing him the privilege of feeling your gummy cheeks swell and close around his dick.

A strained groan left his throat and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.

Joel was enamoured to say the least. Your wide eyes locked with his letting him know you loved sucking his cock as much as he did. Spit hung from your chin prompting him to reangle the camera to get the side view of everything.

He placed a hand on the back of your head and gently fucked your throat. You moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in for more pain, more suffocation.

Your throat gagged over and over again, imitating the feeling of your swallowing his dick. You loved how he shamelessly moaned, filling your ears with the sexy sounds of his calloused whimpers and content praises.

"Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock like that," he groaned. "You like the taste, don't you? Such a good little slut." He smacked your jaw as encouragement to keep doing whatever magic you were fucking performing.

Once your throat began to get sore you pulled your mouth off of him, still opting to use your hands as he laid you down and rested on top of you, giving you the sloppiest kiss you'd ever received and assisting you with undressing.

He tasted his cock on your lips and chin and slurped up whatever precum and spit you had leftover. It felt nasty and passionate, with subtle moans spilling from both of you, and Joel couldn't get enough of it.

"Sit on my face," he breathed.

"Sit on your face?"

"Mmhm."

You set the camera up on the dresser looking at the screen to ensure it would capture everything before complying with his wish. He let out a muffled moan as soon as your wet pussy came in contact with his wet mouth.

On the camera, everything could be seen: your cunt glistened effortlessly and his tongue lapped up whatever your body poured for him. His scruff tickling your freshly shaved skin made you giggle and moan, little noises everywhere that sung like a melody in his ears.

Your clit tingled with a pressure that encouraged you to started riding his face. In response Joel's calloused hands came up to grip your ass and assisted your movements.

He squeezed one cheek almost too hard before spanking it a few times, your flesh easily bruising red and stinging deliciously.

"Joel, your mouth... Perfect," you blabbered. You were filled with bliss: your eyes were closed, fingers twirling playfully in his messy hair.

God, he licked you so fucking good. So messy but that's what made it effortlessly perfect.

"I—oh my God. Fuck! I love your fucking mouth," you moaned loudly.

"Mhm?"

You shuddered at the vibrations, hips stuttering into his licks and sucks even deeper.

"Yes, Joel!" You cried, "Fuck you're gonna make me cum... You're gonna make me cum!"

He spanked your ass even more at this, making both cheeks turn a bashful color and jiggle against his jawline.

With trembling thighs you managed all of your strength to hump him harder and faster. Doing whatever you fucking could to reach your climax.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" You happily cheered as your juices began to relentlessly pour out of your squelching cunt and down his chin.

A satisfied smile rose to your face as your clit throbbed through the orgasm Joel had just given you. You slowed down on your own time allowing him to savor every last drop he'd be tasting for now.

You carefully removed your weight from his face, feeling more out of breath than ever. Meanwhile Joel sat up and swiped up some of your come with his thumb just before forcing it into your mouth and using his other hand to pinch out some that managed to get inside of his nose.

You were a tad embarrassed by his action but his subtle grin let you know that there was nothing more sexy than getting you so wet that it literally almost suffocated him.

Your mouth latched into him, cherishing the scruff surrounding his face. He went to lay on top of you again, your head now hanging off of the foot of the bed; he held your legs to your chest and slid into you easily making you whine at the slight burn that came with being stretched out.

With furrowed brows and an agape mouth, he incandescently moaned into the thick air while his thick thumb found your sensitive clit. You flinched and exhaled harmoniously at the combination of pleasure, enriched in the ecstasy he gave.

"You're so fuckin' tight, babydoll. Agh—almost can't take it," he taunted. "M'gonna have to ruin ya."

He gently released the grip of your legs and put his weight onto you. His arms slithered beneath you, wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe. Then he kissed you, much more softly than before and rolled his hips back and forth. Your slick walls gripped him, trying to suck him in deeper.

His lips pulled off of you with a pop and he licked a thick line from your clavicle to behind your ear as if he magically knew it was your sweet spot.

You giggled and shivered at the ticklish feeling, enduring it until it started to feel more sensual. He felt you relax within his touch and took it as opportunity to nibble the spot, biting it just enough to hurt a little bit.

Between his movements and your sweaty bodies sticking together you felt almost useless; you were used to doing the work, giving instead of taking. But it felt too good to stop now.

When you clawed at his back he pushed himself up and started slamming into you. You gasped, digging your nails into his arms.

"Love those pretty little sounds you're makin' f'me," he hummed, pushing his hand into your exposed neck and gripping it. "You like that? Hm? Ohh, you fucking love it. Look at you."

You raised a hand and smacked his cheek lightly—your way of saying fuck you considering his grasp of you. He reciprocated, landing a firm smack to your face and earning a smile in return.

"Fuckin' brat needs to be put in her place—"

You shook your head attempting to hum out a no.

The hand he had around your neck reached up to squish your cheeks so that he could come eye to eye with you. "God, fuck. I can't even punish you when you look at me with those pretty eyes," he said defeatedly. "Look at you, babydoll. You're so fuckin' tight. Best fuckin' pussy ever. So wet, just f'me."

"All yours, Joel. I'm all yours."

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You're all mine?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum on my cock," he pleaded, "get it nice and wet for me darlin', need you to cum for me."

Between his scruff voice and brutal thrusts you found yourself falling into another orgasm, everything around you ceased to exist.

The world went quiet aside from Joel's encouragements and praises; you could feel the blood pumping throughout your body, your heart punching against your chest, and your body molding to the twists and curves of Joel's body.

As you squeezed and scratched and begged him for more more more you felt the tension between your legs dissolve passionately into a sear so strong you felt it warm and burning the flesh along your belly.

Joel watched your chest rise and fall with your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He rode you out until the very end of your high before picking you up and sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling him.

Feeling even more horny and turned on than before you wasted no time and began bouncing on his painfully hard dick.

He was fighting his climax, needing to feel you wrapped around him as long as he could take.

"You feel so fucking good, daddy," you whined, "want your cum."

"You want me to cum inside you babydoll?" He pouted.

"Yes Joel. Want you to fill me up..."

"Gonna ruin that pretty pussy," he grunted, "gonna make you mine. This pussy belongs to me now, doesn't it?"

He listened to you whimper and weep and whine, coaxing you through it all while offering a few pops to your ass and thighs for encouragement.

You watched him lay down, arms folded behind his head to enjoy the little show you were putting on for him. Hair bouncing and flaying everywhere while you rode him with a bobbling head—the view from where he was looked pretty fucking perfect.

Your movements halted and you managed to turn around on his cock while keeping it inside; hearing a strained gurgly moan come from him as a result, you mercilessly began riding him again giving him the best view of your ass as it clapped against the peak of his belly.

"Good fuckin' slut," he slapped your tatted thigh and watched intently for a moment or two. "Good girl, mhmm. Doin' such a perfect job on daddy's cock."

Joel then sat up and reached for your clit, rubbing the sweetest little circles on it and using his free hand to turn your face to kiss him.

Reverse cowgirl had always been his favorite position, but he can't remember a time or even a moment where it felt this fucking good.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he whispered with his forehead leaning against yours. "Gonna make me fuckin' cum. Tha' what you want, baby? Want your daddy to fill this fuckin' pussy up?"

He gave your clit a mean smack but it only made you go faster.

"Need you to cum! Fucking—ohh! Cum for me, please daddy. Want you to f-fill me up!"

Joel began thrusting to meet you halfway, and his eyes stayed locked with yours as he muttered a string of profanities.

"Oh shit. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Fuck yes!"

He painted your pussy with his hot, sticky ropes of cum, moaning your name over and over with fluttering eyes and a tight grip on your hips. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and meeting you with a few more soft kisses as a thank you.

You felt his cum slowly pouring out of your swollen cunt, trailing down his softening cock and on the sheets. You two stayed like that for a while, savoring the moment and taking your time.

A while later while he was cleaning up between your legs he said, "You better upload that video."

"You weren't joking?" You scoffed, wearing a smile.

"I wasn't joking," he said contently.

That night once he had fallen asleep in your bed, you decided to upload the full video uncut with the perfect title...

My DILF Neighbor Comes Over For A Creampie ♡

346K Views | 93% | 16 Hours Ago | ♡ 532

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[rafecameronssl4t]

can you do thirnton!reader x rafe where they are sneaking around and topper finds out?

I fw him on the low || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

moodboard

“Nobody know, I fuck with him on the low. We never show up together, but I text him when I’m ready to go.”

“I’ll see you later,” you giggled, reaching for your door as the booming trap music filled the air downstairs. Just as you closed the door, a familiar voice called out your name, making you jump a little.

“You good?” Topper chuckled, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and amusement as you awkwardly cleared your throat, brushing your hair out of your face and leaning against the door.

“Yeah, all good!” you replied quickly, giving him a thumbs-up with a self-conscious smile, mentally cringing at your own awkwardness. “Did you need something?” you asked, hoping Rafe wouldn’t appear at that exact moment.

“Yeah, have you seen Rafe around? I need to talk to him,” Topper queried casually, his tone suggesting he was just checking. “Nope, haven’t seen Rafe. At all.” You said with a slight shrug, pursing your lips as Topper let out a resigned breath.

“It’s fine, probably off doing his usual Rafe stuff, you know, like fuckin’ around with some girl,” Topper shrugged, turning away. Despite trying to stay serious, you couldn’t help but snort softly at his bluntness.

~

A smile spread across your lips as you opened your eyes to see Rafe towering over your bikini-clad body, his large frame blocking out the sun. “Hi,” you giggled shyly, feeling a flutter in your chest as he smirked down at you. Leaning in, he pressed a quick peck on your lips.

“What was that? C’mon, gimme a proper kiss,” you pouted playfully, your hand reaching up to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He chuckled softly, muttering a “yes, ma’am” against your lips before leaning in for a deeper, more lingering kiss. His hands began to roam over your body, sending shivers down your spine as you let out a low groan of pleasure.

“Fuckin’ knew it! You guys aren’t slick!” The sudden sound of your brother’s voice made you jump as Rafe pulled away quickly. You both looked up to see your brother standing on the balcony, his phone to his ear and a triumphant look on his face.

Topper leaned over the railing, shaking his head slightly as he watched the two of you. “Sorry, Top. Couldn’t help myself,” Rafe casually shrugged, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure you didn’t,” Topper called back down, rolling his eyes before turning around and heading back inside.

[starkeyisthelastname]

How would reader react when pornstar!rafe comes over to her place after filming a scene with someone else ?

just know pornstar!rafe is a pussy destroyer 😰

It was the text you got, reading ‘Can’t, I’m busy.’ Followed by, ‘Filming a scene today.’ That left you feeling some type of way and you weren’t sure why. Okay, maybe you knew exactly why and that was the more dick he gave you, the more you wanted him. You were both pornstars though, and his job was to fuck women on camera and get paid for it. You couldn’t be jealous. It was inevitable that he would have to film.

As the day went on, you couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. Some other female pornstar was getting her guts fucked out by him right now, and you weren’t the one getting to experience it. This man had a chokehold on you and you were becoming addicted to the way he made you feel. He was raw, confident, dirty, and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else said or thought.

You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep as you were startled out of a dream by a pounding on your door. You rubbed your eyes, making your way down the hall and towards the front. You should have looked through the peephole, hell it could have been someone trying to break in, but you opened it anyway against your better judgement. It was Rafe’s massive self storming in that had you fully waking up to realize what was going on.

“Can’t answer a fuckin phone?” He asked, blue eyes peering at you almost predatory as he stalked closer.

“I fell asleep, and why do you even care? You were busy.” You said, evident jealousy dripping from your tongue. You crossed your arms, a challenging sparkle in your pretty eyes as he stared at you for moment. He chuckled, his intimidating height towering over you as he stepped closer.

“Why are you acting jealous for, huh? Gettin too damn attached to this dick, aren’t ya?” He spoke low, large hand coming up to grab your throat. His mustache tickled your lips as he leaned down to look in your eyes. “I like money too much to stop fuckin, pretty girl. You remember what, I said though?” He asked, squeezing your neck harder.

Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back as you were a freak off pain. He pulled away from your face, his lips ghosting over toward your ear as he began to speak. “You are my own personal whore now, yeah? So when I call, you answer the fuckin phone the first time.” He spat harshly in your ear.

You weren’t sure what this weird fucked up situation was that you two were in, but you knew you loved every second of it. He was fucking your life all the way up, his hands digging into your scalp to use your hair as reins as he brutally pounded into your sopping hole.

“Take that shit up your fuckin cunt.” Rafe grunted, toned hips moving at a rapid pace as his thick cock stretched your poor hole out. Your legs were bent back, knees touching your chest as he railed you into oblivion on your own couch.

You were crying from the sheer roughness and pleasure that he was giving to you. A babbling mess, as you fell victim to his nasty ways once again. You were getting too attached to his dick, but what did he expect when he fucked you the way he did. You were soaking his cock, his fat length sliding in and out your messy cunt as he drilled into you.

His body leaned down, his hand yanking your head back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. “This is my fuckin pussy to ruin. You understand that?” He asked, his stache tickling your lips as he tightened the grip on your hair. “You better fuckin answer me when I’m talking to you.”

You let out a gasp, wincing at the burn to your scalp as you were forced to look into darkened blue irises and answer him. “Yes Rafe… a-all yours!” You cried out, earning a vicious laugh from him as he straightened his massive stance back out. He was just as addicted to you and knew you were about to fuck his life all the way up. Just in a completely different kinda way he hadn’t experienced before.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[fuckmymunson]

Confidential. — Eddie Munson.

☆ 18+, smut, lowkey hate sex, fingering. | word count: 1.2k

☆ my montly post ;) or maybe I'll find more inspo soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Can you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?”

“For what? So you can keep talking shit behind my back?” He asks back, crossing his arms. Leaning against the dirty bathroom wall, Eddie stares at you with a cocky smirk. He isn’t usually this confident, not around you at least. 

“I don’t want the whole school to think I’m your fucking groupie, dude. Just leave me alone,” You bite back. You wish you could erase that smirk on his face. The anger is bubbling up your throat, burning your insides. “Just because I’m the only one who lets you get your dick wet, it doesn’t mean you can go around bragging about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bragging about it?” Eddie laughs, he has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t you think it would be a juicy conversation topic? You, little miss perfect, fucking the freak?”

“Shut the fuck up. Seriously— or I promise you I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth, sweetheart?” He mocks you again, again. Eddie is really testing your patience. Lowering his arms, he steps closer, his heavy boots tapping on the greasy linoleum. “I think we both know you look better with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock rather than talking shit.”

“Fuck you. Literally. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Done with this conversation that will surely lead to nothing, you grab the doorknob. “You talk a lot of shit when we are alone, but you are such a pussy when people bully you. Just say you don’t have the balls to man up.”

“Man up?” Eddie takes another step. He is willing to chase you if you dare to open that door. “Oh, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am. The man who can actually make you come, not like those preppy fuckers that share you.”

Your head whips at his words. He couldn’t have possibly said that. Perhaps you are having a stroke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, cutie. The same whores you talk shit with, talk shit about you too— behind your back, I might add,” His hand takes yours, gently removing it from the doorknob. Eddie bites back a laugh when he sees your expression, how could you be so oblivious? “Haven’t you noticed? Or are you that stupid?”

Shaking your head, you push him— or try to, at least— the action surprises him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Eddie quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. He knows what you need, wherever and whenever, he knows what you want. Your hatred has no fundament, you are just a dumb sheep that follows the horde, but he can’t blame you; there’s the need to fit… and there’s the need you can’t escape from no matter what.

“Come on, you know you don’t want to break our little deal,” He whispers.

“Let go of me,” You choke. “You are lying. They are my friends—”

“You know what they say, sometimes your enemies live in your own home,” Nobody says that, Eddie is just making it up to play with your newfound insecurity. “Perhaps you are a freak, just like me.”

Smashing his lips against yours, your hands grope his shoulders. The logical thing would be to push him, to yell and run, but you can’t. Whatever he has, is drowning you. Eddie can make you see stars, and the problem is that he is the only one. A thing that happened by a stupid mistake occasioned by the stupid join you agreed is now escalating and threatening to ruin your reputation— he knows that. You know that. Outside he is no one, but when you two are alone, he makes you feel like you are no one. 

“You talk so damn much,” Your words are weak when his lips reach your neck, when his hands slide underneath your skirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pretty girl.”

Lifting one leg to wrap it around his hip, you bite your lower lip when his thumb traces the outline of your folds, rubbing the fabric of your panties against you. Keeping you steady with his free hand on your waist, Eddie bites down on your neck, relishing on the sweet cry that escapes your lips. He is so close he can smell your perfume, of course is the one he has been seeing advertised on TV. You fight so much to be perfect that it breaks you how pathetic your yearning is. He quickly finds your clit— now this is true, you know what they say… practice makes perfect— circling it slowly.

“You want to keep it so low, yet the only thing you keep low is your voice when I fuck you in your bedroom,” He taunts you. He hits you in your weakest spots. “Just accept it, I’m your escape— I don’t mind. As long as you are honest.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, buckling your hips when he pushes your underwear to the side. It is an endless battle, not only with him, but with yourself.

With a sigh, Eddie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing softly. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Sliding a finger, his cold rings make you gasp. He never takes them off, not even when he fucks you. Eddie says it makes him look cool, you say it makes him look idiotic— and you maintain that thought, even when he is adding a second finger and curling it, rubbing your tight walls slowly. Moaning louder, you clasp a hand over your mouth, if someone finds you, God, you’d be ruined; he, on the other hand, has other plans. Thrusting his digits slowly, Eddie groans lowly every time he feels you tightening. The moans you fight so hard to swallow are a confidence boost, and right now? He wants to hear them all.

“Take that hand off your mouth or I swear I will leave you here,” His threat makes you shudder. What games is he playing? “I’m being serious.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The smile that appears on his cheeky face shouldn’t be as pretty as it is. Now you are sure he is toying with you— yet you can’t be mad about it. Not when he is speeding up, not when he is nibbling on your neck, not when you can feel his erection grinding against your thigh. Being finger–fucked by the town’s freak is already embarrassing enough, so naturally, orgasming so quickly would be even more embarrassing.

“Why do you fight it?” Removing his fingers, Eddie clicks his tongue when you protest. “I could fuck you every day if you weren’t such a bitch,” Yanking your underwear down, he pushes you harder against the wall, spitting on his fingers and returning them to his favorite place. Your pussy greets them back greedily, squeezing his digits and wetting them until you are not sure if it’s dripping down his wrist. “At least I know one part of you actually likes me.”

“Shut up— Shut up,” you repeat over and over, keeping your eyes shut. Your moans flow freely now, urging him to continue. Eddie loves how pliant he can get you, how just a little pleasure gets you this dumb. “Fuck— don’t stop, please.” There it is, what he has been dying to hear.

“I wouldn't dream of, princess.”

[moonstruckme]

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse. 

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?” 

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.” 

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?” 

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.” 

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?” 

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.” 

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.” 

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.” 

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.” 

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.” 

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.” 

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.” 

“You were angry last night. Not me.” 

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.” 

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late. 

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you. 

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed. 

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?” 

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails. 

“I just want a chance to apologize.” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.” 

“Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.” 

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.” 

“I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“Sure you do.” 

“Why do you want to fight so bad?” 

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.” 

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?” 

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.” 

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.” 

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.” 

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” 

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle. 

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?” 

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.” 

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.” 

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer. 

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

[kingdomvel]

Steddie | 2.2k | first meetings | ao3

“What did you say the name of the band is again?” Steve asks. He has to raise his voice above the sound of the music playing before the concert and the hundreds of conversations around him.

“Corroded Coffin” Dustin says, probably for the hundredth time, or that’s what his tone suggests.

“It’s written on the drums.” Mike adds with his constant bitchy petulant tone.

Steve turns around and fair enough, the name is written there in the drums. They are also right there as they had queued for hours to be at the front (they are not in the centre but there’s no one standing in front of them), and apparently the band and place are small enough that there is no security line in front of the stage. Steve has been leaning against it with a drink in his hand while they wait for the concert to start. And that’s his excuse. He was leaning against the stage, so the drums were to his back, he couldn’t have read them.

“C’mon Steve, even I learned the name of the band in the eternity we have been here” Robin says which, rude, but she had agreed to come keep him company at a metal concert without asking for anything in return, so he will let it pass.

The kids (not quite kids anymore, but close enough) had needed an adult to get into the 18+ venue the concert was held at, and of course that adult had to be Steve because “we are not going to bring one of our parents into a metal concert Steve” and “Nancy and Jonathan are not even in the state and you said you were fun, didn’t you?” and he is fun, so he had to agree. And drag Robin with him, of course.

“Well I would remember the name if it wasn’t a stupid name” he says, a bit too loud if the looks he receives from some of the people around them are anything to go by.

“If you are so annoyed why don’t you go hang out at the bar and leave us alone?” Dustin asks.

“If I’m at a concert I’m getting the full experience, I’ve not queued for hours to stay at the bar. And I have to make sure you don’t get squished to death or accept drinks from strangers.”

“We are sixteen, you already drank when you were sixteen.”

“But I didn’t have a wristband telling everyone I was a minor.” He emphasizes this by hooking his forefinger on said wristband around Dustin’s wrist. The boy takes his hand away with a huff, but whatever he was going to say gets interrupted by a loud cheer as the lights of the venue dim. All eyes turn to the stage, and Steve forgets everything about the little shits around him.

They play the first two songs without interruption, back to back, and they are much better than Steve had expected them to be when the kids had pitched the idea of going to a concert of ‘a super cool band’ they had found on tiktok of all places. Steve is very quick to understand their raising popularity on social media the moment his eyes land on the frontman. He is not even wearing anything scandalous, just black jeans, some graphic tee and a leather jacket, but fuck if he isn’t attractive. His big eyes, teasing smile and wild hair are very much deserving of the screams they awake in the audience.

When the second song finishes, they don’t start a new one, the frontman takes the microphone from the stand.

“Are you ready for the best night of your life?” he shouts, and the audience answers with shouts of their own. Steve finds himself whooping, and answers with a smile and a shrug to Robin’s amused silent question as both of them clap. “We are Corroded Coffin,” more yelling, and the frontman stars walking around with a smile on his lips while he looks at the ground, clearly enjoying the attention. “And these aaaaaare…” he prolongs the last word, building a dramatic effect. “Gareth!” he shouts, pointing to the back dramatically. There are yells, the boy at the drums doing a short solo before he stands up to wave at the audience. “Jeff!” more yells, a guitar solo. “Our favourite Freak!” laughs from band and audience alike, more yells, and the boy with the bass trying to hit the frontman with said bass. “And I’m Eddie.”

‘Eddie’ Steve mouths the name.

There are yells as the frontman finishes, a small bashful smile on his lips back on his face after the laughing as he plays with the microphone stand with the hand that is not currently holding the microphone. He looks up at the audience when the yells don’t stop, gives a small dramatic bow and smirks when the yells grow louder once again.

“EDDIE MARRY ME” a voice yells from somewhere in the audience.

“Oh? Without going on a date first?” Eddie asks, he has his gaze set somewhere on the audience, and Steve is a bit impressed at how easily he has spot the person in the sea of bodies.

“I’M FREE WHENEVER.” The same voice yells again, it makes Eddie laugh.

“I’m honoured, my fair lady, but I’ll have to decline. I’m looking for my knight in shining armour myself.” There are ooohs from the audience but Steve’s gut makes a traitorous interested twist. “And speaking of knights,” he says, putting his hands back on his guitar, “I think you may know this one.” One note, and the audience is going crazy. Dustin is jumping up and down while he holds onto Steve’s arm, and Steve can’t help but laugh at him.

It's when that third song is finishing that it happens. The guitarist is starting a solo, and Eddie looks down to the base of the microphone stand, pulls a confused face, and then looks around. He must not see whatever he was looking for because he has a confused furrow in his brow when he does a second sweep around the stage and beyond, and he catches Steve's eyes. He maintains the eye contact for a second, two, five, and then looks down to Steve’s hands and back up again. There is a smirk in his face Steve is not entirely sure he likes the implications of as he walks towards him while he keeps playing.

Steve can hear Dustin screaming “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” right next to his ear as Eddie comes closer until he is standing right in front of them.

The musician is still looking at Steve as he leans forward and asks “give me a sip?” as he looks down at Steve’s hands for a second. (Or at least that’s what Steve guesses he says, the noise too loud for him to really hear him without his mic.)

Steve lifts his drink, and the frontman leans forward and down with a smile. He opens his mouth and Steve pours his drink in it. When he finishes, he winks at Steve before he walks away in time to start singing again. The kids around him are screaming, Robin is surely going to make him partially deaf and is shaking him so hard he almost drops the rest of his drink. It takes until the next song starts for the bunch to calm down a bit and focus on the show again.

The thing is, that is not the last time it happens. Eddie comes back to steal sips from his drink every few verses, and when Steve’s drink is finished and he goes to get a beer, he is miraculously let back to the front by the audience. Eddie, of course, also wants to have his share of the beer. So they share it.

It is, if Steve is honest, the weirdest experience he has ever had in a concert. But he is having too much fun and would not change it for anything. A hot singer and guitarist coming to him every few minutes and bending down so Steve can pour drink into his mouth? The best thing that has happened to him all month. It only gets better when Eddie ditches his leather jacket – Steve was starting to wonder when that was going to happen because it’s much too hot in the venue for it and he is sure that a big reason Eddie needs to drink so much is because he is sweating it all and dehydrating – and reveals that the tee he was wearing underneath has the sleeves cut off very freely. Steve can see most of the man’s torso and that is a SIGHT. There are tattoos on his arms and ribcage that Steve immediately wants to see complete, and his waist is slim where the shirt is tucked into the jeans. It makes Steve bite his lip in want.

He is about to pour the last of their third beer in Eddie’s mouth when a small hand stops him. He looks to the side with confusion, sure that none of the kids or Robin would stop him at this point and is met with the smile of a small blonde girl.

“Give him this please” she says, handing him a bottle of an electrolyte drink. Steve looks back at Eddie just in time to see him groaning. “No more beer.” She adds, pointing to Eddie as if he was a misbehaving dog, he is surely giving the look, with his big brown eyes and sad look. She turns back to Steve, “and sorry about that, any new drinks you get are on us.”

She is gone with that. Steve looks at Eddie, at the new drink in his hand. Eddie shrugs, defeated, and leans forward. Steve quickly empties the rest of the beer in his mouth before he opens the new bottle and starts pouring from it. Eddie doesn’t drink much, too busy trying not to choke on the beer and his laughter.

Eddie ditches his guitar towards the end of the concert for a ‘calmer’ song. He walks around the stage as he sings to a boy involved in him that tries to deny the depth of their relationship and tries to date girls, and how in the future he is going to regret not staying with him. He has great stage presence, he has been flirting with the audience between songs, dramatic and charismatic, a bit over the top. Maybe the fastest crush Steve has ever developed, happy to enjoy his part in the show, even when he knows it’s not going to lead anywhere.

Steve feels his heart accelerating as Eddie walks towards him, which is ridiculous, they have been doing this all night. But this time Eddie shakes his head when Steve gets the drink ready, and he can only look as he kneels on the edge of he stage right in front of him as he sings the bridge. They are holding eye contact now, and it’s the closest they have been. Eddie’s eyes are captivating, Steve can only stop looking at them to glance down at his lips. It seems he was caught, because the next second Eddie is speaking.

“Are we about to kiss right now?” he asks, and Steve looks back up to his eyes. He lifts his eyebrows, trying to convey ‘bring it on’ as best as he can as he licks his lips, Eddie’s eyes glancing at them. It must work, because the next second Eddie is leaning forward, and now Steve’s hand is on his nape, and their lips are pressing against each other.

It’s probably the filthiest kiss Steve has participated on. At least with an audience. It’s not long, Eddie has to keep singing after all, but they make up for it in tongue action. The audience goes crazy around them, but Steve doesn’t pay attention to them at all, only focused on Eddie. He at least must be paying some attention to their surroundings because he pulls off in time to keep singing and stands up to move around the stage.

There are a couple of songs more, and then Eddie is introducing the band again before he starts listing all the members of the staff that have made the concert possible.

“We also wouldn’t have made it here without our precious manager Chrissy,” he adds, “even when she worries too much sometimes. Three beers are not enough to get me drunk, especially not shared ones. And that reminds me! I can’t forget to thank my knight in shining armour, my perfect drink partner…” he trails off.

“STEVE!” Robin shouts next to him.

“Steve” Eddie repeats with a smile. “Thank you for the drinks. Don’t go running off now too fast now, alright? Stay for a bit after the concert, I owe you a couple of beers.” He finishes with a wink.

The kids and Robin are screaming again, and Steve is sure he is going to have bruises tomorrow from their grabbing, but he doesn’t stray his gaze from Eddie. At least not until the last song finishes, the lights from the stage turn off, and the rest of the lights of the venue turn on. Then, and only then, Steve turns towards the others.

“How did you say you were going to get back home again?”

Part two

Now with art

[creamflix]

toji fushiguro x female reader; 18+ content (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS do not interact or follow, you'll be blocked), unestablished relationship, age gap (toji's in his 40's and reader's in her 20's), unprotected sex, backshots <3, multiple creampie(s) but no breeding kink, dirty talk, premature ejaculation LMAO, toji's out of touch w/ sex but a freak nonetheless, pussy drunk toji <3, mindbreak lowkey, overstiumlation, #needthat – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

toji knows exactly what he's doing when he catches you looking. all those little glances you throw his way, the way you can’t seem to stop staring at his body — he fucking loves it. he’s smug, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place, shooting you a smirk that says it all. you’ve been practically drooling over him, and it’s not like he hasn’t noticed. 

he knows he’s hot.

"been staring at me all night, pretty girl," he teases, voice low as he stands behind you, hands casually resting on your waist, tugging you back just enough to feel the heat from his body.

the way his lips graze your ear, the deep rasp in his voice, has you weak in the knees before he’s even touched you properly. you nod, biting your lip, unable to speak with how turned on you are just from his presence alone. he chuckles darkly, feeling your breath hitch when he presses himself closer, and god, you can feel how big he is even through his pants.

"so needy already. you just couldn’t wait, could you?" his fingers trail down your body, slow, deliberate, slipping beneath your waistband, and the groan he lets out when he feels how wet you are? sinful.

"fuck, look at you. so wet just from watching me. didn’t even have to touch you, huh?"

dirty words spill from his lips like it’s second nature as you’re a mess beneath him, squirming as he finally pulls your panties down. he positions himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. "gonna take it like a pretty lil thing, yea?" he murmurs, voice laced with that same arrogance that has you absolutely wrecked.

but the second he pushes inside, toji’s whole world comes crashing down. his bravado falters as your walls clench around him, so tight and warm that the first thing out of his mouth isn’t a growl or a cocky remark—it’s a fucking whimper.

"shit," he groans, voice shaky as his hands grip your hips tighter. "fuck... gonna cum already..." his head falls back, muscles tensing as he tries to hold back. it’s been too long, and he can barely keep it together, every thrust pushing him closer to the edge. but even as he’s losing control, there’s no way he’s stopping now.

"too good, fuck... too good," he’s babbling, thrusts fast and desperate, his mind blanking out with each movement. the thought of embarrassing himself crosses his mind for a second, but he’s too far gone. he’s gripping you harder, slamming into you with everything he’s got, chasing that high even as he feels his cock twitching, ready to cum inside you.

toji’s hands tighten their grip on your hips as he thrusts into you harder, like a man with something to prove. his head is spinning, every inch of him on fire as he fights to regain control. but fuck, it’s impossible when you feel this good, your pussy squeezing him like you were made for him. his cock is throbbing, twitching inside you, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

"shit... gonna fucking cum," he grunts through gritted teeth, his voice so wrecked, a low whimper slipping out despite himself. he can’t hold it back any longer, and with one more deep thrust, he’s cumming inside you, hot and fast. his body trembles as he cums, fingers digging into your skin, and all he can think about is how fucking tight you feel wrapped around him. his hips stutter, but instead of slowing down, he keeps going, desperate to chase every ounce of pleasure coursing through him.

"f-fuck... this pussy... i’m losing it, baby..." toji gasps, breathless, his voice cracking as he tries to hold himself together. but you’re making it so damn hard. every time he moves, every time he feels you squeeze around him, his mind blanks out completely. he should be embarrassed at how quickly he came, but all he can think about is how you’re the one doing this to him. you’ve got him fucked up, and there’s no way he’s stopping now, not when he’s still buried deep inside you, not when he’s still so fucking hard.

"shit, you’re gonna milk me dry..." he growls, voice thick with lust as he starts pounding into you again, faster this time, his cock still sensitive, but he doesn’t care. he’s too far gone, his only focus on making sure you don’t waste a single drop. every thrust is rougher, more desperate, and he can feel your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

"can’t let ya go with any of it dripping out," he pants, one hand slipping down to rub your clit, desperate to keep you just as wrecked as he is. "gonna fuck you ‘til you take every drop... every last fuckin’ drop, ya hear me?"

he’s losing it, hips snapping against you like he’s trying to fuck his way back to sanity. you can hear how wrecked he is, the way his breath hitches with every thrust, the way his voice gets rougher, like he’s on the verge of losing control again. and fuck, when he feels you start to tighten around him, he knows he’s close again too.

"gonna cum again," he groans, voice strained, as his fingers press harder against your clit, desperate to get you off with him. "gonna make you cum with me, baby. fuck, don’t stop... squeeze me just like that..."

you can feel his pace getting erratic, every thrust more frantic, more needy, as he chases that high again. and when he feels you clench tight around him, body trembling as you cum, it pushes him right over the edge. his hips slam into you one last time, his cock twitching as he cums hard, filling you up again, even more intense than the first time.

he lets out a low, broken moan, body shuddering as he rides out the pleasure, still thrusting shallowly into you, not wanting it to end. "fuck, fuck, fuck..." he babbles, voice cracking, as he slows his movements, hips still rocking against you even as his orgasm finally starts to fade.

and when he’s finally done, when he’s spent and breathless, he pulls out slowly, watching as his cum drips out of you, the sight making his cock twitch all over again. his fingers trail down your thighs, collecting some of the mess, before pushing it back inside you with a low chuckle.

"not wasting a fucking drop, sweetheart," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his voice soft, but still laced with that same smugness. "you’re too good to let any of it go to waste."

#needthat

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[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Werewolf // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Werewolf!Geto x Fem!Reader, Alpha!Geto x Omega!Reader, A/B/O mechanics, marking, scenting, nesting, fated mates, description of violence including murder, NSFW, MDNI

Synopsis: Suguru knew you were his before you even presented as an omega, but the pack elders did not take too kindly to him marking you at such a young age. He kills anyone who gets in his way to you.

An: If you don’t like a/b/o or omegaverse, skip this one :3. If you’re a freak like me, enjoy! Also, this was my first time making my own banner in Canva.. what are we thinking?? I am also so sorry that this one is so late.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.”

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Living in a small pack has its perks. Everyone is protective over one another and will always offer to help no matter what. Pack relations are strongest when the pack is smaller, and the pack is more likely to survive.

There are, of course, some cons as well. Everyone knows your business, and everyone wants a say in how you live your life.

For the longest you can remember, Suguru has been by your side. You two would spend a lot of time down at the creek together as kids. You two practically learned everything together: how to hunt, fish, trap, and forage.

He was your insistent shadow, and the pack elders thought it was adorable when you two were younger. He would without fail abandon the other small children to always go hang out with you. The two of you were like little partners in crime together.

Though their adoration turned to concern when Suguru never quite left your side. In fact, it was getting worse as he grew older. By the time he turned 13, He was abandoning hunting trips early to come home to you. He’d sneak out of his tent to go to yours late at night. Your parents would have to kick him out every morning, chastising both of you.

Though, the straw that broke the camel’s back wasn’t simple sleepovers and abandoned hunting trips. It was when he presented as an alpha. Everyone knew he would with how physically gifted he was as a young teen. He was also too damn protective for his own good, going as far as to breaking another kid’s nose for simply grabbing your wrist.

You were only a few months younger than Suguru, but you hadn’t presented yet. When he presented first, your parents forbade him from sleeping over. They were just trying their best to protect you. You two were “too old” and “not old enough” at the same time to be sleeping together.

Suguru, given that he now had the talk from his parents, knew what your parents were suggesting, but he hated it. He didn’t understand how your parents could think so lowly of him overnight just from presenting.

He lasted three nights. Three whole nights of not snuggling against you, not smelling your hair while you two drifted off to sleep, not hearing your soft snores in the dead of night. It was three sleepless nights.

Suguru always had an inkling that you were his. It was a rather strange feeling of possession, like he shouldn’t have to listen to your parents’ rules because you weren’t theirs. You were his.

His frustration only heightened when the pack started to impose longer hunting trips on him. Shorter hunting trips were reserved for those who hadn’t presented and mated alphas. Since they were mated, they couldn’t be away from their mate for too long; thus, getting the smaller trips.

All these things led him to the conclusion: you’re his mate, and he needed to mark you to prove it.

After a particularly taxing hunting trip, Suguru’s eyes filtered through the camp. Everyone was as painfully jovial as usual: sitting around doing absolutely fuck all. His eyes landed on you, and he could feel the tension melting away from him almost instantaneously. You were in charge of looking after the small children, even though you yourself were still a child.

His feet stomped over toward you without a second thought, and his hand wrapped around your arm tightly, pulling you along behind him.

“Ah- Sugu. Where are we going? I’m working-!” You shout as he continues to drag you along silently. “Sugu- The kids…” You murmur as the two of you head further into the forest.

“They’ll be fine for a few minutes.” He responded calmly before he glanced behind him. The camp was far enough away now. No one would be able to see the two of you unless they were specifically looking for you.

“What are we doing, Sugu?” You asked with a small nervous smile. You had started to have to look up at him these days. It was as if he was growing taller overnight. No longer just a boy.

He also started to stink — well, it wasn’t like a smelly smell, but it was unfamiliar. Your parents had explained pheromones. You didn’t particularly like them since you hadn’t presented yet.

“I need you to sit still, and don’t scream.” He instructed before he dipped his head between your shoulder and jaw. He experimentally sniffed at your neck — completely scentless. The only smell coming from you was your strawberry shampoo that he had grown accustomed to.

“Why would I-“ His large hand covered your mouth before you could get out another word, and he opened his mouth before clamping down on your neck. His K9’s punctured your skin, allowing for blood to trickle down your skin.

A pained cry fled your mouth, but it was muffled by his hand. Suguru felt his heart begin to race. It was happening. You were finally officially his. No one could tell him otherwise — not even your silly parents.

He calmly reassured you that you were okay while you softly wept. Your hand covered the bloody mark on your neck. He was just marking you. You know, like it was no big deal.

After sweetly kissing your tears away, he proudly walked you back to camp once you had calmed down from crying, satisfied with himself. Your hands were laced together like true mates.

The first to immediately notice was Satoru, another alpha who was barely a year older than Suguru. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your marked neck.

“Suguru, what did you do?” He asks like a mother scolding her son. Usually, this was the other way around. Satoru would’ve never expected Suguru to do something as reckless as this.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Satoru. I just marked her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, still so proud of himself.

“You don’t understand. She hasn’t presented. This isn’t good. We need to-“

Your face was flushed a bright red, and Satoru could see your breath becoming more and more labored with each passing second. He frantically looked around, trying to think of what to do. Suguru probably didn’t even know that he just inadvertently forced your body to present. Having been marked, your body was now plummeting itself into a heat.

Suguru could feel you gently tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. When he looked back at you, his eyes widened. He could tell what your body was going through, but he was just a boy. He didn’t know how to handle it.

“What are you three up to? Why aren’t the children being tended to-“ A clan elder asked after seeing the small children running around without you to watch them. His eyes landed on you, and he immediately tensed up at the scene. “What- How… Geto.”

*** *** ***

“He’s just a boy!” Suguru’s mom pleaded with tears in her eyes. Her hands clasped the young boy’s shoulders. “He has a whole life ahead of him! Don’t do this to him.”

“You’re right. He is just a boy, so it was your responsibility to teach him about these things.” A pack elder spoke.

“He’s an alpha. Even if they taught him those things, he would’ve acted on his own volition anyways.” Another spoke.

“Who even allowed him to be around her? He was suppose to be on a hunting trip, no?”

“We got back early. It was my responsibility, but we were carrying back a large buck. My mind was preoccupied. I accept full responsibility for his actions.”

“You can’t take on the full burden of responsibility. Geto is old enough to know right from wrong, and he chose the wrong path. He took that girl in the woods and marked her before she even presented as an omega.” The pack leader spoke.

Suguru stood completely motionless in front of his parents. He stayed looking down at the ground. While they argued over his future in the pack, his mind was stuck on you. They had ripped you away from him the second that the pack elder had realized that your body was in heat. He wondered if you were being taken care of okay. He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you already. He wondered if he’d get to see you again.

“He’s done so much for this pack at such a young age. Please.. Don’t do this to him. He has his whole life ahead of him.” His mother pleaded once again. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What about my daughter’s life?” Your dad finally spoke up after being silent for far too long. “That bastard tainted her. She could’ve presented as anything: alpha, beta, or omega, but no, he forced biology upon her with a godforsaken mark. He should be shunned from the pack.”

“He can’t be allowed to be in the same space as her. He’s already proven that he can’t be trusted. The last thing we need is for a young omega to fall pregnant because an alpha doesn’t know restraint.”

“Don’t you two have family anywhere she can stay with… just until she’s a bit older? The mark might fade after they’ve been separated for a while.” Another pack elder spoke up to your parents.

“You’re seriously removing our daughter instead of the problem child? That’s fucking rich. So, what will happen when he marks another omega far too early, huh?” Your dad argued, clenching his jaw.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Suguru finally spoke up, looking your dad in the eye. A stare off between the two ensued.

“If this is how this pack operates, fine. I don’t want her in here if we protect alphas simply due to their gender instead of the innocent.” Your dad finally grit out before stomping away from the meeting.

It took three full grown alphas and Satoru to hold Suguru back while you were leaving. They wouldn’t even allow him to say goodbye to you, not even when you cried out his name. Not even when you begged, pleaded, asked why.

*** *** ***

Suguru was never quite the same after you and your family left. It had been years. He was just a boy when they took you. Now, he’s a twenty year old brooding alpha. He was aloof towards everyone, and he only confided in Satoru. His friend seemed to he the only one who understood that he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He didn’t know that his mark would cause a great deal of stress on your body, and had he known, he wouldn’t have done it.

The rest of the pack looked at him with reserved disdain. He was a stain upon their community. Your parents were well liked in the pack, and he was the reason they weren’t there anymore.

Words kept getting tossed around, and the pack members who weren’t there for the meeting were terribly misinformed. As the rumors spread, the story became more and more horrid. They painted him out to be a monster who held you down while you begged him not to and bit your neck forcibly.

Suguru never tried to correct the stories. He had nothing to prove to these people, the people that sent you away from him. They could all think of him as a monster, especially if it meant they stayed the hell away from him.

The only thing that kept Geto from expulsion from the pack was his innate ability to hunt. His beast from was truly that of an apex predator. He went on extravagant hunting trips often, and he kept the pack fed on wonderful meats.

He looked for you, his mate, on every hunting trip. He tried to remember the faint smell that started to emit from you when your body went into heat. He looked for every sign of you.

He knew the mate bond was still strong because he could feel everything through it. He hated when you felt sad. He knew you experienced some sort of nightmares without him there to care for you while you slept. Your happiness made him feel bittersweet. He wanted you to be happy, but the thought of you being happy without him made him sick.

Your heats were the worst. Suguru would sulk in his tent in a state of horny depression. He should be taking care of you, tending to your body and every desire you had. He should be helping you nest and kissing every spot on your body while cooing praises to you.

Instead, he’s laying in his own sweat and cum, too much of a sad sack of shit to make himself go get cleaned up. His tent stunk of potent pheromones. Your heats, even while being so far away, managed to throw him into a rut each time.

He could feel your dissatisfaction. You were pining for him to come help you. It was as if you were screaming down the mate bond for him to come save you. He missed you so damn bad that he started to hate the smell of strawberries. They smelled too much of you and reminded him of what he couldn’t have

He knew that the elders still kept in touch with your parents. They were high ranking leaders in the community after all. They knew where you were, and they still opted to keep you away from him.

You and him were suffering because of the fucking elders. They caused all of this. If they would’ve kept their fucking noses out of y’all’s business, none of this would be happening.

“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.” Suguru was practically crying for help. He was sat in his tent, holding his head in shame. His arms and legs were practically trembling.

The homicidal thoughts started when you left. It was sneaky at first, but they only got worse over time. His friend was the only one who knew about them. He knew how badly Geto craved to end their lives.

“Let me talk to them. They might listen to me.” Satoru spoke calmly as he gazed as his heartbroken best friend. The tent was heavy with the scent of alpha rut and distress. He could tell Suguru was really going through it right now.

*** *** ***

Suguru’s beast form was nothing short of a monster. He was the strongest, right next to Satoru.

His black fur was matted with blood as he pawed at the remains of the pack leader. Satoru had tried to talk to them, but they instantly shut him down. Then, to make matters worse, they sent him away on a hunting trip that same day.

Without Satoru there to keep the thoughts at bay, Suguru literally couldn’t help himself. The beast shifted before he could even do anything about it, and he was instantly blood hungry.

Tears coated his face as he shifted back to his human form. Killing the elders didn’t even help soothe him. He just wanted his fucking mate for christ’s sake. He sat on the floor in a scatter of papers from where the two beasts had fought valiantly.

Nothing could replicate the feeling of emptiness that filled him in that moment. His best friend wasn't there. His mate had been gone for oh so long. The pack leaders were now all deceased. When tomorrow morning rolled around, he'd likely be ostracized from his pack for the murders.

He laid his head back against the wall with his hands covering his face. He just wanted to see Satoru one last time before he was expelled and shunned. He wanted to apologize and thank Gojo for sticking by him for all these years.

At some point, the sleep deprivation got to Geto, causing for him to fall asleep naked in the massacre that was the pack leader's tent. Nightmares of slaughter plagued his dreams. Your face haunted him. He wondered what could've been had he known better than to mark you at an early age.

It felt so real, that he swore he heard your voice, though it was different in his dream. Your voice wasn't as squeaky as it use to be. It was smooth with age and experience yet still soft spoken. Maybe he was forgetting the way you sounded? The thought terrified him. His memory was all he had left of you.

You were... laughing? No, it couldn't be you. The voice sounded more like Gojo's-

The tent unzipping. A gasp. "Shit. Don't-" Gojo's voice.

Geto fluttered his eyes open to see Gojo standing in the small doorway of the makeshift shelter. He had... a woman's eyes covered. Her bottom lip was trembling.

"Suguru, what did you do?" Satoru asked like he did all those years back, and suddenly, Suguru felt like a small child who had no impulse control. He quickly scrambled up to his feet, using a random sheet of paper to cover his manhood.

"You were gone, and I just... I just really fucking..." His words trailed as his eyes looked over towards the woman. His heart started to pound in his chest. She looked... so much like you. It was as if he was being confronted with the ghost of his past once again.

"I went to go get her, Suguru." Satoru calmly explained with a hint of bite in his tone. "You really think I'd listen to what those old geezers said about not going to look for her? I grilled every last one of them until they slipped up and gave me enough information to find her."

Geto's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his pupils were dilated as he stared at the woman who was quietly trembling next to Satoru. His hand covered most of her face. "Is that...?"

"In the flesh." Satoru said as his hand slowly dropped from your eyes. Chills shot through Geto's body as he saw his mate's face again.

"Sugu..." Your little nickname for him. His breath went labored as he took in the sight of you for just one moment. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears before he dropped the sheet of paper and lunged for you.

His large muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace against him. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered in your ear like a mantra. His hands roamed across your back as if he was double checking that this was real.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He whispered again in a pained voice. This was not how he wanted you to see him. He was at his lowest. “I’ve missed you so much. It feels like I’ve been underwater this entire time.”

You gently nuzzled your face into his chest, and you took a deep breath, savoring his scent. A content hum fled your lips. He smelled like home. “I’ve missed you too, Sugu.”

Suguru had grown so much since you last saw him. His body was now muscular and toned. His hair was even longer. It was tied up in a half knot while the rest of it messily splayed down his back. He wasn’t just a boy anymore — a man now.

“I hate to be the one to ruin this reunion, but there’s dead pack elders that we have to deal with.” Satoru spoke up as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Suguru reluctantly pulled back from you, not ready to let go of his missing mate. “I have no intention of staying here.” He said, eyes glancing over to the corpse on the ground. “This pack is a shit show.”

“So, what do we do?” Satoru asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. It was never a question in his mind. Satoru was going to go wherever Geto went.

“We start our own pack.” Geto casually threw out the idea with a small shrug. “It’s not impossible. If those incompetent creatures could do it, so can we.”

*** *** ***

You were happy and content to follow Geto and Gojo wherever the two went. It had been so long since you’ve seen the two males. You had almost forgotten how much mischief they could get up to.

Every day was filled with hiking, trying to find a new place to settle down. Every night was spent around a small fire, listening to the stories of the two while you were sent away.

When you and Geto would finally lay together next to the fire, he’d lazily play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were and how there was never a day that went by when he didn’t think of you.

“Have I mentioned how terrible it was without you?” He murmured in your ear while his large hand was gently caressing your hip. He would carefully slip it underneath your shirt. The pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“Only a million times.” You giggled in response, looking up at him to meet his gaze.

“Make it a million and one then. It was terrible.” He quietly laughed, not wanting to wake up Satoru who was snuggled on the ground on the other side of the fire.

“I missed you too.” You replied. Your hand carefully reached up and cupped his cheek. Your head was resting on his bicep while your legs were intertwined. “I tried calling out to you often through the mate bond.”

“I felt it each time.” He admitted as his hand slowly snaked higher up your torso. “I felt each time you went into heat and needed me.”

The fire calmly crackling masked the small whimper that fled from your lips. “I’m sorry. I know that probably drove you crazy.”

“You have no idea.” He muttered as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the mark on your neck. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. Your body knew you were his before you presented as well. “I dreamt of going out to find you.”

“Yeah? What would you do had you found me while I was in heat?”

“Mmm..” He hummed in a low tone as he gazed at you with a small smirk on his face. “I would sneak into whatever tent you were in like I use to when we were kids.” He spoke softly as his hand continued to trail up your side slowly.

“I’d find you lying there, already such a mess for me.” He went on, painting the picture vividly for you. Your eyes slipped shut as you imagined it for yourself. “Then, I’d pin you down to your nest, stopping you from taking care of yourself.” He went on, and he rolled on top of you, pinning your arms down with his free hand.

The sickly sweet scent of your arousal building lingered in the air, making Suguru’s heart pound in his chest. You smelled even more yummy than he imagined you to.

“What next?” You ask softly in a breathless voice.

“I’d kiss your lips until they were bruised.” He mumbled, and he leaned down to you before pressing his lips harshly against yours. He groaned softly as soon as he could feel you kissing back. He poured all of his love and hunger into his affections. He needed you like he needed air. You were his sole salvation - his reason for living

He carefully pushed your shirt up over your chest, and he skillfully reached behind you, unclasping your bra within a few seconds. You worked with him, pulling it away from your body before you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His hand came up and carefully cupped your breast. Hs kneaded on the soft pillowy flesh with another groan. He gently bit your swollen lip, asking for entry before proceeding to deepen the kiss. He swallowed up your small moans and gasps.

"Then," he softly pant out after parting from the kiss, "I'd mark up your neck again and again. I never want you to forget who you belong to." His head dipped into your neck, and his lips latched on to the soft skin.

He sucked, nibbled, and bit his way up and down your neck, making good on his promise to mark you up. Your hips raised up to meet his, needily searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs.

"My poor omega.." He mumbled softly against your skin before allowing his hand to trail down and to grope you at your core.

"Fuck- Sugu.." Your voice was a soft whine, forgetting all about Gojo who was asleep not even 10 feet away.

"Shhh, princess. Don't wake him." Suguru shushed you softly with a impish grin. His hands now worked to take your pants and panties off. "Want me to keep going?"

"Please..." Your face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire before you two. A soft blush spread across your cheeks.

"Mmm, then you have to be quiet." Suguru teased before he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing at your glistening cunt. "Oh, so pretty." He mused before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your folds.

Suguru's mind was running haywire as he generously lapped at your wet heat. He had imagined this happening so many times while he fucked his own fist. It's all finally worked out. He's finally gotten to taste you, to hear you moan his name.

Your fingers entangled in his hair, holding onto him for support while he devoured you thoroughly.

"Mmn.. Sugu~ S'close... please." You quietly whimpered out, warning him of your impending release while he slurped at your cunt, drinking down your slick as if you were a fountain of youth.

"Can you hold it, baby?" His voice was muffled as he didn't dare part from you.

"N-no, I-" You softly whine, starting to rock your hips back and forth across his tongue. You were desperate for release, nearly riding his face to get there.

Suguru tugged back away from you. "That just won't do, darling." He mumbles as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his pants and boxers down just enough. "I need your first time finishing with me to be on my cock. Think you can do that for me?"

You're quick to nod in agreement with his wish, desperately needing the approval of your alpha. You had already caught a glimpse of his size when you and Satoru first arrived. Even when soft, Suguru still isn't small. Now that he's fully hard, it's almost intimidating.

"Mmm~ such a good girl." He quietly praised as he carefully guided his cock between your slick covered folds. He held your gaze as he rubbed his tip up and down, creating a wet "schlick" noise with each movement. His poor neglected cock leaked sticky pre-cum along your core, making everything so messy.

"Bite on my hand." He instructed as he placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't want you makin' too much noise." With a small huff, you bite down onto his hand.

Humping you a few more times, Geto finally decided to push himself into you. Your body immediately went rigid as you tried to cope with the new pressure between your legs. It felt as if he was trying to split you in two, completely impaling you with his thick cock.

"Ohh~ fuuu... That's it.." Geto's voice was deeper and extremely breathy. His eyes were half-lidded as he continued to watch your facial reactions. The small tears crowding the corners of your eyes made him throb. "You're so fucking tight."

"it's not gonna fit-" You quietly whined behind the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, your fingernails were embedded into his back, decorating him with scratch marks.

"It's gonna fit, baby." He quietly reassured you as he pulled back a bit and sunk back in. Your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to push in more. "Gotta let me stretch you."

"Ngh~ ah.." Your voice cracked as your leaned your head back against the ground. Suguru's hips rolled, just barely fucking into your tight cunt. He'd add another inch with each thrust, allowing you time to gradually get use to him.

The air was filled with shushed panting and breathy whines. The sound of your sopping cunt squeezing around him was like a holy song to him. You were the only slice of heaven Geto would ever see.

He had been so caring; you hadn't even realized he was all the way in until you felt a thump towards your stomach. "Ohmygod-" The gasp fell from your mouth before you could even think to stop it. "Fuuuck... feel you right here.." You meekly murmured as you pointed towards your tummy.

"Yeah baby? Feel me all the way in there?" He humors your intoxicated speech as he's lovingly thrusting into you. "You feel so fucking good." He praised as he peppered your face in sweet kisses.

Your spongy walls cling to his dick with each soft thwack of his balls clapping against the flesh of your ass. You're completely soaked around him, allowing him to glide in and out with ease.

His fat tip was damp with sweltering pre-cum gathering at his slit. With each thrust, his tip was kissing at your womb, making you feel all dumb in the head. He occupied his mouth with kissing and sucking more love bites into your shoulders. "So good, baby... ah~ so fuckin' good." He continued to mumble praises in a pussy drunk tone.

Both of your bodies were glistening in a mix of sweat and slick. The fire raged beside you two keeping you very warm while he pumped in and out. "Can't get enough. Need more.. ngh~ M-missed you so much." He growled lowly in your ear as his tender thrusts grew sloppier - fueled by an intense need.

"Suguu~ fuck me." That little needy whine was all he needed to start forcefully pounding into you. Noise level be damned; he needed his omega on a biblical level that Satoru would never be able to understand.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your poor cunt was practically sobbing for him - making a complete mess between your thighs as his cock rudely drilled into you. Your back arched up off of the ground, and you could feel your eyes rolling back. It felt like you were ascending to a higher being.

Suguru caught your lips in a sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected your mouths like strings of fate as you muffled each others moans. "Need to knot you - f-fuck, please, let me knot you."

Your legs wrap completely around Suguru's waist. "Knot me, Sugu.. hngh~ I'm s'close.."

Suguru's legs began to shake as he could feel his balls growing heavy. Instincts completely drove him to keep fucking himself into your drooling cunt. His eyes stayed on you as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Sh-shit!" You hissed as your gummy walls suddenly tightened around him. The squelching noises slowed as he felt his knot starting to swell. His hands gripped onto your hips as he had to force his way deep inside your wet heat. The knot locking you two in place before he completely spilled inside you.

"Fuuucking hell..." Suguru breathed out as he stayed planted on top of you. His breath was labored as his hand brushed a few stray hairs from your face. "No one will ever take you away from me again. You're mine."

Bonus Scene!

Upon waking up the next morning on Suguru's bare chest, you sighed contently. Your body ached in the best way. Though, you knew it would only make this trek even harder.

You slowly sat up with a quiet groan. Your face was slightly sticky from sweat and drool. He had really wore you out last night.

"Morning, sleepy head." Suguru mumbled as his eyes rested upon your tired face.

"Mmm.. morning." You quietly hummed as your hands instinctively smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable.

"Good morning, Satoru." The white-haired alpha spoke to himself in a grumpy, sarcastic tone as he stared at the two of you.

"It's too early for your attitude, Satoru." Suguru quietly laughed as he looked at his friend.

"You can deal with my attitude given what I had to deal with last night." He huffed as his lips curled into a slight pout.

"You didn't-"

"Oh, I did." He confirmed. "Oooohhh, please knot me, Sugu. Oh so big and strong!" He mocked your voice in a high pitched tone.

"Oh god, please stop." You whine as you covered your ears. A nervous laugh involuntarily bubbled up from your throat.

"Mmm, fuck. Gonna knot this tight cun-"

"That's enough, Satoru." Suguru playfully warned as he shook his head with a calm smile. It didn't bother him one bit that he heard the two of you last night because he knew that Satoru was going to hear you two again tonight as well.

Read the rest of my monstertober here !

[sutorus]

HEART SHAKER

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

WC: ~1k

WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.

A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL

“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”

you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks. 

you pump harder. 

“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”

you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs. 

“can you stop? i lost count!”

satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back. 

you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin. 

you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply. 

“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”

you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results. 

satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly. 

“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”

“resident,” you correct him. 

you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him. 

of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was. 

it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient. 

“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer. 

“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore. 

satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”

you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg. 

you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again. 

“turn infinity off.”

“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”

“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”

he won’t. 

“wanna play doctor?” 

you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities. 

grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.

he complained about a migraine to shoko. 

it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times. 

“how’s your head?” you ask him. 

“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”

a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two. 

“satoru, please.”

“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”

“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping. 

satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two. 

“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”

at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on. 

you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out. 

“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”

“hmm?”

you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face. 

“why is your heart beating so fast?”

at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush. 

“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“

“it’s hard, alright—“

“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you. 

“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”

“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”

you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.

he hums contentedly when you pull away.

“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”

you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.

“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”

he coos.

“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”

despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.

“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”

satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.

“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.

“no problem. now shoo.”

you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.

“ah, but i was wondering—“

“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.

“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“

“out!”

he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.

you take a deep breath.

you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.

[missqhughes]

HATE TO WANT YOU | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> includes: smut with plot, dom!quinn, fingering, unprotected sex, sexual themes, use of y/n, intended lowercase, platonic fem!reader x luke & jack

-> IN WHICH: y/n loves her best friend luke with all her heart, but there’s one person she can’t stand; his brother. she can’t take it anymore; in a confrontation with quinn, he can’t help but drop his facade and give her everything he’s always wanted to.

-> sexxxxyyyy request anon thank you! i too want quinn to hate me and then fuck me senseless. drooling. love it as much as i do! mwah

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

this wasn’t y/n’s first summer with the hughes brothers.

and it wasn’t her first at the lake house.

ever since they bought it, she’d been there every summer since.

she loved the hughes family, especially her best friend luke. all of them treating her like their own, all except quinn.

and now she stood in the living room, leisurely on her phone, when a rough shoulder shoves past her,

“can you not stand in the middle of hallway? always in the fucking way…” quinn mumbled, ruffling his hair whilst disappearing into the pool room.

y/n scoffed, trying to appear unphased by quinn’s attitude.

quinn had it out for her for so long she couldn’t even remember a time he didn’t act like he hated her. shoving her roughly whenever they all would play together, putting spiders on her body in the summer when he knew she was afraid, and god, all his rude comments galore.

she shook out of her thoughts, making her way to luke’s room, knocking five times to signal to the other that it was them.

“come in!”

she didn’t bother creaking open the door, luke was sitting on his computer playing video games, her flinging herself onto his bed. y/n sighed, causing him to pause his focus and face her,

“what’s wrong? you never just dramatic sigh for nothing.”

she sat up, scrunching her nose before answering, “have you ever noticed… that like… do you think quinn hates me?”

luke gave her a look, “hates you? like genuinely?”

“yes.”

for some corrupt reason in her mind, he started laughing at her question,

“luke! it’s not funny! i’m being serious.”

luke held is stomach, his laughter dying down a bit, “he just treats you like a little sibling that’s all. plus why do you care what quinn thinks? you’ve never brought it up before.”

his words stirred in her brain. sure, she had never mentioned it, but deep down it bothered her and she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why.

because it was just plain rude?

because she couldn’t stand up for herself?

because she found quinn attractive?

thinking about it all made her chest feel weird.

“i don’t care. i mean, i guess i do, i don’t want my best friends brother to hate me for the rest of our lives,” y/n sighs, laying back down on luke’s messy sheets.

he removed his headset and sat next to her, patting her leg affectionately,

“dude you’re fine, i promise he doesn’t hate you, lighten up okay? you’re freaking me out,”

the two giggled softly at his comment, y/n feeling better with luke’s reassurance but not quite. nonetheless, she decided to ignore it.

“sorry, sorry, can’t be mopey here. let’s go down to the dock yeah?”

luke’s smile grew, “race you down there?” he lightly shoved her off his bed, out of his bedroom,

“i’ll beat you to it lukey!”

——————————————————————————

y/n did beat luke down to the dock, only to be met with quinn.

and only quinn.

not even picking up his head to look at her, quinn continued to scroll on his phone as y/n laid her towel down.

“y/n.”

“hello quinn.”

the awkward silence sat between them per usual when this sort of thing happened, when they were finally in a weird position of being alone together. y/n put her sunglasses on, feeling quinn’s glare branding her skin every time he looked at her.

in time to save her, luke ran down, towel and speaker in hand.

“damn it!” he huffed, completely out of breath and throwing his things down next to hers in defeat. she giggled, and saw quinn rolling his eyes out of the corner of hers.

quinn cleared his throat, getting up off the chair, “well now that the peace and quiet is gone, i’m going up. see you guys for dinner.” and with that, he disappeared up to the house.

luke waved off his brother, focused on his phone picking a song. y/n watched until she knew quinn was out of sight, then shoved luke hard in the shoulder,

“shit y/n, what the hell was that for?”

“i told you he hates me. he literally just went up as soon as i came down!”

“dude, he went up because he knew we’re gonna play music and you know how he is. seriously what’s up with you? you’re way too bothered by this.”

she rolled her eyes at him, not really being able to exactly articulate why she felt the way she did. at least not to him.

“i told you already i just don’t want him hating me for the rest of our lives,”

“want me to ask?”

y/n’s eyes widened, shoving luke once more, “no! that’s so embarrassing luke don’t,”

he shoved her back, “then YOU ask him, jesus! ask him after dinner or something,”

she laid on her side, facing him with contemplation in her eyes, he shrugged in response, “doesn’t hurt to say somethin,”

“okay fine, but if i’m totally right then i’m blaming you.”

after soaking up the hot summer sun, y/n and luke retreated back into the house. both exhausted, they parted their ways until dinner.

not another body was sighted in the house, and thinking quinn and jack went to the store, she went down to the kitchen to get a drink, restoring the energy the sun brought out of her.

she grabbed a coke from the fridge, hearing footsteps behind her she turned her head around, and there was quinn.

she all of a sudden felt very exposed in front of him her small bikini, especially alone in the kitchen. it’s different on the dock, you’re not supposed to be wearing barely nothing inside.

she turned her head back, hearing quinn let out a long exhale as he slipped past her, likely annoyed by just her simply being in his vicinity. the tension still stood thick between them, and in the discomfort y/n made a break for her room, not looking back.

——————————————————————————

she tried to get through dinner as normal, but y/n couldn’t control the bouncing in her leg, the anxiety of asking quinn the dreaded question manifesting through the rest of her body.

after everyone was done, her and luke stood beside each other doing dishes, him giving her a slight nudge when quinn left and settled with jack in the living room.

“so are you gonna say something?” he whispered, barely loud enough for her own ears to pick up,

“yeah i will, just not right now. not when there’s an audience,” she said wiping her hands, waiting for luke to finish up.

“you guys wanna watch a movie?” jack’s voice echoed,

“yeah we’re coming!” luke replied, waving her over to walk with him. they sat on the two available chairs, while jack and quinn occupied the couch.

jack had already picked something out, and even though it had just started, she felt eyes peering at her. y/n continued to look over at luke, who was focused on the screen, thinking it was him. she looked over at jack, who was in the same boat as his younger brother, then eventually landing at quinn.

his jaw ever so slightly squeezed tighter when her eyes met his, wandering his piercing eyes to the tv. she shuffled in the chair, attempting to mend the discomfort she felt.

——————————————————————————

with about an hour left of the movie, jack stretched, yawning as he sat up from the couch, “i’m gonna go to bed, i’m exhausted, night everyone,”

everyone said goodnight back as he left, leaving just the three of them behind.

this time, luke was looking over at y/n, and when her glance met his, she saw him looking at the situation in front of him, seeing the idea formulate in his head.

y/n looked at him with a pleading face, begging for him not to put the pressure on her right then and there, but he ignored,

“you guys can finish the movie without me, i’m lowkey really tired too.”

“luke,” y/n began, slightly weary,

“goodnight,” he said quickly, jogging to his bedroom, as fast and as least suspicious as possible. she fell back in the plush chair gently, avoiding even looking in quinn’s direction.

they sat there, she was sure neither of them were even watching, and decided that it was enough,

“can i ask you something?” she breathed out, feeling like the air from her lungs came with her words.

quinn turned his head to look at her, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting her to say anything,

“what?”

“why do you not like me?”

the questioned lingered in the air for far longer than she felt okay with. feeling frustrated, she got up, cursing at herself internally for even asking him such a question,

“wait,”

she doesn’t, instead marches straight to her room, not stopping when she hears footsteps behind her.

she gets halfway down the hallway just at the staircase before a gasp leaves y/n’s breath when she feels herself be spun around and pinned onto the wall.

quinn pins her by the hips, eyes staring deep into her own, an unreadable expression on his face.

“you didn’t let me finish.”

“then finish.” she spat back, done with his antics and still embarrassed about leaving her hanging in the living room.

“i was going to say i don’t hate you, before you ran away like a scared little kid.”

she scoffed, not believing a word he said when he just had to throw in an insult in.

“you really expect me to believe that? you’ve done nothing but torn into me since the day we’ve met. i don’t get it, i’ve done nothing to you quinn. nothing.”

he let her words soak into him, taking in all of herself in front of him, admiring it internally.

“it’s not you as a person i hate.” he said, the placement on her hips unwavering,

“so you do hate me,” she kissed her teeth, “then what is it quinn? what do you hate about me that isn’t just me?”

his breathing was hard yet steady, thinking over his next words,

“for one,”

his grip tightened,

“i hate that you’re talking back to me right now,”

y/n’s heart rate picked up,

“i hate how fucking hot you look when you dance around in practically nothing all day,”

his hands moved up slightly,

“i hate how much lukey loves you, how you’re all his and-”

“-luke and i will never be that,” she stopped him, not wanting him, or anyone for that matter, to think her and luke were anything more than friends.

“not what i meant. he gets to spend all this time with you, here there everywhere, and it makes me hate you.”

she felt her heartbeat everywhere in her body, ears hot and arousal seeping through her with his words.

y/n swallowed, “why does that make you hate me?” she whispered, falling into this version of quinn right before her eyes.

“because i hate that i want you, you of all people,” he said lowly, face moving close enough to where their breaths could mingle, crossing territories neither of them have dared to even look at with each other.

“if you don’t like this, tell me. if it’s too much, tell me to stop,” his hands felt around her waist, a different kind of tensions between them now, with only air and opportunity separating them.

“don’t, don’t stop,” she let out, closing her eyes in anticipation for him. and boy, did it come.

quinn’s lips hooked on to hers, primal and eager to explore her mouth. his lips spoke louder than his voice ever could.

y/n’s hands worked their way up from his shirt covered abs to his face, holding it in her hands while he kissed her in a way that told her it wasn’t just her lips he was going to be tasting.

he savored every time his teeth sunk into her plump bottom lip, gently tugging and feeling himself grow harder with the soft noises she let out whenever he did so.

quinn walked them to the couch, and he pulled away to push her down softly, y/n looking at up at him, needy and wanting more. he wasted no time in diving down to kiss her again, his hand finding its way down her shorts.

he smiled devilishly when he was met with a damp spot in her underwear, knowing she was fully soaked underneath,

“already fucking dripping for me huh? m’sure you’ve wanted this,” he mumbled against her lips, feeling her moan on his when he started rubbing her clit through her clothed core.

he pulled away, wanting to see how she looked withering under his teases. y/n’s bottom lip was between her teeth, one of her hands gripping onto quinn’s tshirt,

“mm, quinn, need your hands inside me,”

he knew it too, craving for his fingers to fuck her pussy and make a mess on his hand.

he peeled off her shorts, mouth almost watering seeing her pussy drip through her panties. he moved them to the side, running his ring and middle fingers between her folds before plunging them into her.

y/n covered her mouth, knowing the guttural moan that was going to escape her lips was uncontrollable. her back arched as he curled his fingers, using his thumb to circle her clit at a pace soon to send her over the edge.

her grip on his shirt caused her knuckles to turn white, and he felt her clench around his fingers, close to her release,

“yeah that’s it… cum for me, y/n,”

she panted, legs shaking slightly as the tightness in her stomach loosed, her juices glistening all over his hand as he pumped into her through her high.

quinn brought his hands up to lick his fingers, cleaning her off of them,

“you taste so fucking good, god i need you,”

y/n grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss, drunken off quinn making her cum so quick.

“fuck me, quinn hughes. fuck me like you hate me.”

those words were enough for him, effortlessly he threw her over his shoulder, grabbing her shorts and carrying her up towards his room, the one place in the house she had never been.

he put her down on his bed, y/n taking in every part of quinn’s room, a sight she had yet to look at.

he was sure as hell neater than luke, little canucks things here and there as well as small things he’s collected over the years. it was cute to her to see the difference in how he acted vs his safe space, even a small teddy bear resting on his dresser.

her mind went back to reality when she heard the door click, quinn turning back to crawl on top of her on his bed.

he slightly pushed her legs apart, y/n hooking them around his waist instinctively, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her jaw and neck.

y/n felt her core growing burning hot, squeezing her legs tight around his waist, desperate for friction on her core.

“you needy huh? turn around.”

y/n obliged, but not before taking off her shirt, whilst facing quinn, seeing his adam’s apple shift when she was left in just a bra and underwear.

she turned around, sticking her ass high in the air for him, quinn admiring her arch pulled her panties down her legs, a bead of arousal following with.

he couldn’t wait any longer, he stripped off all his layers of clothing, pumping his stiff dick leaking with precum before aligning himself with her.

at first he pumped slowly, just to get himself fully inside, but after that he slammed into her, erotic noises emitting from the muffled sheets whilst he fucked her senseless.

quinn groaned at the feeling of y/n around his dick, squeezing it perfectly every time he pounded her in just the right spot.

she gripped his sheets hard, feeling herself come undone underneath him, whimpering into the bed with pleasure.

quinn snaked his around her neck, pulling her up by it and fucking her harder,

“you like it— shit, when i fuck you like this?”

“fuck oh my god, yes quinn, mm,”

he pushed her back into the bed, his thrusts become sloppy and untamed, dick twitching as he let go inside of her, warm release coating the inside of her pussy.

quinn flipped her back over, kissing her cheek before collapsing next to her on the bed, both still buzzing from sex.

“quinn?”

“yeah?” he replied, still trying to catch the rhythm in his lungs,

“i don’t think you hate me anymore,” y/n said, breathlessly laughing as she closed her eyes, also trying to regain herself.

he chuckled softly, handing her clothes back to her before putting on his own.

“as much as i’d like you to stay,” he said, running a hand through his now messed up hair, “you should go back to your room, wouldn’t want lukey having a heart attack seeing you come out of my room in the morning huh?”

she shuddered at just the thought of it, “absolutely not,” she stood up, shaky legs carrying her to his door, quinn right behind,

“but between us, you’ll be back in here tomorrow night.”

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia