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mini-ism · 29 days ago

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#— FLICK YOUR LIGHTER ; IGNITE MY FLAME

pairings: lighter lorenz x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 2,496

synopsis: after lighter’s bike gets vandalized, he seems to find some solace in your laughter. hearing your voice ring in his ears sparks the flame of passion. a kindling is as deadly as an explosion.

warnings: sloppy makeout, biting/marking, semi-public intercourse, slight leather kink, grinding/dry humping, p in v, slight praise kink, semi-clothed, some plot, rough intercourse, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

notes: crossposted to AO3, lighter is bae

lighter was always one to keep his cool.

effortless finesse was always his style, slick and oozing with swagger. always leather-clad, impeccable and sharp as his instinct. slightly illusive, maybe, with his style, though that tight leather didn’t lie about his physique. his sunglasses shielded him from the blaring sun of the outer ring, or maybe the scorching glare of his opponent. yet, not once did he falter, burning brighter than a star, than the flame of passion. he lived up to his name, without a doubt. never was he engulfed by it, he emerged time and time again, with ease.

it took you out of your thoughts, sitting on the edge of a wooden platform, you could hear his slight cursing, growling under his breath, “damn thugs,” and, “the fucking audacity!” piper simply grumbled tiredly in response, turning your head to witness the commotion. piper was rubbing her eyes tiredly, nodding to lighter’s fussing, the back of his hand reaching to rub the sweat from his brow.

“lighter, no reason to cuss and whine, it’s really no biggie,” she attempted to console him, to little avail. “i can fix up your paint, they didn’t cause too much damage. seems like your parts are all intact too, calm down now…”

he huffed, “i’m not upset about whatever damage this is, you’re right, it’s nothing. they have some nerve trying to ruin my bike, that’s what i’m pissed about!” lighter folded his arms, assessing the damage for the umpteenth time. he diligently cared for his bike, but lighter was never one to tolerate disrespect.

piper wheeled off the bike to her workstation, nodding off a few times as she carefully thought about how to fix his precious motorbike. he trudged away, footsteps heavy. you could hear the crunch of the dry, hot sand below him as he came close to you. for a while, he stood behind you, scarf whipping in the wind as it blew hot air in both of your faces.

“yes, lighter?” you turned to look at him, “is everything alright? i overheard what happened with your bike.”

just as soon as he heard “bike,” he scowled slightly, his sunglasses reflecting the terrain rather than mirroring his expression. “probably too chickenshit to do it right in front of me. how funny is that?” lighter’s words carried humor, but his delivery did not.

“you’re saying they’re cowards?” the glint of the sunbeam in his sunglasses told you everything you needed to know, the desert wind lashing you and him in the face. he seemed ever-so unperturbed, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more things could possibly be pissing him off? how does he remain so undisturbed by it?

“i’ll be fine, though. don’t worry too much, you’ll get wrinkles like lucy.” he tilted his head down to meet your gaze, a slight smile playing on the corners of his lips. you couldn’t help but chuckle, who knows what lucy would have done if she heard that? instinctively, he lowly chuckled too, your humor slightly infectious.

“i know, i’m funny.” lighter remarked, seeing you laugh slightly harder. you were always the first to erupt in laughter when he made a joke. “you think caesar is gonna make me do comedy next?” lighter grinned as you continued to giggle, your gleeful and unrestrained display stirring something within him. it felt a lot hotter now than it did before. it’s gotta be the sun coming up now.

“okay, okay, that’s enough now.” lighter’s voice was lighter, almost playful. if you kept giggling like this, everyone is gonna start wondering what got you so worked up. “you gotta tell me what burnice made for you this time. what the hell has she been doing to you?”

with your next eruption of laughter, lighter wrapped a strong arm around your abdomen and lifted you up, hauling you by his waist. he let out a breath and carried you further away from prying eyes. mercilessly, he dropped you, watching you catch your breath with a few heavy exhales and snorts. “you shouldn’t be laughing at a man whose had his property damaged.”

his serious tone was accompanied by a coy grin as he towered over your slumped form, “get up. come on, you are grown.” lighter waited as you got yourself up with weak muscles, that same flame flickering in his soul as you beamed at him. he cleared his throat as he flushed lightly, averting his gaze momentarily. now the moment was getting stale, not much else he could really say without taking a step backwards and making you laugh again.

“how long is it gonna take for you to get your bike back, lighter?” you said, with a slight exasperated breath, your cheeks still hurting slightly from heartily laughing. “not long, piper’s great at what she does. maybe a day, if she manages not to pass out a few times.”

you took in your surroundings, noting that you both were sandwiched between two buildings, the space between them cold and narrow. lighter might have already forgotten why you both were here, or what else he might’ve wanted to say.

lighter fixed his sunglasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. “does that leather ever get hot?”

“what? i mean, yeah, it does.” he replied blankly.

“why do you wear it then? you know it’s quite hot in the outer ring,” your eyes were glued to the way his jacket clung to his muscles, leaving nothing to be imagined, only observed. “is it cause you want to show off?” your eyes travelled back up to his, holding his steely gaze.

“i show off enough in a fight, wouldn’t you agree? are you asking me to show off for you, now?” lighter probed, folding his arms again, you watched as they flexed under the tight jacket he wore, threatening to nearly bulge out of it.

“if you wanna, i won’t complain.” seriously, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from his arms. they were huge, and that jacket did nothing but define them even more. your words came out more breathy than you wanted them to, causing him to sharply inhale and hold it. as he drew in that breath, you could see his chest puff up as his abs tightened, letting the air shakily exit.

“fuck, you’re testing me, huh?” lighter quickly looked to his left and right, where you both might be seen. there wasn’t anyone around, but he cautiously checked a few more times. before you could react, he pressed his lips to yours, grabbing your upper arms tightly. his kiss was heated and firm, as was his grip around your arm. his fingers pressed into your triceps, wrapping almost entirely around your arm, “you really want to test me? i’m sure you know this leather is hot, but what you don't know is how bad i want to take it off now.”

you could feel his breath ghost against your skin, causing you to shiver as he leaned in, “but i can’t. not yet, tonight. doesn’t mean i can’t give you what we both want.” his words made you squirm, his grip tightening as you wriggled around in arousal. he chuckled lowly, pressing closer to you. without a thought, you wrapped your arms around him, coming beneath his arms to meet on the vast expanse of his back. you could feel every heavy breath through his jacket, how the muscles over his abs and ribs moved with each desperate huff.

as he caged you between the wall and his body, lighter pressed his lips to your neck, exposing the thin, delicate flesh of your throat with a gentle raise of the jaw. you screwed your eyes shut, gripping at the tight-fit that was his jacket, whimpering softly at the sensation. lighter worked his way down, pressing kisses from your mastoid to your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the tender skin on the way down. you could feel his tongue run down the side of your throat, catching your pulse point, savoring the feeling of your rushing blood under his tongue. the sensation was enough to make you squirm and whine.

“you’re real heated now, huh?” lighter whispered against your skin, “just as needy as me.” as he spoke, you could feel the incessant press of his hard cock against you, making you squeak. he turned your head further to the side, exposing the lengthened muscle of your neck further to him. he dove in, gripping your hip tightly with his other hand, sucking onto your neck. he released it with a pop, biting the weak flesh playfully. lighter could hear the pained noise you made, fueling his lustful haze further.

lighter groaned at the sensation, feeling you move beneath him, the friction of your movements rubbing against him. “you tease, you know what you’re doing to me.” you gripped his back harder, pressing yourself into him with vigorous need. he could feel a sharp jolt on his own neck as he let go of your jaw, a playful bite marking his own neck. “fuck, you bit me? that’s petty.”

with another searing kiss, his hands snaked lower, making their way into your pants. he rubbed your clit slowly with his two digits through the fabric of your panties, causing you to moan softly into his demanding lips. lighter’s tongue demanded entrance, exploring your mouth with his, subconsciously grinding against your thigh as he tasted your lips and tongue with his own. he didn’t care much for the mess he was making, saliva dribbling onto both of your chins as his hand and hips continued to pick up the pace. you moaned again into lighter’s kiss, bucking your hips against his touch, feeling the heat build slowly between your thighs. with each stutter of your hips, his cock throbbed in his pants, feeling your thigh brush against him with little restraint.

lighter broke the intense kiss to murmur against your heated lips, “feels so good when you do that, you feel good baby?”

you nodded into his embrace, whining with each stroke of your hardened clit, the fabric separating his touch from your aching pussy — your worst frenemy. lighter pressed himself against you again, “touch me.”

you dropped your dominant hand from his back, the other hand clinging desperately as it had been. lighter grabbed your hand gently, guiding it to his hard cock, drinking in the feeling of your hand through his hands. he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, eagerly shoving it down into his boxers. he let out a fervent groan, shivering as your hand wrapped around his bare cock. “fuck yes, baby. just like that, yeah…”

he groped your chest a few times through your top, hissing with pleasure each time you stroked him. he could feel pre-cum leaking from his tip, his resolve weakening as he felt you rub his shaft with the pre oozing from his cockhead. he just couldn’t take it anymore, racing to get those pants off of you and fuck. lighter’s hand eventually got them loose, pulling them down enough, pulling one of your legs through out of your pants and underwear, letting them fall and lie around one ankle. you could feel yourself exposed, the colder air contrasting your heated core as lighter excitedly huffed. he grabbed the underside of your thigh, right above the knee, pinning it upwards to expose you enough.

responsively, you pulled his pants down enough to let his cock free, guiding the tip towards your slick entrance. “you wanna take me? tell me you do.”

“i wanna take you so bad, lighter…” you murmured, more of your efforts going towards getting him all the way inside you, buried to the hilt. he drank your response in deliciously, biting his lip with his handsome low chuckle, “i know you do.”

lighter pushed into you, your slick cunt accepting him graciously. you mewled as his cock stretched you out more with each inch, covering your mouth with his to dampen your moans. every fiber of you felt like you were being split open, yet you wanted no more than that, you wanted everything he could possibly give to you. his kiss grew deeper with each inch sunk into you, the feeling of your cunt nearly intoxicating, “knew you could do it, take it good, that’s it.”

with a ferocious first thrust, you couldn’t help but yelp loudly, followed by lighter’s harsh shushing and more kisses. he took no time to break you in, fucking you with slow, brutal thrusts, each more forceful than the last. lighter could not find it in him to care if he was shaking the walls of the building he had you against. his grip on the inner underside of your thigh tightened, his nails digging into the soft, supple flesh.

“you fuckin’ like this, yeah, bet you do,” he growled between kisses, diving back in for a particularly lewd sounding tongue kiss. lighter shoved his tongue down your throat as his other hand came up to grope your breast. his thrusts were starting to become more erratic. faster, but still merciless.

“you’re so goddamn tight, fuck, you trying to keep me in you?” he looked down at his cock, breaking eye contact with you, watching how your body bounced with each thrust. he squeezed your chest particularly hard, his thumb brushing against your nipple, relishing every noise you and your body made.

“you’re getting me close, you wanna take all of me? i’ll give you what you asked for.”

without letting you respond, he drove himself deeper inside you, more so than you previously thought he could, his lingering promise hanging in the air as your body buzzed with ecstasy, “gonna fuck you so good, you won't remember a name but mine.”

you could feel the heat pooling intensely in your gut, burning like nitro-fuel down your throat, forever ablaze as passion was. passion, this is what it is. it takes a small flame to light everything on fire. a kindling is as deadly as an explosion in the right circumstances. bright and smoldering as the fucking sun.

he was right, you can’t remember a thing but the flicker of heat inside you. you tightened around him with a sweet sounding whine, your pussy gushing around his cock, his dick hitting every spot within you. you were so close, so… so close…

a kindling is as deadly as an explosion.

you leaned into him as your orgasm washed over you, riding it out as he reached his own peak, groaning curses and dirty words into your ear. yet, you couldn’t understand a word, not a single sentence. the sweat dripped down from his brow and onto your skin as his grip tightened, then loosened. your senses were on fire, the world around you both seemed to burn away, leaving nothing but the searing throes of passion and lingering desire.

quite a match, that lighter was with you.

#lighter lorenz #lighter zzz #zenless zone zero #zenless zz #zzz #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader #lighter x reader #reader x lighter #lighter lorenz x reader #mndi #lighter #zzz lighter #lighter!#lighterisbae

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skzdreamer13 · 2 months ago

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hi , hope youre well , i have a request

Romantic sex with felix pls !! and add me to your permanent taglist too pls

Day 4 Kinktober

Romantic Sex with Felix

Go to @neverendingstay page for posts on the even days of the month

Warnings: unprotected P in V, Praise, nipple play(?), bath sex

18+ MDNI!!

It's been such a hard day. All you want to do is come home and curl up with your boyfriend and go nowhere and do nothing.

You’ve been texting him and he said he wouldn't be home till later, practice is going long for him. Well at least you can relax and wait for him, but you’d like nothing more than to be in his arms.

Unlocking the door to your shared apartment, you kick off your shoes and notice the lights in the house are on, dim but on nonetheless. You could have sworn you turned them off.

You put your bag down and take off your coat and walk into the house and hear soft jazz music coming from the bedroom. Puzzled you walk down the hall, into the bedroom and there he is.

Felix sits at the end of the bed. Long blond hair pulled back away from his face in a half up half down style, small pieces of hair framing his face. In a white shirt and baggy shorts and a warm smile on his face. Your favorite smile.

“Hey baby.” He says and you’re already walking over to fall into his arms, knees on the ground as you sit between his legs, arms around his waist.

“I thought you wouldn't be home till later?” You mumble into his chest, sighing and taking a deep breath, his scent filling your lungs.

“You had a hard day, so I did what I could to get out early, I have a warm bath waiting for you.” He says as he gently strokes your hair and rubs your upper back.

Tears well in your eyes, it might be simple but it's nice to be taken care of.

You look up at him, the soft light from the room dancing on his skin making him look ethereal, his freckles, your favorite feature, look beautiful on his skin. An added bonus rather than a mark upon him.

He brings his hand up and rests it on your check, rubbing his thumb over your skin and you lean into his touch, eyes shutting as you embrace his warmth.

“Bath?” He asks simply, his voice soothing and soft. You don't have the energy to respond, so you settle for a small nod.

He helps you up and you walk over to the attached bathroom. You strip down slowly and with heavy movements, then you get into the hot water that's been waiting for you.

Lavender, your favorite, hits your nose and you look up to see Felix about to leave the room.

“Wait” you almost shout it, your hand reaching out for him.

He stops in the doorway, turning around to look at you with soft eyes.

“I don’t want to be alone.” Normally you’d revel in some solitude after a hard day, but his presence makes everything better.

“Join me, please?” You all but beg him, voice soft and shy. He smiles and you can tell he was hoping you’d ask.

After making some space for him in the small tub, he settles in behind you. You lay on him, back flush against his chest. The warm water encapsulates you both as he runs his fingers up and down your arm in a soothing motion as you sigh and relax into him.

With your eyes closed, you lay there and just enjoy the feeling of his hands on your skin and it's not before long that he starts trailing his fingers up your stomach and around your boobs, passing over your nipples lightly sending a shiver down your body.

A sigh leaves your mouth, his touch feather light, teasing but still giving you a choice if you want him to continue or not.

“I can stop.” His lips right next to your ears cause his low voice to rumble through you. His breath hot on your skin, and you can feel his cock hard behind you. You don't want him to stop, you want him to make your night better than your day was.

“No.. please don't” you have stopped caring about how needy and whiny you sound tonight, he is making everything better and you just want to melt into his touch and think about nothing else.

You feel the smile you know he wears as his lips kiss the ridge of your ear, sucking on your skin lightly, sending a wave of pleasure down your body, giving you goosebumps.

“I just want to make you feel good.” His deep voice coming out in a whisper as his hands come up and cup your boobs, massaging them lightly and you roll your head back onto his shoulder and let your eyes fall shut.

One of his hands slides down your stomach, palm flat down against your skin, as he finally reaches your pussy. You pick up one leg out of the water and hang it over the side of the tub so he can have better access to you.

His fingers run circles on your clit, the water in the tub moving with him, all while he still gropes at your boob with his other hand, playing with your nipples.

All the sensations from the warm water licking your skin, the feel of his body behind you hard and ready for you, to the way his fingers have now started sliding in and out of you at a slow rhythmic pace, it's all so much and yet you still want more. You want to be as close to him as possible.

You sit up, untangling yourself from him in an instant and when you turn to look at him your breath catches.

His hair is wet at the ends, the water from the bath at fault. His dark brown eyes, wide and wild. The dim lighting in the bathroom makes his skin glow, he's gorgeous, and you want to revel in him.

“We can get out of this tub or you can take me right here.” You say to him, stern and breathless.

“Here.” He says and you climb onto him, straddling him. His hands resting on your hips he looks up at you as you pause above him. His eyes take all of you in and a small loving smile curls his lips “you're so beautiful, It doesn't get more beautiful than you.”

Your heart swells with the confession as you lean your head down and connect your lips. The kiss is warm and loving but frantic and needy. Without disconnecting from his lips you reach down to find his cock hard beneath you, and wrap you fingers around his length. He moans on your lips, both of you too distracted to make this kiss elegant.

You sink down onto his cock, he fills you with ease. Both of you let out sighs and moans until he is seated in you fully. You sit on him, not moving, just enjoying the fullness he gives you as you kiss each other softly and passionately.

Finally you roll your hips and both of you have your eyes rolling back and moans fill the bathroom as water splashes. The space is tight and you put your hands on his chest for stability and to just feel him as much as you can. His heart racing as he becomes more breathless with every roll of your hips against his.

You know he’s getting close, you can feel him bucking his hips up, everytime you come down on his cock, cause him to push in deeper, driving you crazy and pushing you further to your orgasm.

He sits up, resting his head against your chest as you bounce on his cock, you run your hands through his hair.

“I don't think i can last much longer” his freckled cheeks are flushed, his whines and moans getting louder and you can feel his cock twitch inside you.

Before you can reassure him it’s okay, he's shuddering beneath you, releasing inside you. The sounds he makes and the feeling of warmth inside you is enough to bring you to your own release. Clenching around him as your nails dig lightly into his back.

He praises you as you come around him, making your face flush, ‘you did so well’, ‘I love the way you feel around me’ and sweet nothings leave his mouth.

The water around you has gone cold now and your fingers are pruning but neither of you care as you sit there in the tub, while you run your hands through his hair and he runs his hands up and down your back soothingly.

Kinktober Masterlist ~ Here My Kinktober Post ~ Here @neverendingstay Kinktober Post ~ Here Masterlist 18+ Taglist

Taglist

@intrikatie @juskz @stolasisyourparent @pixie0627 @paperclip-skz @yaorzu-blog @velvetmoonlght

#stray kids #skz #kpop #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids felix #felix x reader #lee felix #felix smut #felix imagines #felix stray kids #skz felix #skz oneshots #skz smut #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #felix oneshot

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taintedcigs · 1 year ago

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i know places — e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x popular cheerleader!f!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, smut, p in v, kind of degradation, jealousy, praises, nicknames, br*eding kink, cre*mpie, FIGHT!!, eddie beats someone up, gareth is an asshole im sorry, and some flufff

summary: in which you are secretly dating eddie because his friends don't like you (wc: 6k+)

a/n: HELLO hello I AM BACK! i kind of hate this, and the ending sucks pls ignore it but i wanted to post it so bad bc i love ts x eddie!! also a part of this was heavily HEAVILY inspired by an ep of veronica mars bc its one of my fav shows!! also no dividers and i didn't proof-read SO PLEASE ignore the mistakes plss

Four months.

It had been four months since you and Eddie had started to “secretly date.”

And in all honesty, it had been fun. The sneaking around, the private dates, the quick fuck seshs in school, in the supply closet, after his D&D campaigns, in his van, in the woods.

And the teasing, oh god, the teasing.

It's why you were currently scrunched up in the back of his van, ragged breathing and curses, heavy tension filling the space.

“You done teasin’?” he asked, hovering over you.

It started with the glances in the hallway, at first, Eddie thought they were innocent. But the way you threw your head back as you touched Andy’s arm had Eddie’s jaw clenched.

He was sure his blood was boiling by the time he dragged you back to his van.

He dismissed your concerns about how he shouldn’t skip English again, he could care less, he needed you, and he needed you now.

It was driving him crazy too, while he had fun, he hated the idea of not being able to tell those stupid jocks to back off of his girl.

He hated the stupid school hierarchy and his friends for having to keep this relationship a secret, he hated not being able to show you off.

“Teasing?” You asked, an innocent smile playing on your lips.

“C’mon don’t play coy now.” He warned, “I know what you were tryin’ to do with that stupid jock.” He scoffed.

“And did it work?” You batted your lashes, and he rolled his tongue inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” He barely gave you any time to adjust before his lips hungrily attacked yours.

So needy and filled with lust that you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips. He didn’t waste any time as he reached for the edge of your tiny top almost ripping it off and letting it drop to the van’s floor.

You could feel your breath hitch with how rough he was being, his calloused fingers flipping your cheerleader skirt and moving your panties aside, sliding a finger as he groaned at the wetness, partying your pussy to get a better view of your gushing heat.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” He cursed under his breath, “Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby,” He peppered your heat. “All mine, yea?” He asked needily.

His fingers worked your clit with little circles, causing you to whimper out. “Mhmm.” You barely let out, eyes shutting immediately in pleasure.

His fingers worked to stretch you open, and his visible bulge was pressing hard against his uncomfortable pants, you knew you would get what you had been begging for all morning soon.

“You think it’s fuckin’ funny to try to make me jealous?” He raised a brow, and you stopped your lips from twitching into a smirk, you didn’t need him to edge you, not right now, not when you needed him this much.

“Nuh-uh.” You pouted, “Only did it cause you kept flirting with that girl yesterday at the gig.” You huffed, you knew you were being petty, but could care less, the downside to this whole deal was the fact that you couldn’t tell those girls to back off of him, you just had to smile and watch as they swooned all over him.

And if he could play at that game, so could you.

He gave you a slight chuckle before his fingers plunged in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned for more. “Needy fuckin’ slut.” He’s being mean, and you love it.

“I’ll give you all the attention you need, yea? Such a bratty baby.” He teased.

You cried out when he retracted his fingers, feeling empty as you pouted at him. He was quick to get his aching cock out of the uncomfortable boxers, bouncing against his stomach as he hissed.

His breathing was ragged as his cock flexed in his palm, causing your thighs to tremble with need, “Do something.” You breathed.

He raised a brow at your eagerness, “Please,” You pleaded, tears welling in your eyes at the pent-up frustration inside of you.

He was quick to dip his head down your chest, mouth nibbling at your nipples, and you arched against his fingers, he was driving you crazy and you could feel his aching cock brush against your thighs.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He cried out pinching your clit, “And all mine,” You liked how rough and possessive he got when he was jealous, you didn’t care that it was wrong, your heat was pulsing relentlessly with need.

“Jesus,” He cried out when he had one hand on your hip, and used the other to rub the tip of his pulsing cock against your entrance.

You trembled with desire when he teased you further, his pink tip sliding easily over your soaking cunt, “C’mon, thought you wanted to fuckin’ tease me?” He mocked.

“You’re already cryin’ out like a whore and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, peach,” He cooes, causing you to whine.

“N—need you,” Barely able to speak, you spread your thighs further, and Eddie gives you a chuckle, his mocking was making you throb even more.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you spread your legs like that for that dumb jock too, honey?” His words are laced with bitterness and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Uh—uh, only you,” You whine, he’s rough as he grabs your cheeks making you look at him, your eyes widen as you desperately plead for him to do something — anything.

“Since I own this tight little cunt, I’m gonna use it like I fuckin’ want to,” He growls, and you whimper at that, Eddie’s lips tilt into a smirk, he knows you enjoy his words. “You want that, peach? You want me to wreck this pretty little pussy? Fill you to the brim with my warm load?” He asks, and it makes you tilt your head backward in pleasure when he teases his tip against your entrance again.

“Mpmhm… Fuckfuckfuck, yes please!” You’re practically shaking with the need to be fucked.

He grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them against the cold walls of his van, making you hiss, barely giving you any warning before he slowly prodded his aching cock inside your velvety walls.

“Fuckohfuckohfuck,” His breathing was ragged and you could almost feel his cock splitting you open, your mouth rounding into a silent ‘Oh.’

As he plunged himself deeper into you, your back arched back toward him, making your cunt clamp down on his cock, and he growled, “S’fuckin’ tight, poor baby must’ve felt so empty without my cock, yea?” He cooes and you nod quickly.

You could feel your insides burn, both from need and from how big Eddie was. “Mmmph, greedy fuckin’ cunt. Takin’ me so well, honey.” He murmured peppering your face with kisses, you could barely take in his words, your mind clouded with desire.

Your eyes welled up in tears again, it felt so fucking good, feeling him this deep inside of you, “Shhh… you can do it baby,” Eddie encouraged as he forced himself deeper into your soaking walls.

“Be a good girl and take it all, can you do that honey?” You nodded immediately, Eddie’s hands were quick to caress your cheeks, “Good fuckin’ girl,” He murmured before he went on and on, his cock invading your walls until he was sure he was balls deep inside of you.

You couldn’t help the filthy squeaks that escaped your lips, the space of the van filled with your mewls and Eddie’s balls slapping against you.

He licks your neck before he bites hard onto your shoulder, his grunts filling the room as he plunges harder into you.

“Jesus fucking— mmpfh… just like that honey,” He murmurs into your neck, “My perfect fuckin’ girl.”

“Look so fuckin’ pretty when you’re all fucked out like this,” He nibbles on your neck, hands pinching your nipples. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, baby,” He groans as he slams further inside of you.

“Edsedsedseds!” You repeat like a mantra, “What’d’ya need, peach?” He asks smugly.

“Jesus— n-need to cum!” You cry out and Eddie’s brain short-circuits for a moment, as you lay beneath him, plump lips making ‘Oh!’ sounds as your head is tilted back, and Eddie revels in it.

“Do it, honey. Cum for me,” He encourages.

“Need that tight little cunt to clamp down on me, peach,” He groans, and your whimpers get louder, you know you’re getting close and Eddie can feel how much you tighten around him.

“Shitshitshiiit— baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ greedy, and so fuckin’ tight,” He grunts. “All mine, angel.”

“’M close, Eds…” You barely blurt out in your fucked out state, and Eddie coos, “Cum for me, honey, c’mon cream my cock.”

He tilts his hips up further and hits your velvety walls so perfectly that almost has your eyes crossing.

Once his calloused fingers make their way onto your clit, rubbing slow circles and also giving your sensitive spot a pinch you cry out, trembling beneath him as you feel yourself release around his cock.

He lets out a loud grunt, “S’fuckin’ tight when you cum, shit— Gonna fuck my load into you, baby.”

“You want that? You want me to fill that pretty pussy, have you leakin’ my cum for days?” You nod weakly, still too fucked out to answer.

“Fuckfuckfuck— yeah, baby, gonna fill your tight little hole up, gonna give you all this cum,” He grunted.

“Would you like that honey? Shit—so fuckin’ tight, beg for it, beg for me, princess—” He almost growls into the curve of your neck, his hips slamming forward roughly, “Please—Eds, please, need your cum…” You make a mewling sound and Eddie can’t help himself, he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat and he knows he’s getting close now.

“Jesus—I’m gonna cum, honey. God—I’m gonna spend all of my load in this tight little cunt peach, it’s takin’ me so well, baby, I couldn’t pull out even if I wanted to, fuckfuckfuck—”

“Goin’ to fuck my load into you, baby, need to fill you up nice and sweet,” He cooes, mind boggling with the sight of your tits jiggling each time he slams harder into you, he knows he is rearing his orgasm with the way his hips stutter.

“Cum inside’a me, please,” You purr, eyes sultry as they meet Eddie’s, his grip on your hips tightens enough to leave a mark, your words sending a wave of pleasure to him as his movement is picked up.

“Mhmm, I love it when you fill me up s’warm and nice, and make me yours,” You murmured and that was it for Eddie.

His groans became uncontrollable now, and his eyes squeezed shut, he slammed into your body one last time, roughly, a string of curses spilled from his lips before his cock pulsated and his warm sticky load painted your insides, already spilling out of your tight cunt with how stuffed you were, falling down your thighs.

With a few “Fuckfuckfuck’s” Eddie collapsed on top of you, lips peppering your face softly as he wrapped an arm around you, murmuring, “You okay, baby?”

You nodded quickly, “Mhmm…” You relaxed into his warm body, “That fuckin’ punk really thought he could flirt with you, huh?” He chuckled; he was still possessive, bringing a dark smile to your lips.

“You know what you have to do to keep them away, don’t you?” You raised a brow, and he immediately knew what you were implying, but he wasn’t ready for any of it.

“Not this again,” He huffed, and you were quick to get out of his hold, you weren’t the type to push a guy around to make things exclusive, but with Eddie, you wanted nothing more than that, you didn’t even care about the teasing you would endure when the two of you made things official, but he certainly did, and it was starting to hurt you.

“Nevermind,” You murmured, searching for your clothes as Eddie got up, “Why are we in such a hurry?” He asked, tone worried. “We already skipped one class, I don’t wanna skip another one, doofus.” You narrowed your eyes at him before slipping on your skirt, sighing in relief when you found your panties discarded on the floor.

“You mad at me or somethin’?” You could tell how fragile he was acting around you, and it made your heart ache, but all of the secrets and running around were getting to you, the girls that were throwing themselves at Eddie as he flashed them a chuckle made your blood boil, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“No, it’s just super fucking tiring to act like you don’t exist, when you’re the only person I want in my life,” Your words come out faster than you mean to, and you look at him with such a hopeful gaze that Eddie’s heart tightens, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

“Honey…” He whispers, before pulling your body to his again, “You have no fuckin’ idea how much I want that to happen, but—”

“But, what?” Your voice is irritated.

“But you know how the guys are, you know how annoying Gareth—” You immediately scoff at the name.

You had no idea when or why it happened. You had no idea what caused him to act this way toward you. But Eddie’s friends absolutely hated you. Especially Gareth. Jeff also did not like the fact that you were the head cheerleader, but Gareth almost had a vendetta against you, you had barely interacted with him, but the boy was out to get you.

You were fine with the kids, Dustin and Mike had adored you the second you protected them against Carver’s idea of a joke. Lucas, with his new place on the basketball team, understood you, granted he had no idea of what was happening between you and Eddie, but he knew you were Eddie’s friend, and he knew how hard Eddie’s friends have been on you.

And that is exactly why you and Eddie had decided to keep your relationship a secret that started a few months ago.

Eddie had doubts about what people would say about your relationship, and he couldn’t handle the fact that his friends would have a say in it, he wanted to keep you away from them, as long as possible.

And he assumed your popular friends wouldn’t be so keen on him, either.

So you agreed to keep the relationship a secret, but it was eating away at you now.

“It’s about him again, isn’t it?” You asked, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Four months and you can’t even dare to say I’m your girlfriend, because of fucking Gareth,” You spat out.

“It’s not just about that—Jesus, you think your cheerleader and jock friends would fuckin’ enjoy havin’ the freak around?” His tone was louder now and you hated it.

“I don’t care! I don’t give the slightest fuck what they would think about my boyfriend, it’s my business and they don’t fucking get a say in it, Eddie!” Your insecurities were on the surface now, even if Eddie couldn’t tell, you were hurt by him wanting to hide you away this much, caring more about Gareth who had this twisted game of trying to hurt you, and it made you feel like absolute shit like Eddie could care less about you.

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that? I do! But Gareth—” You scoffed interrupting him as you turned around to face him. “Fuck him!” Your voice raised in fury.

“Look, Eddie, if you don’t want this—” Your hand was quick to point between the two of you, “Just say the fucking word.”

“You’re twistin’ my fuckin’ words around,” His voice didn’t hold the confidence it did before, his eyes were washed over with guilt and worry, he couldn’t afford to lose you, and if he kept being a jackass, it looked like he was going to.

“You’re unbelievable,” He scoffed, “I’m unbelievable?” You quoted him, eyes narrowing again.

Eddie was on his last straws and he knew it, but he couldn’t get himself to back down, he couldn’t let you see the vulnerable side of him this soon, there was no way you would be able to stay with him, not when you saw how fragile he actually was.

“Yeah! You fuckin’ are, acting all insane and shit just because you felt jealous over some stupid girls—” And he stops there because the exasperation of breath that slipped past your lips is so loud that he realizes what he just said.

“Fuck you,” You say it so ironically and humorously, that Eddie likes to think this is one of those ironic ‘Fuck you’s you had uttered to him before, slightly nudging his side as you gave him a warm smile, but you’re nothing but cold now.

“If you think that’s what this is about then I have nothing to say to you,” Your voice was timid before you made your way to the door, Eddie’s faint mumbles of your name were just dizzying your mind when you felt the hot tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

And with that, Eddie spent the rest of the day either sulking or using other people as his anger outlet, he knew it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help it when you spent the rest of the day ignoring him, acting like he didn’t even exist, and it was killing him.

It got so much worse for him around lunchtime, his table was facing you, and his throat tightened, a lump forming at the fact that you didn’t even glance at him, not even turning your head toward his direction.

Eddie was fidgeting in his seat, he was itching to run over to your side, scream at the top of his lungs that you were his girlfriend, and kiss you, right in front of the entire school.

It was killing him, not being able to show you how much he fucking loved you. And his mind was now swirling with the idea that you finally realized how much of a loser he was, or that you finally realized how he didn’t deserve you, not in the slightest bit.

After one fucking conversation he had managed to push you away, and possibly manage to ruin one good fucking thing in his life, and he wanted to bang his head against the table while yelling out idiotidiotidiot!

Eddie knew he had to do something, as soon as possible, you were slipping away from his fingers, and he couldn’t handle losing you.

You were doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, no matter how much your head itched to cock in his direction.

Trying your best to stay unbothered as you attempted to laugh genuinely at the cheesy jokes Andy was providing the table with.

And Eddie’s blood was boiling, you seriously didn’t mean to make him jealous, but it didn’t matter to him, you were acknowledging everyone and specifically Andy right now but him, and it made Eddie’s jaw clench uncontrollably.

The banter going on at the table was unknown to him, but it made your skin crawl as if Gareth was saying some stupid shit about you again as if the entire table was mocking you, it was cruel, or at least it felt cruel to you.

That’s when your throat tightened up, your mind foggy as you could barely focus on anything but the chatter going on at Eddie’s table.

The cafeteria noises were pounding in your head now, jock’s table filled with the obnoxious laugh of Jason Carver, and you could even hear Robin blabbing something to Steve somewhere behind you. It was all a blur to you by now.

It surely had nothing to do with you but your mind and anxiety were enough to convince you that Gareth was making fun of you at the table. That little voice in your head there to tell you all the worst possibilities.

You barely noticed Eddie’s body burning off with rage when you were so focused on trying to hear what Gareth was saying, it shouldn’t have bothered you this much, but knowing how close he was to Eddie and how much he hated you… maybe it meant something.

Maybe Gareth knew that you were not good enough for Eddie, maybe you deserved it.

Maybe Gareth was right, maybe you were not right for Eddie, maybe he deserved to be with someone who liked his stupid D&D game, someone who didn’t conform, someone who wasn’t a coward, maybe someone who wasn’t a—

“Hey…”

“You okay?” Chrissy’s concerning voice caused your train of thought to disappear, at least pushing it back into your subconscious until you were ready to face your problems again.

“Mhmm,” You were quick to flash her with a smile, it wasn’t genuine and she probably knew it wasn’t genuine but, she stood silent as she didn’t want to put you on blast in front of everyone, giving you a tight-lipped smile and a reassuring squeeze in your arm, and you invited it in, cold demeanor changing within seconds.

And Eddie could sense it now, sitting across you, leaning in his chair like a storm isn’t brewing in his head, eyeing you carefully.

You slowly readjusted yourself, eyes quickly stealing a glance from Eddie’s table–but never at him.

And if he wasn’t watching he would’ve missed it, but he didn’t—hope inside of him blossoming like never before.

He was fidgeting to get out of his seat, run over to you, hands itching to hold you again, never to let go this time.

Your quick glance, instead of resulting in Eddie’s attention, brought Gareth’s unwarranted attention to you.

You felt uncomfortable in your seat now, you knew now your anxiety about him talking awfully about you to Eddie would be true now.

“She’s such a spoiled brat,” Gareth blurted out.

“Who are you talking about?” Jeff asked mindlessly, hands dipped into the fries he had been munching on.

“That stupid cheerleader,” Eddie’s head snapped at the mention of that, surely Gareth didn’t mean—Oh.

It was as if the rage building in within Eddie had snapped within seconds, thoughts in his head swirling, blaming Gareth for the fight.

“Watch it,” Eddie’s voice spoke before he turned his attention to Gareth, the table immediately quitening down.

“Excuse me?” Gareth questioned, taken aback, before Eddie cocked his head in his direction.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk about her,” His teeth were gritted, and your ears perked up at the rise in Eddie’s voice.

“The fuck are you on about?” Gareth replied back, the tension in the table was rising and Dustin was fidgeting im his seat by now.

“I’m telling you to keep your mouth shut when it comes to her, is that clear?” Eddie bounced from his seat, so quickly that he didn’t realize the entire cafeteria staring at him, including you.

Gareth gave him a confused chuckle, “I’m sorry?”

“Are you defending a cheerleader now or what? Have you forgotten how awful they have been to us?” He raised a brow.

“She didn’t do anything,” Eddie defended you like his life depended on it, he couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, for caring about Gareth’s half-witted input on you, like he ever actually had a conversation with you other than throwing insults to your way under his breath.

“So leave her alone,” It was more like a threat than anything else, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the scene, Eddie not noticing your gaze, blinded by the rage.

Eddie was barely hanging by a thread, the way he leaned over the table eyes bulging out as he stood over Gareth, everyone could sense it.

A loud whoo’s from the jock’s table caused you to huff, before you knew it, Jason Carver was involved.

“Trouble in paradise?” He shouted, followed by the obnoxious laughter of his followers, they called Eddie the leader of a satanic cult but by the looks of it, Jason and his stupid little jocks fit the description more.

“Oh, shut it, Carver,” Your mouth opened before your mind could process it, heads turned toward you and you were afraid to look back up now.

The laughter from Jason’s table had died down, and you could feel plenty of eyes on you, but what mattered the most, you could feel Eddie’s burning gaze on you, the storm in his mind calming down with your tone.

Before you knew it everyone went into something else, Chrissy was quick to start a conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye that Dustin had probably took on the same job, spewing nonsense until the tension deviated.

Eddie had slumped into his seat now, thighs spread wide open while his leg fidgeted, his anger had dissipated—eyes trained on you again, it was so obvious now, even Chrissy was nudging you.

The conversation at the table was no longer interesting, he didn’t even attempt to care if Gareth was okay, you stood up to him in front of the entire school, so mindlessly that Eddie felt like a coward.

Guilt ran through his veins quicker than it intended to, Eddie knew he has been acting like an idiot, but you had opened his eyes further.

He knew he had to talk to you.

And once he saw you leaving the cafeteria alone, he knew it was now or never.

He barely waited right after you left, ignoring the voices from the table calling out for him as he waved them off, mumbling incoherently about how he had to take care of something.

You stopped when you heard his weighted footsteps, jogging after you as he called your name.

You were afraid to turn around, afraid to ask him what had happened that made him lash out at Gareth like that.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words that slipped past his almost trembling lips, his honey-brown eyes mellow.

“I said some really stupid things I shouldn’t have said,” were the words that followed, you could tell he meant it, ragged breath escaping with each word, he was nervous.

Your heart tightened in your chest, unable to open your mouth, you stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“I—I don’t need you to say anything,” He breathed again, and it’s not like you could get any words out now, they all died down in your throat.

“I just need you to trust me,” He murmured, calloused hands coming in contact with your shoulders as he held you steady, your legs feeling like jelly when he looked at you like that.

“W—with what?” You didn’t mean to stutter, but you couldn’t help it when he was standing this close to you, it didn’t matter if you had been dating for the last four months, you could tell something in him had changed, with the way he held you in public, your mind getting excited about the possibilities.

“I’m gonna fix this,” He pointed between the two of you, almost mimicking you from before.

“I’ll pick you up at 7, does that sound okay?” He gave you a warm smile, teeth flashing and dimples forming on the right side of his cheek, making you giggle immediately.

“O–okay,” You didn’t mean to sound so excited–almost desperate, but you could feel your insides twist with hope with each of his words, breaking down the guards you spent building up all these years.

He gave you a sloppy kiss on your cheek, his smile never wearing off, “See you after school, yea?” You nodded quickly, heat rising up on your cheeks.

By the time Eddie picked you up by your house, your chest tightened, the whole ride was more silent than usual, the stereo Eddie usually blasted now stayed as a background noise as you fidgeted in your seat.

“Are you ever gonna tell me where we are going? Or at least what we’re gonna do?” You asked curiously, head cocking to his side.

“So impatient,” He mocked, hands drumming on the steering wheel before he flashed you a smile.

“We’re almost there,” He announced, and the roads were becoming all too familiar to you now.

“Are we going to the trailer?” You asked excitedly, and Eddie threw you a look.

“You do know what surprises mean, don’t you?” He raised his brows and flashed a teasing smile, his eyes dancing with amusement.

You huffed playfully, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You do realize how cute you look when you get all mad like that?”

"Oh, stop it," you stammered, covering your face slightly with your hands, attempting to hide your embarrassment and the smile that threatened to betray you.

Eddie flashed a toothy-grin, dimples ever so present, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to.

Gaze lingered on his features longingly, as if trying to capture every detail in your memory. “Thank you for today,” He murmured, almost embarrassed, looking out on the road as his hands got clammy on the steering wheel.

You know exactly what he was thanking you for, but you still threw him a puzzled look.

“For standing up to Carver like that,” He adds, clearing his throat,

“I doubt you realize it Eddie but—”

“I think I’d pretty much do anything for you,” The words blurted out before you could process them, brain jumbled from everything that happened today.

A soft smile curved his lips as he watched you, eyes tracing every contour of your face with awe.

The rest of the ride was silent, as you kept your promise to not spoil the surprise, mind filled with various ideas as Eddie finally pulled up to his trailer.

"So... will you tell me the surprise now?" You asked, smile etching on your face as Eddie gave you a breathy laugh.

"Such an impatient baby, huh?" He mocked, nudging your shoulder playfully, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

As you caught up to him, he couldn't help but reach out to brush your hand with his fingertips, a subtle gesture of affection.

When he finally intertwined them, your heart raced, possibilities of whatever the surprise was overwhelming you as your palms grew sweaty with anxiety when you faced the daunting door to Eddie's trailer.

Eddie's fingers gripped the doorknob tightly, with a twist of the key in his hands, the lock mechanism turned, and he pushed the door open, revealing loud chattering coming from the room.

You got startled when Eddie fully opened the door, almost squealing when you saw all of the Hellfire Club squeezed into the living room, your eyes widening at Eddie's surprise.

It was silent before Gareth spoke up, “What kind of a sick joke is this supposed to be?” He chuckled bitterly, Eddie felt hot-blooded again.

“Is this why you defended her during lunch?” He chuckled, and your eyes widened at the revelation—so, that's why Eddie lashed out at lunch.

"Unfuckinbelievable," Gareth scoffed.

Eddie's jaw tightened, the muscles flexing with the strain of suppressing the overwhelming urge to lash out. “What the hell are you doing? Please tell me this is a new joke of yours called ‘I’m fucking the spoiled brat cheerleader to spite the jocks’.” Gareth spoke up, and turned around to Jeff and others for approval, but the rest of the guys just stood silent, he had crossed the line and everyone could sense it.

Your face soured at his comment, and you could feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tightened, he was getting fired up. “Goodbye, Gareth.” Eddie spoke calmly, much to your and everyone else’s surprise. Every movement he made was rigid, calculated, as if trying to contain the tempest of rage threatening to consume him.

Gareth turned to Eddie baffled, “What?” He scoffed, and Eddie gave a breathy chuckle before straightening up to collect himself. “Get out of my house.” Eddie spat with rage inside of him.

“You have a problem with, her, you leave.” You looked up at him softly as you gently squeezed his hand to let him know that it was okay, he didn’t need to make a scene, and he softened with your touch.

“Actually, if you have a problem with Y/N, you’re pretty much dead to me so just like…” He mocked a thinking face, “Evaporate or something, I don’t know.” A sarcastic smirk was plastered onto his lips now.

Everyone stood silent, causing Eddie to huff.

“That’s kind of a general invitation, if you don’t like my girlfriend then… just start heading toward the rectangle with the knob.” A wide smile spread across your face at him calling you 'his girlfriend', you leaned towards him almost, eager to soak in every word.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” Gareth spat out, Eddie rolled his tongue inside of his cheek at the comment, it looked like Gareth wasn't just going to go away silently, and Eddie wasn't sure if he could hold off the storm brewing inside of him if Gareth dared to talk about you again.

“Selling off your friends for a cheer slut—”

THUMP!

The sound that resonated in your ears before Gareth laid on the ground beneath you, it happened all so fast, Eddie's veins pulsating with the surging rage before his fists collided with Gareth's cheek.

Your mouth hung open, words trapped in your throat as your voice failed you in the face of disbelief.

Eddie cowered over him, the rest of the guys standing in shock as they tried to hold him back, they didn't need to, Eddie was done with Gareth.

“I told you to not fuckin' speak about her, was that not clear?” He spat out his words with seething anger. Gareth looked back at him with a groan.

“Then let this be a lesson for you.” He sneered.

It was all blurry, Gareth still groaning and mumbling under his breath as he left without a goodbye, the rest of the guys apologizing as they took care of Gareth, congratulating the two of you before he left to probably get that poor boy some ice.

“Well... I'd say that went pretty well?” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, and you giggled at Eddie's inability to defuse the tension in the room.

“'M so sorry...” You straightened your posture, lifting your head to meet Eddie's soft gaze.

“Are you kidding?” He asked, eyes glinting with admiration.

“I don't care about him,” He scoffed.

“He doesn't fucking get to talk about you like that, and he doesn't deserve to be in my life,” His firm stance and unwavering eye contact were signaling you that he meant every word he was saying, he got sick of Gareth's shit, that's why this had happened, not because of you.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, honey,” He muttered, pressing soft kisses into your hair, he was trying to relieve you of your guilt, telling you that this was all on Gareth.

He leaned slightly forward, subtly closing the distance between you and him. “Now see,” He muttered, “Why can't it just be like this?” He couldn't help but reach out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender as his fingers ached to touch you.

“Why do other people in the world have to exist, huh?” Every time he spoke to you, his voice took on a softer, almost more mellow tone, as if he was savoring the words to speak to you on his lips.

Your head tilted slightly with a giggle, eager to absorb every word he uttered. Each touch, each gaze you shared, sent an unwavering contentment through his entire being, more than you realized.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines #eddie munson x taylor swift #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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rzyraffek · 2 years ago

Note

I have a little smut request, if you don't like or don't want to write I understand that's alright.

When slashers are take a shower then S/O suddenly get in

Bo please must have him, I love this man too much, and Vincent, Lester, Brahms, Thomas, or other slashers you want to write. (or you think I pick too much you can pick some, but please Bo must thank you so much❤️)

I just think this will be fun

Oh, btw, I very love your work so perfect so wonderful so amazing❤️❤️❤️

Yall really love Sinclair's😭😭 ALSO THANK YOU V MUCH IM GLAD YALL ENJOY MY BLOG!!!! Before you read that I need to remind yall that I DONT USUALLY WRITE NSFW STUFF SO DONT EXPECT ANYTHING GREAT HERE!! Request open

Nsfw, but nothing too detailed, they/them pronouns for s/o

Shower zegz with slashers

Bo Sinclair

Our guy will make sure that they will remember that shower for long time

Yknow when you just vibe in shower and you accidently touch cold wall with your back and get all cold and upset? Yeah if s/o has the same problem.. too bad he doenst care they are getting pinned to that wall in seconds anyways

He loves seeing their face, how they react to his actions and words, how their body moves because of him

Will comment A LOT, expect a lot of praising, some cruse words and alot of growls tbh

He marks them 100% one way or another. Bite marks, Hickeys ( alot of them), ect

Afterwards he gonna bring them a towel and make sure they can go to bedroom and rest there for a while. This guy isn't the best at aftercare but he isn't heartless!

Vincent

No bcs he will blush sososo hard😨😳

Like they have to make first move cuz this guy will just stand there awkwardly looking like he has stick up his ass

He gonna be so gentle with them💖 carefully grabbing their hips/hair and enjoying the view moment

Tbh he loves grabbing their hair and vice versa, if s/o is touchy he gonna be sosos blushy

Also afterward he gonna wash their hair probably🥰 making sure they at least get out of this shower clean lol

Brahms Heelshire

Nah bcs this guy will be the one to actually pull them into shower, like s/o was just vibing doing their skincare routine and this guy just grabbed them and yeeted them into shower

He gonna act like he just wants to spent time together🙄🙄 yeah totally

Pls make sure that s/o calls him good boi or he gonna bite them

Also ngl he probably looks sexy asf with wet hair

Incredibly affectionate, yall will be extremely close to each other for the whole thing. And expect him to wisper and growl into s/o year

Thomas Hewitt

This babi will be soso confused??? Like???? Oh you wanna shower together?? Yeah sure ig I don't mind???

Again s/o has to do first move cuz he won't even think about asking them about that type of stuff! Hes a gentleman he would neverr.. unless they ask him ofc

S/o gonna forgor how to walk for few hours at least

He just gonna pick them up and pin them to wall like s/o weights nothing (tbh it doesnt really matter how much they weight this guy picked up adult men and whooped other one at the same time without any struggle, really dont worry)

He cant really tell them how he feels so he just gonna gently pat them or nuzzle them.

He will feel bad afterwards when their legs shake or when they can't really walk 😓

Micheal Myers

Tbh the only reason he showed was bcs they promised him that he will get reward later. Fr this guy stinks

Sex with him is incredibly akward. He doenst make any noise nor shows any kind of affection? Maybe he gonna carry them to bed afterwards or bring them towel?? Like this guy never heard about aftercare, or care overall tbh

He will never show it but he loves when s/o gives him affection or tells him nice words, how good he is and how great his doing his job rn

Not my proudest one! I really suck at nsfw stuff sorry😓😓 also I had nightmare and there was Bo for some reason ?? But he had heavy cowboy-texas accent ??? Idk why. Anyways its 2am yall have great rest of day

This post was made by asexual gang, like and subscribe to join asexual gang

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Note

Non con sex pollen fic where Joel and the reader are waken up in a random room together and he recognizes who you are because he used to be friends with ur dad , he starts begging the people who took them to let him out because the reader isn’t the only person that’s ended up in this situation with him, and then there’s smoke that enters the room but it only has an effect on Joel, if you even decide to turn this into anything can you add oral f receiving pls and do the smut however you want! I’ll love it either way <3 IM SO SORRY ITS ALOT

Lazaretto (sex pollen)

2.6k ONE SHOT / joel x afab!reader / master

Part 2 HERE

WARNINGS: non-con, sex pollen, manhandling, oral f receiving, unsafe P in V sex, anal, reader menstruates. poorly edited. Horror elements apparently lol idk how sex pollen is normally written. 18+

You wake up in a heavy-duty four-wall tent with a burly stranger, both of you in hospital gowns. You were sedated and you're still groggy when a man in a biohazard suit explains you’re being quarantined in a makeshift lazaretto outside the overcrowded army hospital. Neither of you were bitten in the chaos earlier, but it’s a precaution. You'll be monitored for 24 hours, treated with an antifungal fog, then monitored for another 24 hours before they release you. You sign a release about potential side effects which include psychological and sexual disturbances.

He doesn’t elaborate, but Joel is clearly disturbed as if it’s not his first time.

“No,” he says. “No!" He screams, then begs, "Let me out, or let her out, I don’t care.”

“I’m not authorized to let anyone out.”

“Then put me in my own tent!"

“I’m afraid we’re far past capacity. Most units have three.”

“Can you at least tie me up or somethin’?”

“I’m afraid not.”

"Then get me away from her!"

You're offended and confused. The quarantine man leaves. For a while, neither of you talk except to say some variation of, “this is bullshit.” Joel seems genuinely distressed. You have your own problems to worry about. You’re at the tail end of your period and don’t have any provisions, not even any underwear. You want to check and see if you’re still bleeding, but not with this stranger in the tent.

You ask him, “What are you so worried about?”

He starts to say something but stops himself and says, “I’ll tell you later.”

"What did I do?" You ask and your temples feel weak.

He recognizes how mean he must have sounded. "Nothing at all, sugar. It's me. I had. . . a bad reaction in the past."

He changes the subject and tells you he recognizes you. It hits you - Joel Miller - he used to run a smuggling route with your dad. Life has hardened Joel into a much stronger, more attractive man since then. He’s not a big talker, but he occasionally indulges your questions about pre-outbreak life. You start to really enjoy his company. For a minute at a time, you manage to forget about the scary circumstances.

There’s one old cot and a blanket. He says you can have them because he won’t be able to sleep anyway. You’re not comfortable but you manage to fall asleep. You wake up shivering and ask if he’ll join you. He hesitantly agrees, then settles in behind you. You grab his hand and hold it tight. You’re gushing between the legs. You expect a nice red spot on both your gowns in the morning, but that should be the least of your worries.

“Do you think we’re okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” he replies softly in your ear.

You start sniffling. “I’m scared.”

He tightens his arm over you. “I know, sugar. You’re gonna be alright. We’re alright.” You can hear his heart beating faster.

As you drift off to sleep, it’s impossible not to notice through your gowns when his dick hardens against you. He backs off a little but you push your ass back into him and tighten your grip on his hand. His chest swells against your back and you feel him inhale your hair, but he doesn't make a move and neither do you.

When you wake up, he’s lying on his stomach on the floor using his massive bicep as a pillow. Before he notices you’re awake, you subtly dip your finger into youreslf to check for your period, and it’s not there. You were just wet. You sit up and look at the back of your gown. Nothing. When he sees you’re awake and sits up, the fear returns to his eyes. He says, “I reckon the fog will come soon, now.” There’s no clock, but he senses it. He moves his jaw side to side anxiously and his eyes dart around the tent.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He opens his mouth several times then stops before he manages to say it. “Look, if. . . If I do anything after they fog us. . . it’s not me, okay?"

"Okay. . .do anything like what?"

"It . . . The fog has an effect on certain people." He swallows and looks away. "Like a sexual effect. It can make you . . . Aggressive."

"Oh. . ."

"Listen. You can fight me off, do whatever you have to do, okay?"

"Okay."

Your heart beats faster wondering what's in store. You can’t imagine it’s that bad.

Finally, one side of the tent ripples as a small, circular portal is opened and something clicks into it. The tent begins to fill with fog. The fog smells faintly like a thunderstorm and settles toward the ground before it slowly rises. Joel backs away from it, sitting in the very corner of the tent as it spreads across the floor. As the fog continues to pour in, he stands up and turns his face toward the ceiling. But it reaches him. He tries not to breathe it, with his mouth in his gown, but it’s no use. He squats down, facing away from you.

He swallows. “I’m sorry.” His voice is shaky. He looks back at you one last time apologetically, then pinches his eyes shut and takes deep breaths. The fog valve is shut. For a few minutes, you can hardly see him.

You hear the sticky footsteps of his bare feet on the floor, then he gets close enough to see him through the fog, just a few feet away from you. His whole face has darkened. And it further darkens as he looks at you in a trance. He wets his lips like you’re something to eat. His chest rises and falls with heaving breaths.

Minutes ago, it was hard to imagine being afraid of him, but he’s a whole different man now. You get up from the cot, walk backwards to the opposite side of the tent, and sit in the corner.

He crosses the tent in two long, swift strides. As he looms over you, it’s impossible to ignore the massive tent in his gown or his muscular thighs.

“Get up,” he demands through the fading fog. You look down and stay where you are, pulling your gown over your knees, shrinking into yourself.

“GET UP NOW!” he yells with his mouth wide open, face red, hair bouncing.

You still don’t.

"I’m sorry,” he says, then darkens again. “But you're askin' for it.” He squats down and gently cups your face. “Get up.”

You don’t. “You don’t want to do this.” A last ditch effort: “I have my period!” But it only makes him more feral. You see it in his face right after you say it.

Joel grabs you roughly by both elbows and manhandles you to your feet, then pushes you over to the cot. He tears your gown off and throws you down on the cot face-up. He scans you head to toe. You futilely try to cover yourself with your arms and hands. You’d feel even more naked without the fog though, which still hangs in the air. You start to sit up and he forces you back down, pinning you with an arm across your chest. "Starving,” he growls in your ear, giving you butterflies. He grabs your hand off your pussy then shoves his own between your legs and the butterflies swarm to your core. You try and fail to keep your legs shut tight but the pressure of your thighs around his hand feels far too good between your legs.

“Joel, stop,” you plead. “You’re not yourself.” You beg him to stop, but you're getting wetter by the minute. His intensity turns you on.

“No use, darlin’.” He inserts his middle finger and breathes heavily. “Nothin’s stoppin’ this."

You still try, though. You thrash and kick, then he grabs you by the arms so hard his fingers dig deep into your muscles, practically to the bone. “Sit still, damnit.” He softens only for a moment. “Don't wanna have to hurt you.” Then he darkens again.

Your face gets cold and you swallow. He kneels at the foot of the cot and uses your thighs to violently yank you toward him so your ass is at the end. He pries your legs open and holds them that way with his massive hands. His mouth latches onto your pussy and you’re flooded with a rush of arousal as the hook of his nose begins to massage your clit. He really digs in, pressing his lips hard into you, thrusting his tongue inside you. A ball of tension gathers in your traitorous core and you twitch.

He’s grunting “Mm” as he sucks and laps. You squirm and he forces you still again and continues, ravenous to consume you. He looks up with black eyes, and the animal between your legs terrifies you. He intensifies his eating and you feel it coming. The next time he thrusts his tongue inside you, his nose drags up your clit. You moan and your spine arches as you see stars. He stops and watches you unravel with his head still firmly planted between your legs. Your eyes water with your pulsations as you stare up at the ceiling of the tent. He lifts his head and a lighter patch of his beard is just barely tinged with your period. He dug it out of you. He inserts his fingers and you clench around him with the aftershocks. You close your eyes and catch your breath.

He must stand up, because before you know it, you feel his tip at your entrance. Your body wants him inside you. You could make it easy on him, but you don’t want him to fuck you and regret it. It’s not just your body – you’re realizing you want him, too. You may be getting ahead of yourself, but it’s the product of a near-death experience, of being sealed in a tent with him for 24 hours, and of getting head within an inch of your life. The perfect storm. If you’re going to have him, it has to be under different circumstances or he may never want to do it again.

He begins to push in.

“Joel, no!” You squirm and thrash.

He sighs. “You're just gonna tucker yourself out like that.”

You still give it your best try, but he’s right. You’re no match for his strength. He overpowers you, pins you down with his weight, then shoves his thick cock into you with a grunt. Your wet little hole can hardly take him. You yelp as his unforgiving girth splits you open and fills you up. When his length retreats, you try to push him off, but you can’t. “You’re takin' it one way or another, darlin’.”

He bottoms out with a guttural roar like he’s charging into battle. He pounds you brutally, slamming to the hilt each time. It hurts but it isn’t long before it starts to feel okay, then good, and then, the delicious stretch of his girth feels like something you never knew you needed. After a minute or two, you stop squirming and thrashing. It's happening, and you might as well enjoy it.

When you stop fighting, he takes his weight off you and stands at the foot of the cot, your thighs in his hands, pulling you back on his dick as his hips snap into you. His hair is messy and his face and neck are splotched red. His big arms bulge out from under the gown. You’ve never seen such intensity on anyone’s face before.

After a few minutes of him pistoning into you, you feel another climax building. You whimper and he rails you even harder, sweating, grunting, growling. When you come, it’s a burst unlike anything you've ever felt. You hear yourself wailing as he fucks you through it. Your walls are still contracting around his cock when he grabs onto your hips for dear life and plunges into you with more force than ever.

You realize he’s going to come inside and yell, “No!” You try to get away. You try to fight back, but he’s too strong and determined. Rage falls across his face. A groan rips out of his throat as his cock erupts into you, pulsing massively, extending your climax longer than you thought possible. It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before.

Your whole body is spent. When he’s finished coming, he slides out of you and you lie there limp with your eyes closed. It’s quiet for a minute. The fog has settled more.

He groans softly. Then, "I'm sorry. . ." You open your eyes and sit up. You reach for him at the foot of the cot, but he backs away. It seems like he can't look at you. His eyes are tearful.

"It's okay. Look at me, Joel. It's okay."

It's quiet for a minute.

"God damnit,” he whispers. He covers himself and when your eyes follow his hand, it’s clear he’s hard again or it never went away. The fog has faded enough that it seems he at least has the wherewithal to jack off instead. "Close your eyes," he says as he turns away and wraps his hand around his cock. You study his eyes and they’re dark, but not as dark as they were. You lie down with your eyes shut and listen to his breath and the squish of his hand around his cock, wet with your slick.

The rhythmic squish gets closer and closer. You open your eyes to the darkest look on his face. He’s standing there at the foot of the cot, gown pushed up out of the way again as he strokes his stiff, imposing cock.

“Flip over,” he demands but gives you no time to comply. He grabs you under the arms.

“Okay, okay,” you comply and he forces you down on your stomach.

He wedges the tip of his cock between your cheeks, aligning himself at your asshole. You’re terrified. You beg, "no, wait," but he's not there anymore. It's not really him.

He plunges into your tight, virgin hole and you yelp in shock. His hands on your hips lift your ass in the air and you bury your head in your arm, biting your own skin as he yanks you back into him, making your ass flush with his pelvis. You’re stuffed full of him, fuller than you’ve ever felt, even fuller than when he was in your pussy.

He pummels you with abandon and your eyes well up in tears. You're mortified, you've never done this before, and you have so many fears – is he going to ruin you? Is there going to be a mess? But each time he buries his length in your ass, it feels better and your fears fade into pleasure. The longer he pounds you, the better it feels. It feels surprisingly good, much better than you ever thought it would. The tent seems to echo with his grunts and the slap of skin.

Another orgasm is brewing as he pounds your guts. It builds faster this time. He grunts louder, then your whole body is seized by the deepest, most powerful climax. You whimper, then your whimper turns into a groan as your ass spasms and your pussy clenches around nothing.

And then he pulses inside you, filling up another hole. By the time he's through with you, you're filled to the brim with him. He slides out and you turn around.

He stumbles backwards in horror at what he's done.

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m so sorry."

Part 2 HERE

Thank you for reading and engaging! Might wanna follow me if you like this because my posts are getting reported and might not show up in the tags.

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro

#joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #dark!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#tw: noncon #pedro pascal fic #dark!joel #horny!joel miller #horny!joel #sex pollen #lazaretto #content label

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pygmi-cygni · 10 days ago

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pygmi you have consumed me w that pervy steven thing …

it’s one of my favorite hcs, that he’s just a secret freak

if you’d be okay with it, can you pls write more for him 🥺 it can be anything you want ily v dearly

ok :)

cw: recording, consensual relationship, kind of a weird format, pussy eating king Steven, marc interlude, oral both ways, heavy praise kink

Steven, literally, cannot function without an action/reward system. He will not. So with careful consideration, you've decided to give him a weekly "day" that he can relax and do whatever he wants.

tldr: he's a spoiled little bitch.

And his favorite reward...

He'd been lapping at your folds for some time now, lazily perusing the silken petals with the casualty of browsing the fiction shelf. You were laid back, letting the orgasms hit you as they came. Nobody was in a particular rush; the TV was laying in the background, a cup of water nearby, some snacks, and Steven could just sit and do his favorite thing as long as he wanted to.

sometimes that 'day' turned into two days. He's never been good at time management, and have you ever tried pushing off a pussydrunk Steven? No you have not, because it's impossible.

Sleep came quicky for him. His lips were still attached to your clit, suckling lightly as he slept. Every once in a while he'd latch on particularly hard, jolting you from your dozing. Your protesting whines fell on deaf ears as he snuggled closer, fingers kneading into your thighs.

Those rewards were special, and you had to cap a limit. Or else it would be on sight, and nothing would ever get done. Marc constantly complained about how much you were spoiling Steven, the little pervert, so much so that he almost didn't want to work at all.

So, you compromised.

Steven was a champ at eating you out. One of his favorite parts was the ample praise you'd lavish over him at every stroke of his tongue. It made him harder than he thought possible.

Ever the little exhibitionist, he decided to set up an audio recorder. Whenever you saw the little red light blinking, you'd moan louder, rock harder, and leak praise like a faucet.

"Unh...St-Steven, fuck..." the rustle of his hair being gripped by your fingers as he sucked the life out of you, moaning into your plush, pink mess. The recorder was high quality; every little sound amplified. Even your little mewls that made his heart stir and his cock twitch were audible over the obscene smacking and slurping of Steven's mouth. "Good boy, Steven...Doin' good, baby, o-oh..."

Steven cherished those tapes, and nobody was allowed to touch them. He waited till Marc was out to put them away, so he was the only one who knew where they were.

If he's feeling a little dirtier than usual, he'll record you sucking him off. The wet, loud, moaning mess of you and the sound of him ruining you sends shivers down his back.

He can see it. You, on your knees, his thick length pistoning into your soft mouth. Mascara tears and those shining, lovestruck eyes. The track whirrs, grunts and moans crackling in the silence. The wet slick of your tongue dragging against his length as you clutch his thighs for dear life. Steven inhales sharply, palming himself through his jeans. God, what a little minx...

And....you never said he couldn't do anything with them. So....if he's having a bad day at work? That little MP3 player he found in Jake's car hooks up nicely to a pair of earbuds...

Is that classical music he's listening to on the bus?

No.

No, it is not.

tags!

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love

@unear7hly @chaithetics @ominoose @buckyssugarchick

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanons #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant smut #moonknight #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #marc spector #smut #asks open #anon request

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trashmouth-richie · 8 months ago

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pretty sure my thumbs have never typed so fast in my life when i got this prompt from @fishwithtitz

prompt was eddie x you smut + an image saying “you’ve been poisoned” at the bottom of a cup of coffee— i tweaked this a bit

18+ minors go away, smut! anal! biting, squirting, no condoms (don’t do this in real life unless you want a baby and can provide for one) a-to-v (also don’t do this unless you want a coochie infection) this is fanfic so pls keep that in mind, another secret gross thing that happens at the end. voyeurism! (kinda) eddie fucks, like reaaallly fucks.

<800k / eddie x fem reader

“fuck.”

The windows were streaked. Sweaty handprints pressed into the cold glass, telling a story to anyone walking past just exactly what was taking place behind the locked doors of the car.

The leather jacket you had peeled off of his shoulders laid on the floor along with one of your broken heels (the other— shoved stiletto first into the vent) along with shreds of ripped black pantyhose.

You sucked the ring on his lip into your mouth with a shaky moan, the heat from your mouth sending his tongue into a frenzy— making his hips thrust into your ass with such force you nearly hit the windshield.

Facing away from him, hands holding steady onto the dash, your fingernails scrape down the vinyl in long strokes as your tight ass bobs up and down his length.

“nasty girl,” he breathes into your ear, “fucking knew it the minute I saw you.”

Tonight was Rick’s birthday party, and when your friends had begged you to come out, you finally agreed.

Angling your neck to the moonlight he holds your necklace close to your throat in an all too smooth motion so it was gathered in his fist.

The marks he had sucked into your neck were already raised, and he smirked as he bit into your shoulder.

“Your boyfriend gonna care if you go home with these?”

Whining at the pleasuring pressure of his cock stuffed tight where nobody else has been, you rub a small circle into your clit, inserting your own manicured finger into your cunt.

“What boyfriend?” you panted out, playing coy.

He tweezed one of your nipples between his thick fingers, twisting until you yelped out.

“Oh baby, ‘m fuckin’ you dumb huh?”

Mewling in response he drives into you harder, faster, joining your hand on your clit until your release sprays over the dashboard. Cries spilling out of you and the sweet taste of tears ruining your makeup. He coaxes you on, cheering you like you’re a varsity lettermen.

Flipping you around so you’re facing him, he licks up your tears, shoving you forward into your own mess—your back slick with it.

He laughs a mocking chuckle at the sight of you, wrecked because of him. No time is wasted before he splits your pussy open, grunting when your eyes practically cross, knowing he’s bigger than the limp dick you’d been fucking until tonight, until him.

“If you don’t have a boyfriend— who’s car is this?”

You smile a wicked grin, telling him between gasps and his choked grunts.

“Perfect.”

—

He zips up his jeans— door to the car open as he tucks a lock of his hair behind his ear, looking for his shirt, a cigarette between his teeth.

Standing barefoot on the concrete, you’re no longer wearing the shoes or pantyhose you wore to the party you try smudging your eye makeup to make it look decent in the closed back window, when he speaks.

“I— yeah, I really hope you’re not expecting me to whisk you away to a fucking castle or some sh—”

You laugh light heartedly, “Eddie— trust me, I know.”

He shoves his head through the hole of his shirt, planting heavy boots on the ground before he stands taller than you, a devils smirk on his lips.

“Dating really isn’t my thing, but y’ might be more of a freak than I am, sugar.”

You both smile, standing awkward in post sex bliss.

“See ya ‘round?” you ask leaning into him, pressing your chest into the crisp white of his shirt before pressing a small kiss to his neck, leaving before his hands could hold the small of your back.

“Yeah, definitely,” he looks down wiping the cheesy grin from his face before calling after your leaving frame, “hit me up whenever you wanna fuck in Hargrove’s car again.”

—

That night at Rick’s, Billy was brought a beer by a pretty girl with smudged makeup, bare feet— a weird little smile on her face before she leaned into him, telling him, “drink up, handsome”.

The beer tasted different but he was already so sauced he didn’t notice.

He also didn’t notice a white milky substance at the bottom of the cup, or a message in writing that looked similar to the graffiti in the bathroom stalls at the Hideout.

Devil horns surrounded the scrawled message:

“How do I taste big boy?”

—

pls consider reblogging or commenting! it means so much to writers 🖤

hope you enjoyed the feral-ness ❤️‍🔥

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie blurbs #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fucks

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prncssie · 1 year ago

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STRAWBERRY MERINGUE

caution! mdni 6k wrdz, hobie smokes weed, you’re drunk n contact high, you get it blown in your face, exhibitionism, kinda voyeurism, use of the word nigga, use of the word pussy and cunt, public sex, fingering f. receiving, oral m. receiving, sharing of cum, degradation barely ( use of the word bitch and slut once), choking but not really, brat taming if you squint, unprotected sex, pull out method, lmk if i missed anything! pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

hobie takes a long drawl of the blunt between his lips. his eyes are half lidded and his head is tilted back. in the dim lighting, you can barely tell his scleras are red but they are, pupils low and moving slow across the scenery.

he’s careful, knowing that you hate the smell. he doesn’t get it, though. you grumble every time he sparks up, claiming the smell reminds you of body odor, until you’re intoxicated yourself.

tonight, you’re indulging a bit, drunk off mixed liquors so you don’t mind. it’s the last thing you’re thinking about when he sits up and slots his mouth over yours. he blows the smoke into you, ending with a sloppy kiss.

you don’t smoke, or at least that’s what you claim. in a way, you don’t, never actually putting the paper to your lips. you just steal whatever hobie gives you because in your pretty, little head, it’s somehow better.

your body feels heavy. you’re so crossed, not thinking about how you’re tonguing hobie down in front of his friends. they’re not paying you much attention, either. this isn’t surprising, not with the explicit details hobie sometimes shares. it happens every party anyway. as long as you are both intoxicated, you’re unable to keep your hands off each other.

you mewl when he adjusts you in his lap, one hand on your back to draw you forward. your eyes flutter and your hands run over the navy blue mesh of his top. his tongue piercing is warm and bumping against the roof of your mouth.

you’re straddling his lap, standing out in the group of punks with your sparkly pink tank top and denim miniskirt. underneath you, hobie is your opposite in low waisted jeans, distressed and dark. his chains are layered and occasionally clink against each other when he moves.

you’re so in love with him and his little v line, peeking through the sliver of skin visible. you’re too greedy, grinding against his studded belt. the rhinestones don’t bump and graze your sensitive parts enough.

“mm mm,” he hums against your lips. “not here.” he kisses your cheek and creates just a bit of space between you in an attempt to keep you settled. his heart swells at the adorable disappointment in your eyes but he knows better than to comment on it. you like to villainize whatever you can to get your way and he doesn’t want to deal with you the way he usually does right here with everyone’s somewhat watchful eyes.

you sulk when he grins. he only tunes you out and takes another huff of the rolled blunt. “you jealous?” he chuckles at the expression riri, one of his bandmates, sports.

her face is contorted in disgust, being the unfortunate one to catch you two at the wrong time. “no, you’re just gross. i’ve never seen a couple so all over each other than you.”

hobie merely raises his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “i told you she was coming. you knew what that meant.” he exhales the smoke in your face again, mockingly sneering at his friend when you welcome it.

you barely hear their conversation between the insatiable throbbing in your core and the need to get inside hobie’s skin. you cling on to him and rest your head in the crook of his neck. he rubs your side while you mindlessly litter dark purple hickies along his collar. his hands come up to graze your arm.

it’s his party, or rather, their party. in celebration, his band decided to have a small get together to celebrate the release of their mixtape. it was supposed to be small. now it’s turned into a house party with the amount of plus ones in attendance.

the music causes a buzz in your bloodstream. you’re delirious and horny out of your mind. somewhere down the line, you made the conscious decision to down a hefty amount of casamigos and now you’re dealing with the consequences. “ ‘bie,” you snivel. you take his hand and guide it in between your bodies until his fingers are over the growing and slightly damp spot over your panties. you pant when he applies pressure, swiping aimlessly back and forth.

the dull ache in your stomach is heightened because of his toying. your drunken mind has you trying to push down on him, only for him to remove his hand with a click of his tongue. “i told you not here. gonna have to wait, pretty girl.”

hobie can’t tell if he’s seeing things when your lips tremble. he squints, both trying to examine the details through the haze and deter you from throwing a tantrum. you’re already halfway there, assuming he doesn’t care about what you want. you’re just about to give him a piece of your mind when you’re interrupted, timed perfectly.

“hey hobes?”

both your heads turn, spotting another band member stood to the side.

karl looks untroubled as he crashes somewhere on the couch. he hums as he gets comfortable, eyes scanning the crowd with a mischievous smile. “won’t believe what i gotta tell you.

“yeah?” hobie dangles one long arm off the back of the couch. he rests his head on his shoulder. the action both distracts and reminds you of your mission to decorate him in love bites.

you’re unaware of how karl turns, nodding his head in your direction. “some fucker wants to get to know your girl. saw us walking around and thought we were cool, thinks I can make something happen.”

you remain unaware still. the words don’t click in your head, no matter that hobie is speaking right here with you in his lap.

“oh?” he laughs a bit at the thought. it doesn’t bother him and happens more frequently than one would think. he’s gotten used to their gross antics but he doesn’t feel jealous. no, he’s pleased. pleased that someone else can recognize that he’s got the best girl. “hear that, princess? got a second boyfriend.” his eyes are downcast and on you.

you’re too dazed and busy to listen, covering every part of his skin until there is no space left. “don’t care,” you murmur. you’re not sure what you’re uncaring towards but it doesn’t matter. not when there are more important tasks to deal with.

hobie pulls you up by the neckline. he’s not shocked when you’re already glaring at him, convinced that, at this point, he’s torturing you. “you should. it’s rude to not speak to someone, you know.”

you feel so incredibly petulant beyond words. you blow a short breath through your nose. it takes you a second to find it, find your tone and patience. unfortunately, you can’t. “huh?” you snap.

fortunately, hobie doesn’t care. “you got a valentine or whatever the fuck. should go to talk to him.”

you know it’s not really a request.

it’s a game you both play, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see. as much as you hate being ripped away from him at times like this, you enjoy the game, too. it usually ends all hot and heavy, just how you like it.

before you’re standing he holds up a finger to karl, motioning the man to wait. hobie brings the blunt to his lip and immediately shotguns it into yours. he’s nasty about it, a hand groping your ass and rolling your hips down into his.

“jesus christ,” karl mutters. his face is scrunched up and even if the dark lighting, you can tell his cheeks are firetruck red.

yeah, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see.

you grin, patting karl’s shoulder as you stand. admittedly, you stumble a bit. your balance is all fucked up and you probably aren’t making the best decisions. “this will be you one day, bud.”

karl takes your hand in his. he can already tell you won’t be able to make it across the room without aid. you probably haven’t stood up since you sat down, too busy damn near dry humping hobie. “gee, i can only hope.”

hobie sighs, a deep rumble spreads in his chest. “not a scratch, karl.” he takes his eyes over you from head to toe, as slow as he can afford. they starting at your heels, up to the buns on either side of your head.

“we’re gonna go pimp her out, not to war.” the other rolls his eyes, trading his hand in yours to your elbow, both for more support and because he doesn’t know where you put it.

you both begin your trek around the quite spacious living room. you don’t know where you’re going and occasionally, you’re tripping over yourself. it’s not all that bad. most of the fault is because you decided to wear heels and even though they were thick and blocky, it didn’t do much in your current state.

your ankle wobbles and karl has to yank you upright. he doesn’t know how you haven’t injured yourself by now. maybe you are going to war, but with yourself. “what the hell? how much did you drink?”

you giggle with a shake of your head. “didn’t count. it’s fine! ‘m not blacked, just tipsy, maybe. oh and a little high.” you’re really not that far under the influence, you think. most of the influence is pure lust and when it’s subtracted from the occasion, you’re all bubbly.

karl looks over your shoulder. his attention is behind you and you see him wave someone over. “yeah well, try not to bust your ass. i’m calling that guy over now. his name is fuckin’ max or something like that.”

you completely forgot that’s what you came over for. it’s only been a few steps but between your bumbling and laughter, it slipped your mind. “oh. are you gonna stick around?”

“hell no,” karl sucks in his breath. his face twists and he points in pinky at hobie. “i don’t wanna be here when he gets up. you two are bad enough when you’re calm.”

sure enough, he’s still watching with a clear view from the couch in the corner. he lifts his fingers and wiggles them in a wave. you lick your lips at the sight of his hands. your pussy throbs at the thought of them pushing deep inside you.

“yeah, i’m out.” karl waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “i’ll be around if you need me. just call, i’ll hear you.” he doesn’t want to experience what you freaks are about to get into but he also doesn’t want to leave you here, faded with a man you don’t know.

he waits until the trade off happens and you’re left semi alone. you’re not exactly shy but nothing comes to mind. you’re uninterested, having already committing yourself to another. “max?”

“mark,” he says. he doesn’t look like anything interesting. sagging his jeans and wearing an ill fitting shirt. definitely not your type. if you lost him in a crowd, he’d disappear. his first mistake would be losing you in the first place.

however, if you want to be tossed onto the nearest surface, you have to push through it. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” you flash a smile. you rock back on your feet, only to trip over yourself. without karl holding you up, you find yourself grasping for balance. an honest giggle leaves your lips at your clumsiness but it’s mistaken for delight.

mark’s hands grab at your waist and your first thought is how they don’t compare. they’re much smaller and he definitely isn’t handling you with care. you have to remind yourself not to frown when you’re jostled back onto your feet. “havin’ a lot of fun tonight? your nigga didn’t stop you?”

you can’t stop looking at his hand still holding on to you. if you weren’t turned off by his appearance, you are now with his lack of awareness. you make an excuse to bump his hand off when you “adjust” the top of your shirt. “who, karl? karl and i are not . . . definitely not.”

in mark’s head, this means you don’t have one. even if you did, there’s much doubt he’d care. “so what? you don’t have one then. you want one?”

“um . . .” you flick your eyes over to hobie. you know he’s still watching and knows it’s a universal sign that you can’t take anymore of this. “i do have one. just not him so . . .” you gather your hands together and curl them into each other.

“you can’t have friends? we don’t gotta do nothin’, just chill.” he speaks with his hands. they’re waving all in the air and smacking against each other. typically it wouldn’t annoy you but you really just don’t like this guy. “i mean, you don’t gotta tell him. he ain’t gonna go shit, anyway.”

you scoff to yourself. before you have a chance to defend your lanky little stick bug, a familiar presence subtly appears at your side.

you turn to him before he’s even looking at you.

his hand is on your cheek, gingerly. hobie isn’t glaring, nor is he smug but there’s something about him. as if he knows something mark doesn’t. and he does. he knows mark doesn’t stand a chance, knows he’s going to be upset someone like hobie has you wrapped around his finger. he knows he’s not going like the way he dresses and talks. he’s going to go off to his friends and call hobie a bitch and whatever other caveman words he can think of.

that’s exactly why he doesn’t stand a chance.

“made a new friend?” hobie finally looks at you. his gaze softens immediately and he moves forward to kiss your lips.

“something like that.” you sigh sweetly. even with your shoes, you don’t compare to his height. you have to pull yourself up. your aim is to deepen the kiss, biting his bottom lip when he doesn’t oblige.

hobie only pats your butt and you pout. “thanks for comin’, man. we really appreciate it.” he doesn’t offer any sign of respect. it won’t be returned. call him mean, say he’s stereotyping, but he has enough experience to know when someone will appreciate his presence and when someone won’t.

mark grimaces. he gives hobie a once over, obviously not happy with what he’s seeing. “this is your thing? shit. if i knew that, i wouldn’t have came.”

you feel something vile bubbling up in your throat. your stomach churns at his words. how dare he? he looks like every other person in the room, in this place that hobie pays for, and insults him like he’s worth something.

“well, it’s a good thing i told you then, huh? leave if you want to. have a good night.” hobie speaks before you do. he wraps his arm around your shoulder and slots his hand over your mouth. knowing your temper, he doesn’t need you making anything worse.

you both watch him stalk off in two different moods. hobie is just as calm as ever. he lets his aggression roll of his back like nothing. meanwhile, you’re grumbling about what a terrible person he is, how you don’t like him and anything you stands for.

“dumb bitch. that’s why you’re weird and bitchless.” you’re more upset he ruined the way things are supposed to go. hobie is supposed to take you in his arms and fluster both you and the third person. instead, you end up grumpy.

hobie chuckles. he massages your shoulder, adoringly watching you go on and on about how he sucks. “yeah? what’d he say to you?”

the thought alone has you groaning and going on another spiel. “he asked if you let me ‘have friends’ and ‘i don’t have to tell you’.” you crinkle your nose. as if you’d ever cheat and lie about it, or lie about anything at all. there’s no secrets in between you two and if there is any ever hesitation, it comes out eventually when the other person is ready. you can’t imagine keeping anything from him with ill intent. “you should have clocked him in the jaw,” you pivot and face him. you’re extra careful not to do it too fast and wrap your arms around his thin waist.

“while you’re standing right here? not gonna do that.” he hooks his hands under your arms and lifts you onto his waist. “you get hurt and i’ll blow this whole place up.”

with your little skirt, half your ass is out. you squeal, a hand going down to maintain as much modesty as you can. hobie is no help. he doesn’t care. his freak ass wants someone to see. getting rid of one person doesn’t mean everyone else’s eyes are no longer wandering.

he takes you back over to your original resting spot without struggle despite your wiggling and complaining that he isn’t doing anything to help you. he plops back down back, smirking when you’re bouncing from the impact. your hands fly to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“you’re done smoking?” you look around the group and don’t see a blunt in sight. it’s surprising from them, considering they always pass around multiple in rotation every night. you were only gone for a few minutes.

“i am. they’re not.” hobie pulls the strap of your top up. it’s fallen and despite the view of your tits he got, he didn’t particularly want everyone else to see them. not yet, at least.

he runs his hands along the tops of your thighs, straddling him. his thumb dips dangerously on the inner and dig into your bikini line when they run high.

you draw a breath, zeroing in on the action. “oh. why?” you can’t hear him when the need comes crashing back, just as strongly as it did before. you were under the impression this wouldn’t be happening and had no idea he planned on doing it here.

hobie likes you like this. he can never really describe it but you melt so easily. one touch, one graze of his fingertips and you’re all soft. it’s nice you can keep up with his libido but it’s even better when he can keep up with yours. “ ‘cause i don’t want to. why do you think?”

you don’t know what to think right now. not when his thumb grazes over your clit so slowly. it’s always you who’s so worked up while he’s so lax.

you rut against him, lip tucked under your teeth. you don’t know where to put your hands without making it obvious. he’s occupying the space in your lap and you wouldn’t dare clench the front of his shirt.

you settle for behind you, resting on your calves. in hindsight, it has the opposite effect but you’re all dizzy. you pant when he rolls the bud under his pads of his finger. you’re simultaneously regretting and rejoicing in the fact that you decided to wear a thong for the outfit. it’s thin and does nothing to dull the feeling.

a hand reaches into your peripheral. you can see the rolled smoke in between it’s fingers but you can’t be bothered to look over and see who it belongs to.

“thanks,” hobie acknowledges it. he leans into it to take his puff and tilts his head back. the remnants are released in the air rather than your face. the smell mixes with his cologne, musky and woodsy. you wouldn’t like it any other time but now. now, any part of him makes your pussy wet.

“thought you weren’t smoking,” you tilt your hips up and further into his hand.

he lets you, wanting you to become as unnerved as possible. “i wasn’t, then. i am, now.” his attention flicks down to your crotch. hobie wishes the lighting is a little better. he can’t see anything like this. sure, he can see his actions but he can’t see the effect it has on you. he can feel the damp spot when his fingers drift too far down and push into you as far as your underwear will allow.

you squirm, tempted to tug it to the side yourself. you can’t breathe under the pressure of need. how much longer is he going to delay this?

“stop movin’,” he squeezes your hip. “i let you act like act like a bitch in heat for a second but now you’re gettin’ greedy.” he doesn’t usually speak to you like this but when he does, it has you gushing. you keen while your head hangs low.

you clench your hands into fists and screw your eyes shut. “sorry.” you say while giving him your best attempt to sit still.

“and look at me. i’m playing with your cute little pussy. the least you can do is look at me.”

you shake your head in refusal but make eye contact with him, anyway. you’re shy, not because he’s toying with you, but because he’s toying with you in front of his friends, in front of everyone here.

“there you go,” he quietly praises you just under his breath, “there she is.” hobie nudges his way against you, nose poking at your neck. “it’s too bad i can’t suck on it till you’re creaming.”

you jump, your shoulder meeting your ear. it’s unintentional, following the way his breath tickles your skin. “don’t say that,” your voice is all watery.

he pulls the your baby blue panties to the side and sucks his teeth. his eyes are rolling at your words. “don’t say that? i have my fingers deep inside you and you’re telling me not to say that?”

“you don’t – ”

your body falls forward when it happens, when hobie plunges in his fingers without warning. your mouth drops open, knees digging into his side when your legs attempt to close. “ohh,” it leaves your mouth long and drawn out. the sudden stretch of his pointer and middle finger makes your body curl.

“someone just sold me these shrooms.”

you hear the crinkle of a bag somewhere nearby and the sound only gets louder. you can assume it’s being passed around but your blood is pumping in your ears. you breathe heavily, mindlessly sinking your teeth into his shoulder.

“i’d let you hold ‘em, hobes, but . . .”

his body shakes underneath you when he laughs lightly. his fingers don’t stop their incessant movements, stroking your walls. “all good. how much did you pay?”

you writhe when hobie digs into your spot, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit. you can feel a small stream of drool pooling out of your cheek. it’s more so with how chaotic you are, tongue and teeth relishing at his neck.

you feel a heavy arm stilling you against him despite your struggle.

“don’t mind her. she’s just being a baby ‘bout it.” he doesn’t apologize for his explicit acts. he apologizes for your distracting reactions, for your quiet moans. it unnerves you.

here you are, worked up and dripping in front of your boyfriend’s friends. they’re so casual about it and as much as you hate to remember, they’re not wrong to be. hobie gets off on this and by default, you do too.

“is she a baby or are you an absolute ass?”

“you’re gonna irritate me and i’m gonna take it out on her.” his lips is upturned and lazy. “so how much did you pay for it?”

you don’t care to listen to the rest of the conversation. you’re very obviously grinding downward to feel him deeper and it only results in you tightening around him with a gasp. you’re weakly tugging his face until he’s turned around.

he’s not exactly thrilled to be interrupted from his conversation but he takes pity and gives in. your lip connect, tongues immediately tangling with each other. your saliva mixes and he sucks on your tongue to satiate you. on occasion, your teeth bump and crash against each other but it doesn’t discourage you. you only lean into it.

his fingers increase their pace and he ignores the cramp in his wrists. he juts his fingers against the spot that has you digging your nails into him.

this is so surreal. you and your friends always like fun at the people who get off at your college parties. you’ve told hobie the stories in the past but he seemed disinterested. now, you’re those people at those parties and it doesn’t sound as bad.

“you cummin’?” he whispers to you and you alone. he prefers to this part to himself, only you two knowing without speculation.

your lifting your hips to escape the stimulation, mouth running dry from the way it hangs open. “mhm,” you squeal. the ball wound up tight in your core releasing, accompanying spurts of cream.

your chest heaving as you gulp out air. hobie pulls his fingers out with a low squelch only he can hear. a low whistle leaves his lips at the where his fingers glisten. you’re expecting him to press them to your tongue but your eyes widen when they continue to extend outwards. instead, they’re all in riri’s mouth.

they’re both eyeing you and you don’t know what to do. your attention darts between the both of them before focusing on the floor. your hands fiddle with your skirt. your face is burning, your whole body is.

“damn hobes,” she mumbles.

you can still feel their gaze on you, thick and heavy.

his hands are running from your back to your calves and back up again. the saliva is smearing over your skin. “i know. it’s better right from the source.” he slides your panties back in there spot and ignore how disappointed you look.

“ ‘bie,” you want to cry. you don’t want to beg in front of everyone but it’s as if he doesn’t care about you.

“stop your whinin’,” he fixes you with a pointed glare. hobie pushes you off his lap til you’re standing. “we’ll be back.” he doesn’t have to explain himself for everyone to understand what’s happening, not that he would anyway. he gets off the couch and takes your hand in his.

hobie takes you with him, guiding you to the bathroom. both your hands are clasped around his and you’re staring at him, wide eyed, rather than your surroundings.

he can feel you watching him. you’re doe eyed and it makes him harder than he already is. it’s as if he’s the only one that can fix it, and he truly is. hobie nearly tosses you into the bathroom. he slams the door behind him and flicks over the lock.

when he turns around, you’re kneeling and pawing at his jeans. you pout when you undo his zipper.

“what’s wrong, pretty?” hobie hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts it to his. “you don’t have to suck it if you don’t want to.”

“it’s not that,” you pull down his jeans . you wrap your fingers around the base and jerk your hand up and down his shaft. “you embarrassed me really bad.” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “can’t face your friends, now.”

hobie pinches your cheek. he mocks your expression before breaking out in a smile. “didn’t look embarrassed fucking yourself on my fingers. i’m not the one who licked your cum off ‘em.” he squeezes your face together until your lips are puckered.

he slaps his tip against your lips and smears the saliva-precum mix across your cheeks. you’re not moving fast enough, too busy telling him “problems” that he couldn’t care about. you don’t even mean them, just want something to irritate him with.

you shut your lips tightly and cross your arms over your chest. he’s only making you more likely to be difficult. you turn your cheek at him and stare at the rug. “not listening to me.”

hobie sighs and runs his hands over his face. he knows you’re delicate and are quick to throw a fit when you feel you have to. if he doesn’t get you under wraps, he’ll have to put in more effort in the long run. “what is it, baby? because the last time i checked, you’re the one who was about to scream my head off because i didn’t take out my dick right then and there.”

you purse your lips harder. “i wasn’t screaming. you’re being dramatic.”

“i’m being dramatic?” he cannot believe you right now. he squats down until you’re levelled with each other. his hand engulfs you by the throat. he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you close. “you’re mad at me because you came. most of it was your work, though. don’t piss me off.”

neither of you say anything for the passing moment. the only movement made is the small nod of your head.

he releases you following a quick peck on your lips. he stands and you’re back to your previous task, swallowing his cock. you hollow your cheeks, hands on his thighs.

hobie grips the sink behind you. he has to siphon his strength to prevent from breaking the counter. he tries, he really does to keep himself from fucking your throat.

he always does start off as gentle, restraining himself. he watches you, watches your spit dribble and froth. his hand strokes the back of your head. he’s all langley, long enough to do so with no problems.

you realize too late when he pushes your head down until you’re choking, eyes watering with your tears. they spill over your eyes when you close them and gasp for air when he lets go.

hobie brushes your tears away while you wheeze. “couldn’t help myself.” he does feel apologetic, although he would definitely do it again. he doesn’t, though. not until you’re ready, sniffling and aligning his cock with your mouth.

you relax as much as you can. after his big push, you down more than the last attempt. you’ve never been able to fit his whole dick in your mouth, considering the length. the rest of it is beneath your hands, being squeezed and rubbed.

he can’t help the way he bucks his hips forward. he does feel guilty when you choke but it’s overwhelmed by the vibrations of your temporary struggle. still, you persist. you suck and slurp despite your need for air. you’re a bit lightheaded and grateful when hobie takes a step back and pulls himself out.

he exhales, thumb pressing on his tip and holding his cock still to discourage himself from cumming. you can’t even fathom how you make him feel. he believes even if you kissed him long enough, he could cum untouched. “you’re so good to me,” he wets his lips, the other hand on the wall. “so good, too good.”

you drink in the praise with a satisfied smile. you wriggle your toes beneath you and decide to take advantage of his lack of attention. your fingers dip between your legs and underneath your underwear.

you lean forward just enough to fingerfuck yourself. it doesn’t feel as good as when he does it, purely because your hands are much smaller than his. “hobie,” you call out to him.

his actions to last longer are almost futile when he meets your big brown eyes. “slut,” he mutters and pulls you to your feet.

you don’t hide your smile when he turns you around by your hips and pushes you down over the counter. he flips your skirt up and yanks your panties down to your ankles.

you don’t give him a chance to tease, pushing your hips back the moment you feel his dick lined up with your slit. you grip the countertop until the tips of your fingers are white and devoid of the red tint.

hobie pushes down on your the small of your back. he trails his thumb over your tramp stamp. he looms over you, your back pressed against his chest. “you’re so pretty, honey. y’know that?” he squeezes your jaw, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. he thinks you look a little better like this, with tear stains streaming down your face and leaving the trails in your powder. the eyeliner you spent so long to perfect is a bit smudged and the highlight in the corner of your hair is gone.

you whine and wiggle your hips. he’s not doing enough. he’s not doing anything but talking about you and that’s not what you want. “stop talking, please.” you feel miserable, shoes clicking against the floor when you shuffle your feet.

“don’t start complainin’, you hear me? i don’t wanna hear it.” he kisses the nape of your neck and rises.

you think nothing of it. you’re awfully confident until he’s grasping your hips and snapping into you. you nearly scream, reaching back and pressing against his stomach.

hobie shoves your hand off his body and holds it instead. “what did i just say?” he much rather you squeeze his hand, nails pressing into his skin. he guides it back to the counter and leaves them both there, his other hand fucking you back onto him.

he’s using you. you can hear the the sound of impact between your skin. you can feel it too, toes curling under the straps of your heels. you can’t keep yourself quiet, moaning into the back of your hand.

for once, hobie doesn’t reprimand you about it. you can already barely stand, forehead resting against the coolness of the composite.

your legs wobble and you’re depending completely on him to hold you up. he’s a little limited in his view, unable to see your breasts bouncing underneath you. he’s not able to see your face, either.

you make up for it in the way you moan. he can hear his name slipping in, muffled in your hand. the other, underneath his, curls and coils. there is no escaping him when you’re pressed against a hard surface and he’s pressed against you.

“ ‘obie,” you pant. you bend your knee and straighten it out as a way to express your pleasure. in the end, he holds it in the air. with both your hands free, you use the hold on the counter to push back against him.

“don’t worry. i got you.” he reaches under your lifted leg, rolling your sensitive nerves between his fingers.

your back arches and you throw your head over his shoulder. your arms tremble as the waves of your orgasm comes crashing against you.

you’re dizzy, falling forward because he fucks you through it. your mouth is open and drool pools over the side. you don’t care. your cunt throbs with over sensitivity and tears begin in your eyes again.

hobie uses your back dimples as leverage. your pleas ring around in his brain but it’s all foggy. he’s so close and it’ll plaguing his thoughts. “sorry, angel. i’m so sorry.” his hand falls beside your eyes. his pace quickens and he has to cover your mouth when you get too loud.

he suddenly pulls out, spewing his cum over your ass. hobie has to take a second behind you, not that you mind. you don’t feel like moving yourself even when your tits are all squished and uncomfortable.

a few minutes pass before he takes some tissue to clean you up with soft touches. “you did so good.” he says, tossing the tissue away and getting another to wipe the slick on your thighs. “my perfect girl. you okay?”

“mhm.” you haven’t gotten up, eyes closed. your hit with an onslaught of sleepiness, your guess is from the waning influence of everything you’ve consumed tonight.

hobie pulls your underwear back up and fixes your skirt back into its place. he pulls your partially limp body up and gathers you in his arms. “are you fallin’ asleep?”

“mhm,” you hum again, coddling into his warmth.

he smiles, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you into the air. he doesn’t have to ask to know you would love to be left alone to sleep so he takes it upon himself to carry you to his room to rest.

hobie really can’t wait until you wake up and he tells you all about how he fucked you to sleep.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#the ending is sooooo bad #rushed bc im sleepy!#and also bc i didn’t know how to end it #didn’t live up to my expectations but mayb bc it’s me #might revisit last???#astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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whatislovevavy · 11 months ago

Text

Most of Freedom and Of Pleasure

Jake Seresin x OC (Cherry)

Hangman and Cherry have never been able to be in the same room as the other without nearly ripping each other's throats out. Hangman provides a solution that provides her a sense of freedom and pleasure that she begins to crave.

Warnings: Smut, P in V, degradation, hot pilots being delusional and horny

Word Count: 3.4k

Soph's Collection of Literature

A note: This is a nice little piece I made for @roosterforme's TopGun 80's Rocktober Challenge using Tears for Fears' Everybody Wants to Rule the World. The lovely divider was made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more. I hope you enjoy <3

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook

This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation.

“God, you’re such a dick,”

You almost missed the way his lips curved into a smirk into the sensitive flesh of the column of your neck. Hands gripping into his shoulders as he sucked at your pulse, pushing your hips into the cold metal lockers behind you with a resonating bang, his broad hands digging into your Nomex clad waist enough to leave marks.

Time was not in your favor, and you could sense that the team had their suspicions about what Hangman and Cherry were doing while they weren’t trying to rip the other to shreds on the tarmac.

“I always did like you more when you were too busy takin' my cock to say your little bratty comments,” he growled into your throat.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the way his gravelly tone and filthy words made you want to clench your thighs around his lean waist.

A huff left your lips.

He was absolutely vexing.

His hands gripped harder into your hips, squeezing into the flesh of your ass, making you let out what could be best described as a repressed sigh.

And shameless and cocksure.

He harshly sucked at the flesh of your neck, sure to leave angry, deep purple marks in his wake, the act making you hiss.

A significant part of you had stopped caring to cover up the traces of your rendezvous; new ones would be there the following day or later in the week anyway.

And was absolutely filled to the brim with brazen confidence and a glaring disregard for others.

You had to bite into the soft, plump flesh of your lip to silence yourself as his mouth made you want to softly whimper.

Chewing him out only turned him on, and ignoring him just made him press harder into your nerves.

You couldn’t win with him. Maybe that was why you let yourself have this arrangement.

To see if you could win, and claim victory over the infamous Hangman that had women for miles lined up for a chance to warm his bed.

Because just like him, you craved victory.

His fingers frantically reached for your front zipper, pulling the dark green material down your body, exposing more and more flesh by the second to his ravenous mouth.

A sigh passed your lips as he fondled your breast, bringing your tank top down to expose your pebbled nipple to the cooler air of the locker room with a gasp, taking the sensitive flesh into his warm mouth with a deep growl.

You hated that he had this effect on you.

Not in a way that itched your skin, but in a way that made your insides swirl and buzz with…

A low whine pulled its way past your lips as he let the rough pads of his fingers run through your folds.

“Mhm, so wet, Cherry. This all f’me?”

His chest inflated with pride at the glare you shot him.

He watched with salacious eyes as he removed his fingers, “Come on, sweets, we both know ya don’t get this wet for just anyone.”

You watched as he let his tongue glide over his bottom lip, his gaze heavy on your flushed cheeks and glazed over eyes.

Agitation overcame you at the sight of him as he closed his eyes, humming at the taste of you on his fingers, trying to ignore how much you ne-wanted his touch again.

And trying to remember how much you hated it when he called you that little endearment with that irritating southern drawl of his.

Maybe this whole arrangement was to gain some freedom from this chase you both did with each other, to put your hatred for him to better use.

To have an outlet. Yeah that was it. An outlet. A reprieve from your hatred induced frustrations.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

His dry laugh made your insides burn and your nails dig into his shoulders just that much harder.

He nipped at your jaw as your nails dug harshly into the back of his neck.

The act made him growl into the column of your throat, the vibrations making you almost shiver.

“I already do, sweets. You wouldn’t keep coming back if it weren't the case.”

You scoffed.

“You’re insufferable.”

His lip quirked.

“And so god-damn frustrating.”

He hummed, his ego growing like his cock in the thin confines of his flight suit with each breathless word that passed sweet, no-faults-in-sight, perfect straight shooter Cherry’s lips.

“But I’m not wrong,” he replied, giving your neck a playful nip.

“I never said you were right, and don’t call me sweets,” you quipped back, trying to keep your voice steady as he sucked at your pulse point.

He chuckled against your skin, his breath hot against your skin, “always so feisty, Cherry,”

Your words died on your lips as his lips lathed at your chest, softly biting into your nipple. A soft sigh left your lips as he soothed your flesh with his frustratingly nimble tongue.

His touch almost made you miss him as he took a second to pull down his flight suit, his white undershirt clashing with his golden tan skin and clinging to his biceps. The imprint of his dog tags showing through his cotton shirt. Your eyes followed the path of the white fabric as he unveiled the sharp ridges and dips of hard muscle from his defined adonis belt, to his marble carved abs that seemed to go on for days, to his pectorals and thick, broad shoulders.

"We don't have all day, Bagman," you said, voice lacking the authority you hoped it would still have.

His muffled dry laugh made your jaw clench and stomach flip.

Your voice couldn't have sounded that desperate, could it?

His lip quirked, revealing pearly white teeth.

"Didn't realize you were in a rush, got a hot date later?"

Your eyes narrowed, his teasing smile grating on your nerves.

"As a matter of fact, I do," you managed to say without your voice sounding too breathless or shaky.

His eyes narrowed for only a millisecond.

A flash of something you've never seen before.

In his eyes, at least.

But as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

"Mhm," he bit the inside of his cheek, leaning down to kiss at your neck, coming up to your tender ear lobe, giving the soft flesh a delicate bite that had a hitched breath leaving your parted lips.

You hated how well versed he was in the subtle language of your body.

He firmly squeezed your hips in his broad hands, his fingers sneaking under the fabric of your bunched up flight suit to your ass.

You almost shivered at his warm breath settling against your ear.

"Does he know he's gonna be getting sloppy seconds?"

A scoff passed your lips, "I don't see how that's of any concern to you."

He hissed as your nails dug harder into the back of his neck.

"We both know you don't date. That's why this works so well, "he said dryly as he kissed at your neck, slowly pulling the Nomex material below your waist, your legs moving at their own accord to step out of the sleeves.

He had a point. An annoying and frustrating point.

"It's the first date anyway," you replied, choosing to ignore the evident vibrations of the chord he just struck through your chest.

He let his jade, evergreen eyes settle on you.

Those same eyes that could read you like a book he's read a hundred times over.

His lip quirked, eyebrows scrunching in amusement.

"That's really romantic, Cherry, really. Showing up with another man's cum dripping down your thighs as he sweats himself on the first date."

Your mouth dried up, utterly speechless at the words he said with that trademark Hangman confidence.

Your eyes narrowed, eyebrows softly pinching together.

A smirk grew on his lips that made you want to slap him, or pull his lips towards yours.

You couldn't decide.

He kept his heated, lust-bright gaze on yours as he trailed his calloused fingers in between the material of your panties and your soft, supple skin, relishing in the feel of gooseflesh he left in his wake.

You watched as let his gaze shift downwards, clicking his tongue.

"Cherry, you shouldn't have... you wore my favorite pair just for me?"

You bit your lip as he continued to toy with the soft, blush pink material of your undergarment.

That same full-of-himself smirk that you hated curved his lips.

But do you know what you hated more?

The fact that you couldn't help but feel like some part of you purposely decided to wear the pair, and not because you purely wanted to, but because there was a part of you that wanted to wear them just for him.

He gently rolled them down your thighs, letting you step out of them.

He let his hand drift under the back of your thigh to behind your knee, grasping your leg and lifting it to bend at his hip before snatching the pair of pink panties that hung off your ankle.

Your eyes followed his hand as he bunched the material between his dexterous fingers.

"Excuse me, I'd like those back," you snipped.

His lip quirked.

"If you're good, I'll consider it, sweets."

You huffed, glaring at the smirk and subsequent wink he sent you.

Your glare worsened as he brought the material to his nose, taking a deep inhale, a deep sigh of satisfaction leaving his lips, doing your damnedest to ignore the soft throbbing of your clit at the sight, and to suppress the whine that threatened to bubble up in your throat.

"Always smell so sweet, Cherry, like a perfect, little cherry pie." He murmured as he placed the debauched material into the pocket of his flight suit.

"You're disgusting and don't call me sweets," you gritted back, raising your voice with a snarl that Jake knew was all bark and no bite.

At least with him.

He gave that salacious smile that always made you want to slap him. Or kiss him. Or knock his perfect teeth out. Or fuck him. Or grab him by his hair and-

Your jaw tensed, nostrils flaring.

His smile widened, evidently proud of the rouse of emotion he pulled from you.

You were too much fun to tease.

"Shhh,” you could have sworn that you saw red the moment the condescending noise left his lips, “someone's gonna hear ya if you keep that up, and ya wouldn't want someone to see just how well I can get along with ya, right Cherry? Make ya make such sweet, absolutely sinful sounds f’me?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, much to your unending irritation with the visceral response this man managed to pull out of you each time he had you.

Whether it was the Hard Deck bathroom during the saturday night rush, that one time at the beach long after Bob Floyd’s birthday celebration, or on the other side of Admiral Simpson’s white fence during the Fourth of July BBQ that past summer.

A chuckle broke free from his chest as you laid a smack to his thick pectoral, eyes still sharp and full of what could be described as a cauldron of hate and lust to anyone else who had the misfortune of interrupting their, what could be described as, animalistic rutting.

He pulled down his flight suit to settle down to the tiled floor with a small thump, his body only clad in his signature pair of Calvin Klein briefs.

That was another thing you hated about him; he looked good in anything.

It pained you to say that he could easily have become a model if the Navy hadn't worked out.

Your nails dug into his shoulders before softly tracing down his body, over each ridge, each chord, each plane of muscle and bulging vein that made you salivate more than you would care to admit.

He pulled his briefs down, letting his thick cock that always forced you to take a minute to adjust to sprung up against his adonis belt with a soft tap.

A soft sigh passed your lips as he gently traced at the embarrassingly soaked folds of your cunt with the pads of his fingers.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin would never admit it, but he was disappointed he didn't have the time to taste you, to savor what he would describe as the intoxicating taste of candied cherries that dribbled down your flushed folds like a sweet nectar.

Sweet nectar from a poisonous, intolerable, type-A personality fruit.

He hated that he wanted to quirk his lip at the birthmark just above your soft, sensitive little clit. To hear that sweet sinful sound he, disappointedly, hadn't been able to find in anyone else when he fucked you with his tongue.

A soft puff of breath passed your lips as he lined up the angry, red bulbous head at your flushed cunt. Grunting as his sensitive head met your drenched folds.

His entrancing eyes hurriedly met yours.

You feverishly nodded.

Jake pushed his length into the delicious inferno of your tight, little pussy.

Your breath felt like cement in your lungs as he let his full, long, thick length accommodate itself into your welcoming heat.

He let his head fall to the crook in her shoulder, her nails still gripping into the thick cords of muscle of his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

"Jesus, Cherry,” he murmured.

God, the way his voice graveled out praise was the most unfortunate consequence of this arrangement that still affected you hours after your trysts.

His cock seemed to push any capability of forming coherent sentences out of your body.

All that passed your lips were sharp intakes of breath and low mewls that left your throat without your consent.

He gave an experimental thrust into your heat, letting your soft sighs of pleasure meet his ears as you adjusted to his length.

Your breath hitched as he brought your other leg around his waist, his biceps bulging with the effort of thrusting into you against the smooth, metal locker doors.

"More."

"Come on, sweets, you can do better than that."

He smirked at your breathless tone.

If his cock didn’t feel like the only thing you needed at the moment to live, you would have told him to go fuck himself.

You laid your head back against the dark gray metal surface, eyes meeting his fiery, lush, emerald gaze, voice frozen in your throat, lips parted.

He manhandled your legs, forcing them to cross around his waist, gripping your waist in his broad hand in a borderline painful grip.

His other hand brought up to grip at the sides of your throat. A low moan came from your lips that had him smirking deviously and your cheeks turning red, utterly at the mercy of him and his thick cock that was rubbing deliciously at that spot he always found with maddening accuracy.

“Please, more,”

Those two words made you cringe with embarrassment, unable to stop the small whimper that passed your bite swollen lips.

His salacious chuckle met your ears, making your cheeks burn brighter.

“God, I can never get used to you like this… so needy and desperate. You become such a sweet girl when I get my dick in ya. Haven’t even started yet, and you're already babbling like a cock-drunk little slut.”

All you could do was part your lips and muster enough composure to utter two simple words.

“F-fuck you,”

His eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise, leaning his head towards your ear. The scent of bergamot and cedar wood filling your senses.

“You already are, sweets,” he growled, sharply thrusting into your sopping wet cunt.

Your gasp and tightening of your grip into his shoulder and hand that settled at your neck had him throbbing against your velvet walls that oh so begged him to never leave.

“Fuck, Cherry, I bet you don’t even hate me,” he panted, “not,” thrust, “even,” thrust, “a little,” thrust, “bit.”

Your cries of pleasure spilled from your lips and into the empty on base locker room, fingernails gripping and scratching into him almost enough to draw blood.

He gripped your throat just a bit harder, enough to have your eyes rolling back, wanton moans pouring from your lips as he pistoned his hips into your cunt.

He yanked your neck closer to his. Close enough to see the small specks of hazel in his almost unending green eyes. And the kink in his nose he got when he broke it back at the Naval Academy. And to smell the potent scent of you on his breath.

“I think you just need someone who can fuck you like this. Treat you like a slut and fuck your tight, little hole. Just like you need.” He gritted out, continuing to pound up into your dripping heat that dribbled your arousal to the tile floor below.

You couldn’t help the labored pants of breath as you nodded feverishly, your consciousness shutting down and your own body taking over.

He let out a dark chuckle with a carnal grin, his abdomen feeling tight as his balls slapped against the underside of your ass, his release building.

“God, you’re fucking adorable for thinking anyone else could fuck you like this,” he snarled.

Your high pitched whines and obscene moans had him gripping you that much tighter and chasing your high.

“Oh, fuck, please!”

He could feel the sweat building at his forehead and chest as he pistoned his hips into your pretty pink, flushed, little pussy.

He ne-wanted you to come first. His ego demanded it. Demanded that he bend you to his will.

His spine tingled at the feeling of your walls spasming around his dick at his brutal pace.

You shuddered at the feeling of his mouth near the soft cartilage of your ear, breathing caught in your throat.

“Please what, sweets? Use your words.” he growled.

“Please, Please… make me cum.”

A deep chested groan rumbled through his throat at your pathetic whine, “fuck, I’ll make you cum, sweets, I’ll make you cum,” he growled.

Your body was wracked by tremors as he thrusted, channeling each ounce of strength in his body into pummeling your flushed cunt.

He watched as your eyes clenched shut, eyebrows pinching together as your feather soft lips parted into a strangled moan that was much louder than the previous ones.

In a split second, he crashed his lips to yours, swallowing each sound of pleasure that escaped your body as he finally felt your walls choke his cock for all he was worth. Your breath mixed with his as your chest heaved, his hips still pistoning into your no doubt raw cunt.

Oversensitivity wracked your body, making you cry out as his chest heaved and lips swallowed each cry and moan. Stars and galaxies flashed before your eyes as he kept his grip on your throat, chasing his high as your second one consumed you.

You could feel with each thrust, how his cock throbbed against your slick, sensitive walls.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he grunted out, a gut punch groan resonating against the locker walls that encased you both.

Your clit tingled at the feeling of his release painting your walls, squirming with each soft impact they landed against your delicate cervix.

His head fell down to your shoulder as his chest heaved, breathing heavy.

You felt as though your head was spinning as your breathing evened out, absentmindedly running your fingers along the pebbled chain of the dog tags that settled between his pecs on a soft bed of sparse, golden chest hair and freckles sparingly scattered across his chest.

Your fingers paused, retracting them to hold onto his shoulder as his breathing settled.

This arrangement was meant to get you both the most of freedom and of pleasure.

Nothing more and nothing less.

He placed a kiss along your neck. His soft touch almost made you sigh.

Almost.

You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering shut, basking in the moment of feeling him still inside you. His softening cock letting his release dribble around the seams of where his cock perfectly encased itself between your folds.

His head rose up to meet your face, cheeks flushed and sensuous evergreen eyes that seemed to glow with a post high gaze.

“Meet same time tomorrow?”

People who may be interested <3

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concreteburialplot · 5 months ago

Text

Briefs

pairing: nicholas x fem!reader

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count; 1.6k

summary: your boyfriend tries on new boxer briefs and you can’t help how good he looks :)

warnings: blurb-y, short & sweet domestic quickie, kinda cliche, p n v, unprotected, etc, 18+ MDNI

A/N; shortest thing i’ve ever written, VERY lightly edited don't perceive mistakes pls, based off a dream i had, pls enjoy x

It’s around 10 pm and your home is calm, lights are dim as your bedtimes approach and you’re laying in bed reading some article on your phone. Your boyfriend walks into the room, and you don’t pay much attention, but you notice he sets something down on the foot of the bed before making his way over to your side.

He stands facing the mirrored closet across the room and does a little twist to look his backside. “I can’t tell if I like these.”

Your gaze flickers up at him and that’s when you realize he’s in nothing but black briefs, shorter than he’s used to wearing, ending right below where his hip and thigh meet.

“I ordered these online, but I didn’t realize I got the shorter kind.” He says with a small disappointment pout, tugging them down a bit.

You can’t help but rake your eyes down his bare tattooed body and land on his ass as he’s twisted around again - now of course, it is your girlfriendly duty to give his booty a little pat. He’s unphased by the action since it’s fairly normal behavior for you but you then give it a little squeeze before he turns back around.

“Mmm I think you look good.” You say, your tone emphasizing your opinion because the sight of his inked body in just tight underwear has unexpected heat pooling between your legs.

He rolls his eyes because he’s inclined to think that you’re just playing around. He sighs, “I’m being serious, I don’t know if I like them. What do you think?”

You prop yourself up on an elbow closer to the edge and place a kiss on his hip, “I think you look fucking sexy.”

“Yeah whatever, you’re being silly.” He waves off your nonsense with eyes still focused on his reflection.

You place another kiss in the space between his navel and where the thick band of his underwear begins. Your teeth gently rake across the flesh there. You hear him suck in a tiny breath at the sensation before you move down to his upper thigh that is so deliciously exposed to you in this new style choice. You place a couple small kisses there before moving back up to his stomach.

“C’mon stop playing around baby, it’s getting late.” He huffs, giving up on his decision-making process.

“Mmm, I don’t care.” You say against his skin as you flip yourself until you’re on all fours never breaking contact with his body.

“Baby what are you doing?” He breathes out with his crystal aqua eyes watching you intently.

You ignore his inquiry as your mouth trails kisses across his hips and up his chest until you meet his face. You can already tell by the way his eyelids are heavy and his lips are parted that your mission succeeded.

“You look really good.” You answer quietly letting your eyes drop to his plump lips.

Before he can protest, you connect your lips together to which he offers no resistance, melting into the kiss immediately.

The prominent throbbing in your core commands your actions, immediately slipping your tongue past his lips to join them. It starts off soft before escalating, his hands finding your silk clothed hips.

It doesn’t take long for your hands to find the band of his underwear, slipping your fingers into them and tug them down, letting his semi-hard cock escape. Your fingers wrap around the veiny length to begin working it slowly in your palm.

His breath hitches in his throat temporarily pausing the kiss. It only causes his actions to intensify, his hands now gripping your hips tighter, scrunching the baby pink satin fabric of your PJ top beneath his fingers.

As you continue to pump him in your hand his own travel just a view inches higher to find the lowest button on your silky button down. His nimble fingers easily slip the plastic round past the small opening. You feel him hardening in your hand as he makes quick progress up the line of buttons until his slipping the short sleeves down your arms.

Your nipples perk at the cool air that they’re now exposed to. His hands instantly find your breasts and massage them in his palms. His left continues to work the flesh in his hands while the right pinches your nipple.

“I need you, baby.” You breathe against your briefly separated lips and he responds with a simple nod filled with mutual need.

His hands slide down your sides until they pat your hipbones indicating for you to move back on the bed. You oblige and do just that, letting him hook his fingers into the ruffled elastic of your matching shorts.

Once off of you, he climbs onto the bed between your legs, your lips never detaching from each other.

His fingers greedily find themselves hovering over your pussy, his middle finger just grazing your clit. The contact makes your breath catch in your throat as you’re already buzzing for him.

He gives your sensitive nub a couple small circles before moving on to your near dripping entrance. You feel the edge of his lip curl into a smirk. “God you’re so fucking wet for me already.”

The statement brings heat to your cheeks, and it doesn’t help when he begins to circle your entrance. “Please.” You beg, more desperately than intended.

You can tell he has no restraint himself since he dips two fingers into you not even easing you into one first. You gasp against his lips and his smirk only grows. The rampant buzzing in your clit worsens when his fingertips instantly find the bundle of nerves inside you and curls into them. Your stomach tightens in need. “Fuck please, I need your cock.”

In any other moment he would’ve dragged this out, maybe asked you to use your words or beg for it, but the intensity of the moment escalated rapidly for the both of you. His hands find your thighs and slide them up the underside until he’s hooked behind your knees. He bends them back as far as your body allows and glides his thick length between your slick covered folds.

A low groan rumbles in his chest at the feeling of you against his now throbbing erection. You can feel the pulse of his swollen head vibrate against your clit and that alone is almost enough to send you over the edge. Before you get the chance to beg again, his head slides down your lips and passes your entrance without warning. A loud gasp sounds from you with the way he’s barely giving you the time to adjust to his size, the stretch of his girth making itself prominently known.

“Fuck.” He groans out into your neck once he bottoms out. “You’re so fucking tight.” He nearly growls against your skin.

You can’t help let out a moan once he starts thrusting into you. It starts slow but as with how the rest of the night is going, it quickly picks up velocity.

The tip of his cock buries itself into your cervix in a addicting but bordering painful way. With his speed and erratic rhythm, you can tell he won’t last long which is fine because you’re already on your edge as well.

He uses his index finger to tilt your head backwards towards the mirrored closet doors. “Look how fucking pretty you are taking me so well.”

Your eyes widen at the surprise of unexpectedly filthy action. You watch his length slide in and out of you at a perspective you never knew you needed. It showed you so much that you’re unable to see in missionary – the way his thighs muscles flex with each thrust, the way his lower stomach contracts every time you feel him twitch inside you.

When his fingers find your swollen nub, it intensifies every sensation you were already feeling. The pads of his fingers roll tight circles into your clit that makes your chest flutter and your stomach tie itself into a knot that is already threatening to snap.

“Cum for me baby, will you? Cum all over my fucking cock.” His tone was commanding but with a rushed undertone, probably from the proximity of his own climax.

Between the way his cock repeatedly fills you up entirely, leaving no empty space behind and the skillful circles he’s knitting into your throbbing clit, it tips you over into your high.

Your orgasm blinds your vision and uncontrollable moans and curses escape you as buzzing euphoria washes over your entire body. Amid your climax you hear Nick’s groans grow deeper and louder followed by the sensation of his cock twitching deep within you. The feeling of his hot cum shooting inside you almost sends you into another orgasm.

You ride out your highs together with your fingers dug into his back and his head buried into your neck coating the skin there with his heavy breath.

After Nick helps you both clean up, you’re in fresh pajamas all curled up and cozy in bed.

“I think I’m gonna keep those briefs.” He jokes with a smile, peering down at you.

You giggle and reach up without releasing him from your cuddling embrace to place a kiss to his cheek. “You should definitely keep them.”

A/N; thank you for reading 🦋 not my best work but i hope you enjoyed 💗

#nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo smut #concreteburialplotworks

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marthawrites · 2 years ago

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The Gift That Keeps Giving

Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.8k+

Can be read as a one shot but reads best as part 2 to A Gift for the Queen (pls be kind it was the second thing I wrote ♥)

About: You've happily stayed with Daemon and Rhaenyra since her birthday. They have a little game up their sleeve to play with you.

Includes: Explicit sexual content!! *takes a really deep breath* involving typical canon incest, M/F/F content, p in v, female masturbation, pussy slapping, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), forced orgasm, orgasm denial, overstimulation, some degradation, manhandling, crying, adult language, and aftercare. With a sweet ending. WHEW. That's a mouthful. Idk friends there's a lot going on here and if I missed anything I apologize!

Note: Hello lovely reader! I'm not in charge of your imagination, but I write with the implications that Westerosi men go in raw and are uncut. Do with that info however you like. As always, reader is nondescript! Huge shout out to my girl Eliza who is just fucking awesome and I love her. This has been stewing in my brain forever and I finally was able to get it out. It's filthy. Please, enjoy! ♥

While it wasn't home, Dragonstone remained lovely. What made it even more lovely was the attention Rhaenyra bestowed upon you during the early mornings and late into the evenings. The Black Queen, despite (or perhaps in spite of) the neverending amount of responsibilities she had, had an insatiable taste for pleasure.

Her body showed all the signs of motherhood: faded stretch marks, widened hips, heavy breasts, and a soft cushion of fat around her middle. If she was beautiful before, deemed "The Realm's Delight" by her uncle-husband, then she was even more so now. Motherhood fit Rhaenyra. And in turn she was a good mom, too.

You couldn't imagine how she balanced everything on her plate. Being a caring mother, a Queen against an upsurer king, a wife… How?

Daemon and Rhaenyra, like many in their ancestry, could only be sated by the fire of a fellow Targaryen. Twin flames from somewhere deep and ancient in the earth. Together they burned. You were certain it was the passion they shared in their intimate moments that kept them in check; a contained bonfire instead of rampant wildfire.

The Rogue Prince, still standing by what he said the first night you shared with them, had yet to let you have his cock. "Whores aren't deserving of my seed." As much as you savored every second of pleasure with Rhaenyra, you ached for him.

Doing as you were told, you sat in one of their chairs and were allowed to merely watch as Rhaenyra rode her husband until sweat sheened on her skin and her legs shook from exertion. It was torture. Daemon had a beautiful cock. Thick, solid, and forever eager to be wrapped around his wife's needy cunt; seemingly as many times as she'd like. And there you were. Both of your legs draped over the arms of the chair to expose yourself wide open, fingers fucking into yourself at the show, unable to reach the kind of climaxes Rhaenyra experienced. Your fingers were half useless despite their best efforts.

"You're being awfully quiet over here," Daemon crooned, walking over to you once he and his wife were finished. Sweat sheened on him too. "Is your Queen fucking her prince so boring?"

You'd been far from quiet. A blush had taken home in your cheeks and your folds glistened with evidence of orgasm. "Never boring," you breathed in reply, looking up at Daemon from beneath your lashes.

He tutted and swatted your hand away from your center. "You are. Perhaps you need to be reminded just how loud you can get." Bringing two fingers up to your mouth he pushed past your lips until his Targaryen signet squished against the corner of your mouth. He smirked at your eager acceptance. He planted his other hand upon the back of your chair, eyes keen on you.

Were your gag reflex any weaker it would have stuttered around his abrupt intrusion. The shadow of his bulk looming over you caused a whine of anticipation to escape your throat, vibrating around his fingers.

He pulled them out and a lewd little line of spittle broke between your lip and the tip of his finger.

"My prince…," you purred, heart thumping wildly beneath your flushed chest. "I do think I need to be reminded. I haven't had a cock in sooo long… my fingers can only go so far. They are much smaller than you." Unintentionally – or perhaps wholly intentionally – your hips squirmed in a silent beg for any sort of attention he might give you.

Dark amusement swelled his pupils. "Small and pathetic," he said sardonically. "Can you even reach where you're begging to be touched?" With his question he delivered a quick smack to the fullness of your spread cunt.

You yelped, surprised, eyes popping open as a second slap followed. "A-ah!" Your legs closed in an attempt to shield yourself from his touch.

"Play nice with our sweet girl," Rhaenyra chimed from the bed. Amusement laced her words too. "We want her to be eager to play later. Isn't that right, husband?"

Flicking your attention to the marital bed you saw that Rhaenyra didn't look up or anything else – content to lay and relax in bliss for a few moments longer before getting ready for the day.

Daemon sniggered, one big hand easily parting your legs open. You weren't squeezing too hard, merely had your thighs pressed together to keep yourself protected from further taunts. "That's right," he replied to his wife over his shoulder before turning his gaze back to you. “Our favorite, and prettiest, whore.”

The weight of his gaze sent your own pupils swelling. You smiled at his praise. “Always happy to be in service of my Queen. And King.” The Prince Consort liked it when you called him that. He liked it even more when it spilled from your pretty lips in a beg for him to fuck you – a gift he still hadn’t given you. Most, though, he liked it when you and Rhaenyra half whispered it on your knees between sharing his cock.

A third slap was delivered to your cunt and you barely managed to muffle a startled whimper behind a bitten lip. “How quickly do you think you could come on my fingers?” He tilted his head in question, eyes still sharp on yours. In the same motion he squeezed the back of your chair for extra support while pushing two calloused digits into your yearning center. He knew right where to find that delightfully sensitive spot along your walls. He sought it and abused it. And, to make matters all the more lascivious, his thumb worked your clit in tandem. “You won’t get a second chance, girl. If you wish to come, then come. Now.” His pace was brutal. And wonderful. He had no shame when it came to pleasure; the obscenity of the wet slaps from his finger fucking sent you over the edge quickly.

The coil of pleasure in your belly snapped with all the force it had been wired with; a straining haste that left you gasping as if Daemon’s hand were wrapped around your throat. A moment ago you were merely under his gaze. Now, your thighs squeezed his forearm as bliss washed over you in hot waves of desperation. You whined a string of moans so sweet it sent the towering prince to near purrs.

“Say thank you,” he said, pulling his fingers from your clenching depths.

“Thank you, my prince.”

That is how Daemon and Rhaenyra left you for the day. Alone to do as you please; eager for their return. Duty called and kept them away until after sundown.

“Will Daemon not want to be present for this, your Grace?” You were barely able to whisper between heated pants.

Rhaenyra had propped pillows beneath your backside to give herself a better angle to your soaked core. Her arms were looped around your thighs so she could support herself upon her elbows. She was happily face down into you with her ass up and pointed to the door. Slowly, she lapped, and slowly, she sucked, seeming to be more than content to have you as many times as she pleased. Your fingers curled in her soft hair. It was in a single haphazard braid and you didn’t feel guilty for messing it up anymore than it already was.

A playful hum vibrated against your folds. “Even in this room I am still the Queen. If my lord husband isn’t happy with what he sees upon arrival, then, well…,” she paused, thinking. “I suppose he won’t get to play.” She returned her attention to you and your eyes rolled closed at the skill of her mouth.

Just on the edge of your pleasure, right before you were flung into the crest, the door opened and Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder to see who would come in so rudely. The peak she’d been working you towards was gone in an instant. If you were lucky, it wouldn’t take long to reach again.

“Sȳz bantis, ābrazȳrys,” good evening wife, Daemon said softly in High Valyrian – their ancestral language a thing you still couldn’t understand. “Emare kirimves?” having fun He asked with a quirk of brow.

“Kessa,” yes she replied, grinning.

By now the door was latched and locked behind him. “Ȳdra daor ivestragī nyke keligon ao,” don’t let me stop you he said and he stepped further into the room and began to disarm and undress.

Were these two ever not horny? You thought privately to yourself. Almost daily, and sometimes multiple times a day, they coupled. You’d witnessed firsthand their sex life was far from boring – and that’s only what you’ve seen! Surely you hadn’t witnessed all that their passion could bring.

“Ziry's mazilībagon, valzȳrys,” she’s set, husband Rhaenyra said with a glimmer you hadn’t seen in her eyes before. Her attention turned fully to you, then, a smolder behind her vibrancy. “Tonight it’s my turn to watch,” she cooed, delicately kissing your sensitive bud in departure.

A shudder ran through you at the combination of her words and lips. Could she really mean…? Was tonight the night you’d been waiting for since arriving at Dragonstone with the Rogue Prince? Excitement shot through you as Rhaenyra moved from the bed to the chair you normally sat in. Even fully nude she looked like a queen should. Poised. Regal: a glimmer of something mischievous or unhinged – perhaps both – right there behind her eyes.

Daemon, now nude, wordlessly beckoned you over. He stood at the edge of the bed: every burn and scar of his seasoned warriors' body on display in the low light of their room. You obeyed with barely any other thought in your head. The same glint as his wife's shown in his face. You were nothing but a play thing for them. A pretty little bird for them to clip and make sing. If Dragonstone – their room – were your cage, you cared little. Who would ever complain about being in service to the Black Queen and her Prince Consort?

"Kiss it," he said evenly, a bite of sternness behind his tone.

He wasn't yet hard. Even his flaccid manhood made your thighs clench. It was as handsome as the rest of him and you wasted no time in trailing warm kisses along his cock, reveling in the sensation of him growing harder beneath your attention. "Gonna let me have it all for myself tonight?" You asked, pumping along his length with a spit-slick hand. Your kisses were open mouthed and wet, tongue accompanying here and there.

"Be a good little whore and quit teasing. If you want it hard then make it hard. Stop this playing," Daemon sneered down at you, pinching your chin between thumb and forefinger to turn your eyes up to him. "Have you had a good day lazing about like a spoiled cat?" Head tilted with his question, traditional silver tresses catching moonlight. "No thoughts in your pretty head… daydreaming about being bent over and fucked. How does it feel to haven't anything to fret over?" A mock laced his tone – bitterness and amusement alike.

You merely smiled up at him. Taunting. "Boring…," you replied before taking his tip between your lips. He tasted warm and salty. Your head bobbed forward and backward as you worked him up the way you knew he liked it. Musk filled your nose and your core instantly clenched. You wanted nothing more than to have him thrusting in and out of you: claiming you, taking you, using you for his pleasure. And if you were lucky, Rhaenyra would join too.

He laughed dryly. "A spoiled little bitch." He twitched in your mouth. By now his cock was fully hardened and slobbery; your eyes glassy from need and strain. Whether prompted by your words or a wave of lust, he grabbed the sides of your arms, squeezing harshly, and maneuvered you around to his liking.

Before you could put it all together, you were on your hands and knees atop the bed with Daemon looming behind you. His cock seared your skin. You gasped wholly surprised and wanton as you looked up to where Rhaenyra still sat and watched; purple eyes alight with wickedness. "Your Grace…?" You asked, spine bending down tantalizingly to prop your ass firmer against the Rogue Prince. Lust consumed your blood and you gripped the plush bedclothes, cunt throbbing with anticipation.

"It's time for you to have your fun. And for me to have mine," she replied, lips pouting in a smile before flashing her teeth in a delighted expression. In her hand she held a phallic shaped object and you knew exactly what it was. The base portion that was meant to be held sparkled with an array of dazzling cut gemstones. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds. The toy the Black Queen meant to fuck herself with gleamed with enough wealth to buy youself a comfortable new life – and yet for her it was merely another thing. An object to use for pleasure as her husband fucked her sweet little pet. She looked at Daemon with a tilt of her head, her body lax and open for the voyeuristic experience. Whatever was shared between them was private, meant for only husband and wife, and Rhaenyra bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

Daemon’s hands gripped your hips and your heart thumped to a new high. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered how many other women – or men, if the rumors you'd heard of the dragon prince were true – were in this position before. Words couldn't even form on your tongue. All you could manage was a sultry connection with Rhaenyra as your eyes stayed on her. Eager. Excited. Fucking elated.

She began circling her clit right as Daemon lined himself up with you. His tip was swollen with as much need as coursed through you, and he pushed himself into your saturated core.

Immediately your jaw slackened with a lusty gasp. He was so big, and so thick, and so hot, that the air was forced from your lungs. He pushed deeper and your eyelids fluttered, fingers gripping into the smooth quilts. With a final flex of his hips and thighs, he was fully hilted into you.

The weight of his torso fell over your back. "If I were any smaller you'd be loose around me, whore," he hissed by your ear, one big calloused hand palming up the length of your spine until it reached the back of your neck. He held you there, mindful of his finger placement, before dragging his hips backwards.

You barely had time to miss the delirious stretch of him, because when he snapped forward into you, an unrestrained moan shuddered through your form. "O-oh! Yes, Daemon, please…!"

He grunted as his grip tightened around your hip, fingers sinking into the soft flesh that padded there. "Was it your Queen who got this cunt so wet? Or was it me?" He asked, the slaps of his pelvis against your asscheeks quickly filling the bedchamber. The natural clench of your body had his already hot blood boiling. The desire to relentlessly pound into you for his own high and pleasure clouded his mind. As much as he'd love to give into that primal part of himself, he wouldn't. There wasn't any fun in that. At least the kind of fun he and Rhaenyra were after.

"Both," you barely managed to say. He'd hardly been fucking you for longer than a few moments and already he had you cockdrunk and ready to drool into their expensive bedding. His pace and pressure hit you at all the right angles. You’d been with Rhaenyra and Daemon exclusively for a couple moons now, and you hadn’t the satisfaction of a cock in that time. The backs of your legs tightened. Your toes curled.

A dark laugh vibrated out from Daemon. "Look at you... already dazed out on my cock. Little slut. You don't get to finish yet," he said with a firm slap to your backside, pulling out and leaving you empty right before climax could wash over you. "Watch your Queen's perfect cunny take her toy." Pulling you by the hair at the back of your head, he turned your attention forward as he slid into you once again. His pace, while still as powerful, was slower this time. His balls slapped against your clit to add another level of obscenity to the lewdness of the night’s event.

The denial of your orgasm seemed to spur Rhaenyra on even more than she already was. The smooth leather wrap of the dildo shone with her slick. Her hips rolled in tandem with her wrist, and both were accented by her pants and whimpers of solo bliss. Pleasure relaxed her face. She grinned at both of you.

Wonderful tension coiled in the pit of your belly. Warm, and tight, and tingling, echoes of it reverberated throughout your entire body and your eyes closed with the sensations. Daemon’s grip hardly laxed, yet you still found the strength to push back against him to meet his thrusts. It was maddening. Beautifully maddening. Something – perhaps nothing – changed in his pace and the embers he’d been stoking threatened to combust. “I’m gon–... fuck, please, my prince… Don’t stop!”

Instantly, he pulled out of you and stopped. The entirety of his length was shiny with your arousal; even the hair of his groin was damp with you. He laughed when you turned your head over your shoulder to glare at him with wetted eyelashes. “You should see yourself right now. Pathetic.”

Rhaenyra’s ministrations grew hotter and sloppier, climax seeming to threaten her as well. Unlike you, she didn’t have anyone controlling the reins. The Black Queen gave into her pleasure and allowed orgasm to take her. Panting, shuddering, and glowing, she was lovely in the throes of her peak.

The squelching of her bejeweled toy sent Daemon half-feral. He flipped you over on your back, leering down at you as he squished your thighs flat against your breasts. You were bent in half and each thrust led him to the deepest parts of your cunt. You half screamed behind your hand, jolts of white hot ecstasy webbing throughout your senses as he fucked you. “Cover your mouth again and I’ll fucking smack you,” he huffed between throaty growls, relishing the sight of you and his wife alike. She was fucking herself again, greedy for more.

This had to be part of the game they were playing. The build up of your peak only to be denied at the last second… what a cruel thing to do. Emotion swam in your eyes until they were glassy from unshed tears. “Please let me come!”

Again, he pulled out from you. Again, you glared with a half sob. The muscles of your legs shook and your scalp felt fuzzy. He wasn’t going easy on you and you wondered how long he could do this before he drowned beneath a crest too. Tears pricked from the outsides of your eyes to roll behind your ears. He almost lost it right then and there. “No,” he smirked coldly. Muscles flexed and tightened as he positioned you up on your knees: his front to your back, you facing Rhaenyra, one arm holding you flush to him as the other gripped your hip. “She likes it when you cry. Let’s show her more of those pretty tears, hm?” He rasped by the shell of your ear, pushing into your overly sensitive center.

A sheen of sweat covered Rhaenyra. The fingers of her free hand played with her clit now, too, edging her bliss as long as she could.

Daemon palmed your breasts and squeezed your nipples. His pace was near brutal now; sweat slicked between your bodies through the control and exertion. “Gods… it’s too much! Please, your Grace, my prince…!” You begged through broken moans. Just as your body began shuddering against Daemon’s, he stopped all he was doing and let his cock slip out of your bullied walls. You sobbed fully this time. Tears fell down your face. Desperation washed over you. They were cruel – both of them – never had they strung you along like this.

“Poor sweet little whore. Begging and crying. It should be your Queen you’re begging to. Let’s give her one more orgasm, yeah? Then maybe she’ll let you finish on your prince’s cock.”

As if together, Rhaenyra’s self-driven thrusts matched Daemon’s as he began taking you yet again. You couldn’t think straight. Could hardly keep your blurry eyes open. You cried out whimpered moans of their names and begged through broken syllables. It was too much. All of it was too much. Daemon’s cock felt so fucking good it took everything you could muster to not give in to your body’s primal desires.

Fresh tears clumped your eyelashes. Rhaenyra found her second climax at the sight of them. Her chest heaved with the force of it; soft abdomen rolled with the release. Creamy slick coated her dildo and her actions finally slowed before stopping; core too sensitive to take anymore.

“Come now, girl,” Daemon cooed, fingertips swiping and circling over your clit. You didn’t need to be told twice. Once your orgasm took hold of you, you nearly blacked out with its intensity. Never in your life had you experienced something like this, and if you weren't already teary you would have cried real tears with the release of such a high build up.

Your gripping and convulsing walls were too much for the Rogue Prince, too, and he barely pulled free from your depths to release his seed into the air. Ropes of it landed atop the bedding – white against the dark material – and he groaned like a beast at your back.

You slumped forward, wholly spent, and Daemon carefully moved from behind you. Laying on your belly you looked between Daemon and Rhaenyra, laughing. "Seven Hells… maybe next time there could be a little warning?"

Sweat and sex hung in the air and it took all of you a few moments to gather yourselves from the fervor of shared passion.

"That takes some of the fun out of it though," Rhaenyra answered after a few moments as she walked to you with a clean washcloth. She had a silk robe wrapped loosely around her. She bent to kiss your forehead. "You did very well for us tonight, little dove. If you truly wanted it to stop, you know all you needed was to say something."

"I know," you replied, cleaning yourself up. "Thank you."

"My lord husband wasn't too rough with you, was he?" She asked sincerely.

You laughed again and shook your head. "No, your Grace."

He smirked at your answer, as did Rhaenyra. "Good," she said. "We can all remember that for next time."

The three of you finished cleaning up with light-hearted chatter and soft touches. Afterwards, wine and a late night snack were shared. When sleep finally overcame you, all of you were a tangle of limbs and silk in the big bed.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider a follow and reblog as I have plans to create and share more writings ♥

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#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon smut #rhaenyra smut #daemyra #daemyra smut #daemon x rhaenyra x reader

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satuguro · 2 years ago

Text

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT III: CURIOSITY AND THE CAT ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— having one (1) friend is making you a bit too soft to your liking, your dad is dead and you make too many jokes about it, and you need a new suture kit.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, implication of ptsd, gore, blood, murder, death, sexual/suggestive content (in other parts), reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— tumblr pls let me write on my phone and still be able to see the words i type thank you xx

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

the doors to the police department flew open, nearly hitting some people who were exiting. ethan, eyes heavy with bags and hair tousled from being stuck in the mask all night, pushed past people who were waiting dutifully in front of the receptionists' desk, ignoring their protests and harsh exclaims.

the policeman sitting behind the desk didn't even seem fazed, only looking up at ethan boredly as he drawled, "sir, you're supposed to wait in line—"

"where's detective bailey?" ethan asked, eyes cold as he raised his head to peer deeper into the department. when no response was given quickly, he slammed his fist into the table. "where is he?!"

"ethan!" his head snapped towards his father's voice, his eyes welling in tears as he tried (and failed) to keep himself together. but seeing his father with no evident emotion on his face besides his red eyes, completely unlike how he was when richie died, ethan couldn't do it.

he walked up to his father, trying to push past him to make his way deeper into the department. "take me to where i can see her," he sniffed, shoving his father's hands away as he tried to stop him. "dad, i need to see her," he begged, shoving his father, hard, away from him. so hard, that he nearly was knocked off his feet, his face dropping at the sudden strength his youngest child exhibited.

but ethan was too focused on trying to find out where his sister's body was being kept to care.

two policemen came between him and the hallway deeper into the department, their hands hovering over their guns while another policeman grabbed ethan's arm, urging him to leave. he was crying now, just a mess of tears and healing bruises in the police department, but they didn't care.

"she's evidence, ethan. and they took me off the case—"

"she's my sister," he seethed, tears freely flowing down his face as he looked at his father in disbelief. nothing. ethan saw nothing in his face. "don't call her evidence. i need to see her," his voice cracked as he shoved himself away from the other policeman, reaching for his dad like he always did as a child. reaching for some reaction, something, anything, even the bare minimum, only to be shoved away and ignored. and this was no different, because even as he grabbed his arm and begged him to let him see his sister, to let him talk to her, to let him say goodbye, there was nothing.

"dad," ethan cried, reaching for his hand, only for him to move it away quickly. "dad, say something. please," he sniffed harshly, "i wasn't there—"

"and why weren't you?" the detective snapped, and ethan's face fell. "why weren't you there, ethan? what was so important that you weren't there?" his words became more accusatory by the second, and it suddenly felt like he was a child again, being yelled at for something that wasn't entirely his fault. "tell me!"

"i," ethan tried to force out, but the lump in his throat was too large. why wasn't he there? why didn't he make it on time? his dad was right. he had all the power in the world to be there in time, and yet he wasn't. "dad, please," he whispered, but his father was already walking away from him.

"you'll see her soon. but not now." he couldn't even look at him as he walked away, leaving his youngest standing alone in a waiting room full of people, tears dripping onto the tile.

"ethan?"

his head turned to the entrance, finding tara, sam, and chad all standing at the doorway. he couldn't even say a single word out, tears welling up in his eyes again as he tried to force out a sentence, a word, anything, but to no avail.

without another word, tara walked up to him and pulled him into a hug. ethan couldn't even bring himself to sob, only allowing the tears to fall freely as he felt the others' arms wrap around him. since then, he didn't utter a word. usually he had a hard time not speaking, but there was so much circling his head that he felt like he could say anything. he didn't have the energy to, so he sat in silence in the waiting room, waiting for the others to be done with their accounts.

tara was the first to come back. she seemed as shaken up as he was, her shaking hands shoved in her pockets as she walked to stand in front of ethan. she didn't say anything at first, as though she had been pondering her words before she spoke. "my friend drove us here. figured it'd be safer, even though the others don't really trust her."

ethan didn't look up, his eyes dead set on his lap. his hands were moving over each other, one over the other as though he was massaging them angrily. the massaging turned to picking at his hangnails for a moment, before returning to massaging. he was anxious; too many emotions and too much happening all at once.

it was a habit that had been going on for a long time, even when he was a kid. he was an anxious child; bullied for speaking too much and made fun of for being dorky, completely unlike his brother who was charming enough that people had actually liked him. but with his new powers that heightened his senses.. ethan found that when he was anxious, everything felt like overload. it all felt like too much.

"i need air," he murmured, standing up abruptly and moving past tara, ignoring her protests of, 'but it isn't safe!'

the cold night air hit his face, bringing a chill throughout his body that he would've found uncomfortable if he wasn't so desperate to be outside. ethan breathed in the air and let it freshen up his insides, trying to focus on the feeling of air expanding his lungs rather than the fact that his father blamed him for his sister's death.

the hairs on his neck stood up, making him immediately clench his fists and look around, walking a thin line between anger and fear as he looked for what had set off his senses in such a way.

you had been leaning against the side of the police department, obviously out of your element and only mildly perturbed by it. you didn't expect to settle into bed and have tara call you moments later, talking about the attack you had been in as well and how she'd rather get a ride from you rather than take the subway or walk. her reasoning made sense, but you didn't understand why she called you all of people. but sleep had been getting harder for you as the days passed, so you reluctantly agreed to bring her and her friend group to the department.

so you tried to seem as though you weren't uncomfortable loitering around the one place you had been avoiding for the majority of your life. but as you stared at the brunette who had been panicking not even a minute before he had seen you, you realized that maybe things weren't as bad for you as it was for him.

his eyes were red and his hands were repeatedly clenching and unclenching at his sides tightly. so tight, that you could see his knuckles pale despite the lack of light. he was looking at you, you realized, his huge puppy dog eyes glassy with tears and his brows furrowed as he raised a hand and quickly wiped away his tears.

you didn't say a word (you didn't even know him, what could have you said?), choosing to only tilt your head as you peered at his face.

he felt like you were studying him. taking in his features like a painting you'd stare at in a museum, studying the red of his eyes and the drip of his tears, the light dapple of freckles that had been fading due to the oncoming winter. he found himself swallowing down his need to cry so that he could force out a small, "what?" that sounded a lot less intimidating than he wanted it to sound.

"nothing," you said, and he was surprised to hear that your voice was so smooth. you were still looking at him though, probably coming up with your own judgement of him just by looking at his messed up state. you weren't, though— you were just trying to figure out whether you should show some simple human concern for once in your life.

but was some stranger worth it? in any other circumstance, the answer would’ve been simple, but there was something so familiar about the boy that it was

"you have a staring problem," ethan said defensively, facing away from you as he stared into the street.

"better than whatever's going on with you right now." the words fell from your mouth before you could stop them, the brutal honesty in that sentence taking even you aback by them. but they were out now, and you weren't the type to apologize for stuff you said.

you weren't the type. but as you stared holes into the back of his head, having a moral battle over some dude, you found yourself saying a quick, "sorry," that made you feel like you were suddenly naked out in the streets of new york.

“it’s fine. you’re probably right, anyways.” he sniffled, wiping the last bit of tears from his eyes. “i bet you’re having a hell of a better time than i am.”

you took in his words as you shoved yourself off the side of the building, walking ahead of you so that you stood horizontally from him. there was a distance between you both as you stood there, staring at the street. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but the tension was making the air thick; the both of you were waiting for one of you to talk.

"my.. friend got attacked." this time you could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your side profile as you avoided his gaze. "i had to pick her and her friends up. so, yeah, you're right," you sighed, and your breath came out in white steam, "my situation is probably better. doesn't mean i'm having a good time, though."

“there you are.”

you shut your mouth again at the sound of chad’s voice, turning to the others as they came exiting the station. you watched as chad looked at ethan concernedly, your eyebrows raising when you realized; he was one of tara's friends. that's why he looked so familiar.

you had never stayed around to see them for more than a few seconds. they were tara;s friends, not yours, and to simply linger as thy approached her after her singular lecture with you was far too weird for you. so you often kept your distance, choosing to walk away before she had the chance to introduce you, turning your back before they could ask you what your name was. having one person you considered a friend was dangerous enough in your line of work.

"you already met y/n," sam said to him, looking towards you with a tight lipped smile. "tara called her to drive us after—"

"after the attack, yeah," he was still looking at you with those doe eyes of his, taking in your seemingly nonchalant front. he wasn't blind to the feeling of familiarity he got when he saw you, but knowing now that you were one of tara's friends made sense. you were the girl they always saw walking out of psych lecture with her. "i'm ethan," he said, forcing a toothless smile.

"y/n." you nodded at him in acknowledgement before turning to the rest of the group. "where am i taking you guys?" you asked, starting to walk to your car, which was parked down the street.

"blackmore dorms," chad said, making you nod. "since the apartment is a no-go.. they can probably sleep in our dorm for a little bit, if that's okay," he glanced at ethan, who only nodded. "i'll bunk with ethan tonight, you two can sleep in my room," he said to tara and sam, who only nodded. both of them looked too beat up to even try and protest.

you walked up to your car— a black porsche carrera that your father had stolen before you were even born —unlocking it wordlessly.

"this is your car?" ethan couldn't help but ask, eyebrows raising at the sight of it. it was practically new despite its age, and the fact that you were a college student who casually owned a porsche was beyond him.

"that's what i said," chad said with a small chuckle, "what do your parents do again, y/n?"

"my dad's rotting dead 6 feet below," you responded dryly, unlocking the car for the rest of them and not even bothering to look at their reactions. when no laughs followed except for tara's amused snort, (tough crowd, you assumed), you peered at them with a cocked brow. "well? are we leaving?"

"right," chad mumbled, climbing into the backseat next to tara and sam while ethan took the passenger seat.

the ride to blackmore was quiet, the most of you far too focused on just getting home and sleeping. ethan's head rested on the window of your car, his eyes fluttering closed every once in a while as he struggled to stay awake. he was exhausted, having barely slept a wink between patrolling, school, and fighting off serial killers. his mind was far too focused on getting revenge on whoever killed his sister, but as he listened to the smooth hum of the car and the soft music that played through your radio, he found himself drifting off.

"did you talk to him for a little?" sam asked you from the backseat, and you nodded, your eyes still set on the road.

"yeah. granted, i didn't do much comforting. it's not really my forte, i guess." you sighed. "he seemed like in pretty bad shape."

"it was his sister," tara said softly, looking at ethan's sleeping face with empathy. "quinn. she didn't make it."

the rest of the ride was in silence.

he was jolted awake when his senses went off, sending that jolt of energy through his body and forcing his hand to grab your wrist before it could touch him. it looked like you were just trying to shake him awake, but as his hand wrapped around his wrist, you tore your hand away (with surprising strength) from his grasp.

"shit," you breathed, sending him a look as you tried to process what just happened. "your reflexes are crazy."

"sorry," ethan breathed, eyes traveling down to where your hands were, your other hand massaging your wrist as you stared at him. "i didn't bruise you, did i?"

"not in the way that i usually like," you grumbled, making a dusting of red appear over his cheeks. "it's fine, really. you're on edge."

"still," he mumbled, warily looking at your wrist. there wasn't a bruise forming, thankfully, but ethan often times found himself cautious of his own strength. he didn't want to accidentally hurt you just because he was anxious. "'m sorry anyways."

"it's okay. really."

a beat. "where did the others go?"

"they went ahead. tara 'n sam were tired so chad offered to bring them to your dorm while i woke you up." you shrugged, reclining your seat a bit as you unbuckled your seatbelt. your eyes drifted towards ethan, who was still sitting with his seatbelt, eyes staring holes into his lap. he seemed so far away, almost unreachable. "you don't have to go now," you found yourself saying, "take your time."

jesus, what was happening to you? first you get out of bed for a friend, now you found yourself telling some stranger to take their time with getting out of your car. you were losing minutes of sleep— you could be with your cats, and yet you were sitting in silence next to a boy you only knew the name of. the silence that should've felt uncomfortable simply.. didn't. the silence was comfortable; just two strangers sitting quietly alone in a car.

"okay," he glanced at you with a forced smile. "let's go."

you locked your car behind you as you walked next to ethan, digging your hands into the pockets of your pajamas. he seemed to be more tired than distressed as he trudged next to you, arms crossed over his chest. the night was cold and far more eerie; being attacked in the past hours would do that to you.

"do you live on campus?" ethan asked. he usually hated small talk, as he was one to never shut up to other people unless they were complete strangers. but he was silently thankful that you had been patient with him through the night, even letting him have a bit of time before he exited the car. he wasn't sure why he wanted to ask you questions.

maybe he was curious about you. maybe he wanted to know you.

"no," you replied smoothly, eyes set on the pavement ahead of you. "i have my own place."

"rich family?"

"yeah, their life insurance money was great," you lied in a monotone voice, eyebrows raising in surprise when you heard him stifle a chuckle. "i'm guessing you feeling a little better than before."

"arguably worse, actually," ethan said matter-of-factly, making you hum in response. "i think i'm just too tired to fully feel everything, y'know?"

"makes sense," you said, walking up to the entrance door and opening it with your card. "that's why we gotta get you into your dorm."

"but what about you?" you raised a brow at him as you shut the door behind you. ethan's brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he just said, having just blurted it out without another thought. "who'll bring you home?"

you blinked. "my car?" you couldn't decipher that look on his face, as though he was mentally turning over a plan around and around. for someone who seemed to always have something to say, he was suddenly rendered quiet. "are you worried about me?" your tone was teasing, but you were genuinely serious as you asked.

"i'm jus' worried about your safety, that's all!" his eyes widened in slight fear when your arms crossed over your chest, your eyes becoming more unsure by the second. "i mean, you can probably handle it on your own—"

"i can handle it on my own."

"but it's a murderer!" ethan exclaimed as he began to lead you to his dorm room. "you live alone, and no one watches over you— this sounds really bad and i'm sorry —but i don't know if you've watched horror movies, but that's basically how every single one starts!" a pause. "not that i'm saying you can't handle your own or anything!"

"may i remind you that you don't actually know me. we aren't friends." you said dryly, but even that didn't change his mind. you came to the conclusion then that he was far too stubborn for his own good. anxiety filled, almost too talkative, and closed off emotionally, but he was stubborn.

"that doesn't matter," ethan said with a shake of his head. he stopped in front of his dorm room door, looking at you with a worry ridden face. "do you," he swallowed thickly, "want to come in?"

"you already know the answer to that, eth."

"i know, but—" he looked at the warning look you had on your face. “fine. it was worth a shot." he stepped into his doorway, turning around to take the door. "good night, y/n."

"good night, ethan."

".. i went through their financial records dozens of times and this was not in any of them, it doesn't make sense," agent kirby grumbled, looking up warily at the fire escapes that hung over head. the alleyway was tucked away pretty well— you had only used it a few times when getting away, primarily because most of the police didn't even know the theatre nearby it existed.

"maybe you're just not that good at your job," you said under your breath.

"who brought little miss sunshine along?" kirby asked, sending you a warning look. you only gave her a sarcastic smile in response.

"i did," tara said as she walked next to sam. "she helped us last night."

that was an understatement. you consciously rubbed the bandage on your neck, which you had hidden under your jacket. you didn't want them thinking that you had gotten it because you had attacked them.

you had woken up to a text from tara asking if you wanted to come along and investigate. she was under the assumption that you wanted nothing to do with any of the murders, but you saw her invitation as an in. it'd allow you to be able to investigate from the inside, and truthfully, your curiosity was getting the best of you. you wanted to know who was behind everything.

“i told you that you didn’t have to come,” tara said pointedly, but you only shrugged in response, peering up at the spray painted killer on the brick wall.

“what else am i supposed to do nowadays?” you sighed, "helping you avoid murder feels just like another friday at this point." tara scoffed at your words, which made a downward smile appear on your face.

gale swiped her card down at the entrance way and opened it, allowing everyone to pile in. it was pitch black inside, lest and you found yourself gripping your bag tighter to your body, suddenly aware of the knife that was hidden inside of it.

if any one from the group saw it, they'd surely think that you were the murderer. if only they knew that you just liked being prepared.

"what is this place?" kirby asked, hand hovering over her gun as she looked around the dimly lit area.

"a movie theatre," you murmured, walking away from the group to explore further, until gale turned on the energy.

"how'd you know that?" mindy asked you cautiously, eyes furrowed as she looked you. of the entire group, she was the most distrustful of you (for good reason, honestly).

"new york born and raised," you responded with a shrug, "besides; my dad showed me once."

mindy clicked her tongue. "that's only mildly suspicious."

"can't even deny that," you muttered.

"but this place isn't just a movie theatre." gale weathers (who you had only ever seen from afar, as she was usually the one reporting all your burglaries) nodded over to the official entrance to the theatre, where some gears were turning as a run-down curtain was raised. "it's also a shrine."

you swallowed thickly as you entered, eyes widening at the sheer amount of all the souvenirs inside the rundown place. what once used to be a beautiful theatre was replaced by mannequins of outfits worn during the stab killings and glass cases full of what police would call evidence. knives of different variety, all still bloodied by their last victims, were posed proudly within the glass cases right next to sketches showing how they were used. drawings upon drawings of the survivors and legacy characters of the stab franchise was beside almost every item, and based off of the style, they were all from one person.

"they've got the whole god damn franchise," mindy said in shock, peering into one of the glass cases. her face fell when she saw the shirt on display, calling out, "chad," over her shoulder. as her twin walked up to her, she looked back at the black shirt. "this is uncle randy's," she breathed. "they've got everything."

you looked into one of the glass cases full of drawings of the original killers and original victims. they were all drawn with a meticulous hand; the artist was obsessed with them enough to be able to draw them repeatedly over and over. they studied their faces, from how they looked like when they were terrified all the way until their last breath.

"the same artist," you breathed, unaware that ethan had walked up next to you and looked into the same case.

"just one person." he seemed to be in deep thought, his brows furrowed as he stared at the artwork. "do you think one person's behind this?"

"god, no," you shook your head, "but i do think one person is more obsessed than the other. or at least, someone was." you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching as his tongue poked at his cheek as he read all the pieces of art.

you saw spider-man doing that once. you shook the thought out of your head as you focused your attention back on the evidence; you were sure that the masked hero would love to hear about this.

but as you stood next to the boy who was studying the artwork intently, a question popped into your head.

"so why are you here?" you asked him casually, crossing your arms over your chest. he turned to you, raising a brow at your sudden question.

ethan walked closer to you, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you suspiciously. "i could ask you the same thing."

"actually, tara—"

"it was so that we could keep an eye on you," chad interrupted, making the both of you snap your heads towards him. he managed a thin lipped smile, putting an arm onto one of the cases. "both of you."

mindy pointed two eyes at her eyes before pointing them at the both of you, her face nothing short of serious. if you weren't being suspected, you would've laughed.

"the killer must've found this place before he murdered jason and greg," gale explained, "and then he.. took the masks off the mannequins. all nine, from stuart and billie to amber and richie."

ethan swallowed thickly at the sound of his brother's name, turning away from the others as he tried to focus on something else. he could feel his father's eyes burn into the back of his skull. how convenient was it that he (and later, his family) moved to an entirely new state just to forget about his brother, only for it to bite him in the ass once he got here. he barely talked about his relation to his father to the others, much less the fact that they were all related to the killer who tried to kill them only a year prior. quinn and his father wanted to move on from richie too. at least, that was what they had told ethan.

"so somebody killed these chuckle fucks and took over?" chad asked, making you roll your eyes at the words he used.

"someone who believes that sam masterminded woodsboro," gal said with a nod.

"if this were a normal stab movie," mindy began, looking at all the cloaks that were left with no mask, "this would be the killer's lair."

"which means that this isn't a normal stab movie," you said with a sigh, "great."

tara's face was unreadable as she stared at the cloak labeled 'billy.' shaking her head, she turned around and left the theater without another word, sam following close behind her.

you sat alone at the edge of the stage, tapping your fingers on the wood as you let everyone figure out what the next move was. the sound of heavy footsteps made you look up, eyes narrowing when you saw detective bailey not too far from you, turning his head away from your vicinity. you couldn't tell whether he was staring at you or not, but there was an unsettling feeling in your chest that gave you enough of an answer.

you couldn't trust anyone.

they had dropped you off before they went on to their new plan. you claimed you had a lecture; and you technically did, but you never went to your lectures most of the time.

you gave them a fake address before walking home yourself. you didn't trust any of them— to casually give them your address was like a death wish. you knew better.

the black mask fit comfortably over your face as you pulled it over. while the others had their own plan, you had your own; you'd do some patrolling (jesus, who were you, spider-man?) and watch over them from afar. you were shoving a gun into your side before you heard someone knock on your bedroom window. immediately, you took out your gun and pointed it at the glass.

it was him. dressed in his suit as per usual, looking at you upside down. his mask was on half of his face, and he managed a toothy smile that made you roll your eyes in annoyance. shoving your gun back into your side pocket, you walked over to open the window for the hero.

"what did i say about friendly visits, spider?" you asked skeptically, moving back to your desk to get your items in place. his feet hit your hardwood floor gently as he swung into your home, shutting the window behind him.

"this isn't technically a visit," he said with a shrug, coming up next to you. he watched you put on your gloves with interest. "a little birdy told me that the stab survivors needed our help."

"and which little birdy is that?" you asked, not even looking up at him. you were too busy making sure every claw was working well, but you could feel him standing next to you. his back was to the edge of the table as he placed his weight comfortably on it. his hands were holding the edge of it as he talked freely with his mask pulled up half way.

"i just used my radio and asked them politely—"

".. you asked the police if you could help?"

"i asked detective kirby if i could help," he corrected, obviously exasperated by your surprise. "i needed an in, so i asked and she told me to be on standby. we'll just be listening to them on this," he pulled out a burner phone, setting it down on your table, "and they'll tell us where some action is happening."

"some action," you scoffed at his words, "that's one way to put it."

"how else am i supposed to put it? anyways, i decided to come here and politely invite you to join me, kitty." spider-man said with a tight-lipped smile. but as his eyes looked you up and down, realizing you were already fully ready, his smile faltered. "did you have your own plan?" he asked you curiously.

"i did." you said pointedly, unsheathing your claws before retracting them again. "i wanted to watch over them. lawfully stalk them to make sure they're still breathing or whatever." there was an odd silence that hung in the air as you worked diligently on your claws. "you seem to be in a better mood than yesterday," you commented, glancing at him from your peripherals before focusing back on your weapons. "are you really feeling that way, spider?"

spider-man cleared his throat at that. truthfully, ethan was masking everything again. he wanted to feel like himself, to be able to freely joke and banter with others how he used to, but everything seemed so forced now. all he felt, all he really felt was anger. he wanted to get revenge, and for once in his life, he was willing to stoop as low as richie and kill for what he believed in.

he hated that you saw right through his act. it was as though you had ignored every forced smile he flashed, ignored how he was desperately trying to feel like himself again, and ignored his light hearted facade.

you knew he was lying to you.

ethan stayed quiet. you knew what that silence meant.

"thought so," you murmured. you looked down at the burner phone, the black screen reflecting your own face back to you. "can i ask how you knew her?" you asked him, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"who?"

"quinn." you looked up at him. "there was only one person killed in that attack. quinn bailey, the detective's daughter." his jaw clenched when he heard her name come out of your mouth, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

"just a friend i knew," ethan said, the lie coming out like a taboo secret. to refer to his own sister as just a friend pained him. "i was close to her. incredibly close to her and i wasn't there in time to save her. i couldn't get there in time." he seemed to be millions of miles away as he talked, his eyes set on the floor.

you stayed silent for once, letting the silence surround the both of you. he didn't continue, seemingly too deep in his head to say more about the subject, and you understood that. you knew how that felt, to be physically in one place and mentally somewhere else. "if you're blaming yourself, you're a lot stupider than i thought. none of it is your fault."

you were so nonchalant, as though your words were factual. you never truly lied unless it was for your own gain, and that alone made you distrustful, but as you casually stated his innocence in the whole scheme of things, ethan found himself looking at you with hopeful eyes. he believed you, and whether that was dangerous of not, he wasn't sure.

"don't even say anything, it'll ruin the moment," you added dryly, sending him a warning look.

the burner phone began to ring, making the hero immediately click answer (crazy reflexes). kirby's panicked voice rang through the speaker. "gale weathers' house! upper west side—"

"west 96th," you interrupted, already opening the window.

spider-man blinked as he quickly hung up, already crawling out the window. he pulled his mask over the rest of his face. "how did you know that?" he offered a hand out to you,

"i was thinking of stealing her shit before all this," you grumbled, taking his hand. he pulled you close to him, his hand finding your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck.

"typical." he shot another web up, and you tried not to scream as you were suddenly brought up into the sky, the wind whipping in your face as he began to make his way to the upper west side.

the sun had set significantly by the time you made it, your leg coming up to kick through one of the bedroom windows. spider-man came in right after you, barely making a sound as he listened for any sounds. it was so quiet. even as you stepped towards the ajar door of the bedroom, not a single sound was heard.

you crept out into the hallway, hand grabbing your gun and raising it. spiderman crawled above you as you walked slowly down the hallway, catching a glimpse of blue as you did. looking up at the hero, you nodded in the direction of where you had seen it. he nodded in response, crawling ahead quietly.

gale had seen him as he crawled up the side of her wall, his finger coming up to his mask in a 'shh' motion. she nodded, the phone still up against her ear as she spoke, "the brains and the sex appeal," she responded, turning around to try and find the killer. but all she saw was her dead boyfriend on the ground of her living room, the killer nowhere to be seen. but then she saw you, gun in hand as you pointed it around you, your eyes looking into her's and practically begging her to not say a word.

you heard the muffled talking of the killer through the phone, your gun pointed opposite of where gale had her's pointed.

"can you hold, please?" gale asked, and you raised your eyebrows, turning to her in shock. but she quickly redialed the number, making a loud ringing sound appear from the closet.

you shot it. once. twice. five times, walking closer with each step.

ethan felt that familiar chill run through his body, his eyes widening as he yelled, "watch out!"

the doors flew open as ghostface jumped through, their knife nearly piercing your shoulder as they did. you jumped back before they could reach you, shooting your gun at them and groaning when it didn't stop them. "gale, get back!" you yelled over your shoulder, watching as spider-man swung down to kick them away from you.

ghostface quickly got up as spider-man shot his webs at them, their dodges quick as they tried to lunge at him with their knife.

but as they raised it up to throw it at the hero, you shot their arm, making them groan in pain and let go of their weapon. they fell to the ground, spider-man shooting yet another web at them to stick their feet to the floor.

he was so close to getting him. he was only feet away, walking closer as he did, his hands curling into fists as anger coursed through his veins. they were stuck. they had no way of leaving, no way of escaping.

"remove his mask," you told him, the curiosity almost too much as you kept your gun pointed at him. gale stood behind you, her eyes wary as she watched the hero walk closer. "spider, remove his mask—"

he threw a punch at the killer. the mask didn't fall off, but the groan of pain he heard was enough that he wanted to keep going. ethan kicked their stomach, his anger growing at the lack of response as he kicked it again. and again.

they killed his sister.

another kick.

they slit her throat. they stabbed her and twisted the knife into her chest. they took away the person that cared for him when his dad didn't, who paid attention to him when all his father really cared about was richie. the one family member who truly loved him and cared for him like any older sister would. they killed her.

and ethan didn't even get to say goodbye.

he could feel tears burning his eyes as he grabbed them by the collar, raising them as much as he could with their foot stuck against the floor. he punched them hard, and that's when he felt it. his nerves going crazy, electrifying his body, and before he knew it, all he felt was pain.

his hand went to the hilt of the knife they had stabbed into him. right into the lower left of his torso, and your gun rang as you shot the killer in the chest. they pulled the knife out with them as they collapsed on the floor.

and as he stumbled to the ground, you caught him. "spider? oh fuck," your breaths were heavy as you immediately applied pressure to his wound, eyes wide as you tried to stop the bleeding. your heart was pounding harder and faster in your chest. he was bleeding so much, the crimson pooling into the palms of your hands as you applied as much pressure as you could.

gale rushed forward, her hand going over yours as her eyes, wide and panicked, looked at you. "you have to take him to the hospital."

"i can't—"

"do you want to save him?!" gale demanded, staring right into your eyes.

"i'll be fine," he seethed through gritted teeth, the pain growing as he tried to move. "i can't go to the hospital. i have to—" he coughed harshly and tasted iron. "i have to get him—"

"are you people fucking crazy?!" gale cried out, looking at the hero in disbelief. "you need help!"

"i'm not letting you get back at them.." your words died in your throat when you looked back at where the killer was supposed to be.

they were gone.

the hero groaned as he pushed himself up, ignoring the way you and gale tried to keep him laying down. "where are they?" he demanded, his head whipping around as he tried to look for the killer. it felt like all his hope for getting his revenge was lost in a blink of an eye. he got away from him again, and he was so close. he had him in his hands. "where are they?"

"we have to get you help," you urged, hearing the ding of the elevator as the carpenter sisters ran in. surely the police was close behind.

"i can't leave, please—" he was pleading with you now, gripping your arm tightly as he tried to change your mind, as he tried to make you forget that he was literally bleeding all over your hands. the warmth of his blood made your eyes glass over as past memories ran rampant through your head, but you prevailed.

"we need to get you help. now." you looked into the eyes of his mask, eyes serious. "please. let's go."

he swung the both of you through your apartment window, groaning as he pulled his mask over half of his face and laid on your bedroom floor. you hurriedly shut the window behind you as you ran to get the medical supplies you needed. your hands were shaking, you realized, as you grabbed your first aid kit and tried to calm your body down.

"dad? dad—" your panicked voice rang through your father's head as he stumbled into your home, his hand holding his side. you were so young, still so full of life and completely oblivious to his line of work. but a heist had gone much too wrong, and with no family, no trust is anyone, he had nothing but you, his 7 year old daughter.

"y/n, get the kit in the bathroom under the sink," he managed past heavy breaths, coughing to his side and spitting blood onto the rug of your living room. you were crying now, eyes blurring over in tears as you pressed against where his hand was, your breathing picking up when blood gushed out of him.

"spider? hey, you gotta stay with me, okay?" you said as you ran back to his side, helping him get onto your bed. you sniffled harshly as you grabbed the first aid kit.

you grabbed the first aid kit with shaking hands, the once-white plastic staining red with your father's blood. "i don't know what i'm doing, i don't know what i'm doing," you said over and over, whispering the words like a panicked mantra.

you could feel the walls of your room tower over you as you forced the box open, grabbing the gauze and bandages with trembling fingers. it was different when it was someone else. it was different when the entire situation reminded you of when you realized your father wasn't who he said he was. that he was a criminal, and after keeping it a secret from you for nearly a decade, his cover was blown.

"kitty," spider managed to say, staring at your wide, horrified eyes as you struggled to clean the blood around his wound. you looked terrified. "look at me."

you ignored his words, taking the roll of gauze and beginning to wound pack his stab wound. the red pool that seemed to grow larger and larger around him made your breath hitch.

he was bleeding everywhere. the pool of red underneath him seemed to grow with every passing moment, and you were crying. sobbing as you tried to listen to your dad's instructions of how to wound pack a bullet wound.

you couldn't think straight. it felt like you were reliving the moment again, as though you were barely 7 with your father's blood on your hands.

you heard him hiss in pain as you continued to press the gauze into his wound, but you kept going. everything was white noise to you as you kept wound packing, frustrated tears dripping from your eyes when the red continued to seep into the white of the gauze. "fuck," you muttered under your breath, grabbing another roll of gauze.

he bit down on his lip to keep himself from screaming, head falling back as he tried to focus on something. anything that would keep his mind off of the stabbing. "please, talk to me," he said, pulling his head back up to look at you. "just talk about something. anything."

you packed the gauze into his wound as you sniffled harshly. "i was 7 when i patched up my first wound. my dad," you swallowed hard, "my dad came home with a bullet wound."

"your father was the original black cat," spider-man said, groaning in pain before he could get another word out.

"he was." you had never admitted that to anyone before. "but i didn't know. not until i was patching up his bullet wound on the living room floor." you felt your heart rate slow when you saw no right of blood seeping through the wound. you had to suture him up.

you slowly began to remove some of the packing gauze, your brows furrowing when you realized his own body was healing him from the inside. slowly but surely, his own powers had stopped the bleeding. all you had to do was suture him.

"you were so young," he managed to say before letting out a whimper of pain. "fuck! sorry i can't talk that much all this hurts really bad and the fact that i couldn't get them—"

"it's fine." you looked into the eyes of his mask. you turned back to the wound, grabbing your suture kit (you really had to get a new one) and taking the needle, thread, and forceps.

"it's not fine. it really isn't fine." the needle pierced his skin and he winced, teeth biting harder into his bottom lip. "i should've thought before going to attack them, i should've removed their mask—"

"stop."

"i shouldn't have let them get away." guilt consumed his every being as he spilled his heart out to you, tears blurring his vision. "i was just.. i was just so angry at them because they killed her. they killed my sister, and i couldn't do anything about it because i wasn't there. i was too fucking late."

his sister. your actions paused when your eyes widened in realization.

"it was his sister," tara said softly, looking at ethan's sleeping face with empathy. "quinn. she didn't make it."

ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— pls feel free to ask me for nsfw/sfw headcanons about this series! & thank you all for being so supportive xx

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch , @hotweeb , @marsyay78 , @valenftcrush , @bonkyandsteeb3000 , @bubs-world , @danis-stuff-is-here , @nuhteyam , @ravenstrueluv , @taeversity , @heartipods

#scream 6 imagines #scream 6 smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x y/n #scream fanfic #scream 6 fanfic #ethan landry fanfiction #to fault a net—!#scream 6 imagine #scream vi imagine #scream vi smut #scream vi imagines

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briaroftheroses · 10 months ago

Text

Earth Angel

soft!dom!kit walker x virgin!afab!reader

warnings: smut, p in v sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, handjob (kinda?), aftercare, my first time writing for a man 😭, so much fluff it’s actually disgusting, kit kinda doms the reader but its more like guiding them on what to do, no pronouns used but explicitly talks about the reader having female body parts and reader wears a dress, no y/n.

word count: 4.4K (4486 words)

a/n: this is my first time writing for a male character so i’m sorry if it sucks 😭💀 i’ve also not finished asylum yet so pls no plot spoilers. im only halfway through but i really love kit and just wanted to write for him. @domripley and @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i have waited so patiently for this crappy fic.

main masterlist

The hands of the clock on the wall slowly ticked towards 6pm as you hurriedly bustled around your kitchen. It seemed as though the more you focused on the impending time, the slower the hands ticked forward, seconds stretching into what felt like hours. A cruel trick of the mind, and one you were unable to help. Every time you heard the minute hand click forward, your eyes snapped to the offending clock, nearly groaning in frustration when it hadn’t magically fast-forwarded time to when you wanted it.

6pm was when Kit walked through your front door. Every Thursday, at 6pm on the dot, the mechanic would saunter into your home as if it were his, wrapping you in his arms and lavising you with sweet words and kisses. And every Thursday, without fail, the clock on the wall seemed to mock you as time slowly marched on.

‘Earth Angel’ played over your small, crappy radio on the window sill, you softly humming along and swaying to the melodic music when you finally felt the breeze of the outside air and heard the front door burst open and closed again, Kit’s heavy footsteps carrying him to you.

This was a ritual that the two of you had carried out for months. You met Kit on a date, ironically enough, with another man, one your father had chosen for you. The evening had inevitably ended with you turning the man away, as you promised your father you would, and Kit sliding himself next to you on a stool in the cozy diner, charming his way straight into your heart. You knew your father would never approve of your love affair with Kit. ‘Greasemonkey’ your father would mumble whenever you were with him while Kit filled his car with fuel, the pair of you sharing stolen glances and secret smiles all the while.

You were broken out of your thoughts when Kit’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head nestling comfortably in the crook of your neck.

“Smells good,” he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck, swaying along with you to the music. The gravy you had prepared bubbled on the stove while your little egg timer dinged, signaling to you that the chicken you had been cooking was finally ready, and Kit reluctantly let you out of his arms. He watched as you carefully pulled the tray from the oven, turning off the gas before the baking tray clattered to the stovetop.

“You take such good care of me, suga’,” his accent was clear as the nickname rolled from his tongue, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek, quickly taking the opportunity to pull you away from the food, showering your face in a million tiny, quick kisses as you continued to laugh against him.

“Come on, stop that. Unless you want your dinner to be cold by the time you eat,” you swatted him away, wriggling out of his embrace, a bright smile still painted across your lips as you glanced back to see a pout on his.

Kit whined as you pulled away to begin fussing over plating up dinner, trailing behind you like a puppy desperate for attention, the sound causing another laugh to escape you.

“Missed you today,” he mumbled as he watched you scoop out mashed potatoes and an assortment of vegetables onto the plates, vying to tear your attention away from a dinner seemingly more important than him.

“I missed you too,” you smiled as you reached your hand behind you, searching for his face and cupping his cheek when you found it, stroking your thumb across the expanse without looking up from your task.

Kit huffed as you fretted over the final presentations of your dish, pressing himself closer to you once again, his hands finding their way to your hips. “C’mon, doll. Just one little kiss?”

Your smile burned brighter as you turned around to face him, spinning in his arms and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, turning away again just as quick, just when Kit began to melt into your touch.

Your hands gripped at the edges of the dinner plates, showing off your creation as Kit backed away to allow you the space to face him without the roast dinners smashing across the floor.

“Dinner is served,” you grinned up at him proudly as you made your way to the dining table, setting the plates down.

Kit huffed once again as you settled yourself in your chair, prepared to tuck into the meal as soon as Kit sat down. He grabbed the back of his chair, tugging it to your side of the table before sitting himself mere inches from your side, grinning at you cheekily as he dragged his plate towards his new spot, “much better.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him as he apparently forgot about his hunger, and the food in front of him that could satiate it, as he sighed contentedly at the sound of your laugh, better music to him than anything that could play from the radio. He would have been happy to simply stare at you all night, admiring the features that adorned your face, but a rumble from his stomach, accompanied by a pang of painful hunger, broke him out of his love drunk stupor.

“Come on, lover boy,” you encouraged, pushing his fork to where his hand rest on the table. “Eat up.”

Kit practically guzzled down his dinner, eager to have you against him again, despite only being a few inches away. He soaked up the last drops of gravy with a piece of bread that had been pushed to the side, impatiently finishing off his plate as you pushed your own away from you.

“Thank you, baby,” he smiled at you as he finally wolfed down the last of his food, turning to face you. “Best damn chicken I’ve ever had,” whether Kit was exaggerating for your benefit or not, his words still brought a blush to your face as you moved to clear up the plates, but Kit’s hand shot out to your arm to stop you.

“Nuh uh, you go get yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll sort this out,” of course, what Kit meant by that was spraying the plates with the warmest water your boiler could provide within a few seconds of impatient waiting before practically sprinting to your living room to find you sat on the edge of your couch, just as eagerly waiting for Kit’s return as he was to get back to you. The dishes could wait until the morning.

You quickly crawled into Kit’s lap once he was situated on the couch, a groan leaving his lips as you crashed yours against them.

This was all you had ever done during your Thursday nights and stolen moments when no one was glancing. Kit was far from pure when you had met, of that you were well aware, and while he assured you that he was more than content to just have your lips on his, anxiety still had a tendency to creep in and gnaw at you at the thought of him needing more. It wasn’t that you were waiting to intertwine yourself with someone in marriage, like so many expected of you, but more simply that you had been waiting for the right person, your knight in shining armour, your prince charming to sweep you off your feet. And while you wholeheartedly believed that Kit was truly the one you had been saving yourself for, a feeling of insecurity still wrapped itself around your heart and squeezed whenever you dared to imagine Kit seeing you in such a position. But now, as you moulded yourselves against each other, you were delighted to find that the only feeling that filled you during that moment was elation and butterflies. And so, with your heart pounding against your ribcage so rapidly you were sure it was about to burst out of your chest, you allowed your hand to trail ever so slowly down Kit’s chest, creeping under his white t-shirt when you reached the hem and splaying your fingers over his smooth skin.

You felt Kit’s muscles contract at your touch, a near-whimper leaving his mouth as he pulled his lips away, his forehead bumping against yours and allowing it to rest there as his head lulled forward.

You allowed your hips to begin slowly grinding into his, finding yourself unable to speak the words that you finally wanted to say, your mouth running dry at the prospect of the night ahead.

“Suga’, you don’t have to do that,” Kit’s hands stilled your hips, his voice unmistakably higher, your movements obviously having some sort of effect on him.

“I want to,” you assured him, pushing past his grip to continue your motions, Kit’s head falling right back at the sensation of you grinding against his lap.

“We don’t have to,” Kit insisted again, determined to not allow the growing stiffness in his pants to cloud his judgement.

You shushed him gently, allowing your still hand to begin running along the skin under your fingertips, almost hesitantly, as your hips ground down harder.

“I want to,” you repeated, feeling Kit’s growing length beneath you as you continued to toy with the skin of his abdomen, the muscles there jumping under your touch. “I’m ready now. I want you to be my first, Kit. Please.”

Kit’s hesitancy quickly began to dissipate as you pleaded with him, surging forward to capture you in a bruising kiss as you wrapped around each other, the line where you stopped and Kit started blurring as the kiss consumed you both.

“We really don’t have to,” Kit assured you again, his actions in contrast to his statement as his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, kissed and sucking at the skin there until dark purple blotches bloomed in his wake.

“Wanna,” was all you could manage out as Kit’s efforts made you weak, a high-pitched whine coming out as he sucked at the spot below your ear, smirking against your skin at your reaction.

“That feel good, doll?” You nodded rapidly as you urged him to continue, your hands weaving into his dark, wavy locks, holding him in place.

Kit continued for what felt like a blissful eternity, marking your body as his as your grinding motions slowly worked you both up, a wet patch forming as you leaked onto your underwear. Kit eventually tore himself away from your neck, leaving one last sweet kiss there.

“Come on, I want you to be more comfortable for this,” Kit encouraged you to cling to him before standing up, bringing you with him, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist while your fingers dug into his broad shoulders. Kit manouvered through your house, taking the path to your bedroom that he had so many times before for late-night cuddles and sweet nothings whispered between you both in the dark.

When you reached your room, you felt the soft mattress of your bed hit your back, Kit tumbling down after you, hovering above you, his forearms propping him up as his fingers reached to play with a lock of your hair.

“You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Kit reminded you, his words whispered as he looked at you splayed out beneath him. The faint glow of your lamp illuminated his face in a soft golden hue, and your eyes nearly teared up at his sincerity.

You hummed out an agreement, reaching up to once again pull his mouth to yours. The kiss was softer than the one you shared in your living room just moments before. It was a kiss full of love and promises of the future, one that seemed to shine a light on the entirety of your future with Kit by your side.

“It might hurt a bit, doll,” Kit warned you, his hand slowly trailing down from your hair, passed your waist and your thighs, to the hem of your dress, giving you every chance to intervene. You never did. “Gotta get you ready first.”

Kit continuously looked up at you as his hand snaked its way under your dress, wathcing for any signs of hesitancy or regret. When he found none, his fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear, deftly pulling them down your legs until they slipped off and hung from his fingers. He stared at them for a moment, admiring the white lace that adorned the piece of fabric, before tossing them somewhere behind him to be moved to the clothes hamper sometime in the morning, much like the dishes now gathered in your sink.

Kit took his time with your skirt, moving it slowly up your legs and showing no shame in cherishing the sight of every inch of skin he hadn’t seen before, his eyes practically blowing wide to the size of dinner plates when the soft plush of your thighs were revealed to him. Eventually the skirt of your dress was pulled to your waist, the barest flesh of your stomach on display for him, but Kit was much more interested in what lay just beneath it.

You could feel your skin burning up and most likely flushing beetroot red as Kit took you in, the most private of areas that no one before him had seen in this context.

Kit’s fingers immediately went in search of your clit, grinning down at you when he felt the little bundle of nerves slip under his fingers and you let out a whine that was so beautiful to him that it only confirmed his theories that you were an angel sent down from the heavens, just for him.

The pleasure that shot through you at that moment nearly made you scream. You had noticed the tight bundle before, of course. Perhaps even experimented with proding at it, on occasion. But the sensation you brought yourself could never be compared to the one you were feeling as Kit’s thumb continuously stroked over it in slow circles.

“That feel good, suga’?” he asked, staring dreamily down at you, engraving every contort of pleasure on your face to his memory, while you were only able to nod at his words.

Your voice finally found it’s way back to you as one of Kit’s fingers slowly slid inside of you, stilling once it reached his second knuckle, allowing your body to adjust as you screamed out in pure pleasure. “Holy fuck, Kit,” you weren’t normally one to swear, but you figured that moment was a good a time as any. Kit’s smile only beamed brighter at your reaction, experimenting by withdrawing his finger from you, now glistening in your wetness, before slowly pumping it back in.

“Gotta build you up first,” Kit’s words were hoarse and whispered out, his voice gravelly, and the thought that merely touching you did that to him shot excitement through you, your face flushing red until it reached down to your chest, past the neckline of your dress.

Kit noticed your reaction, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead, trailing more down the bridge of your nose to the tip, before finally landing a tender kiss onto your lips. “You look so pretty. Always so pretty for me.”

Kit’s words did nothing to calm the evergrowing blush spreading through your body, especially when his next thrust included a second finger. Your body jolted forward, your redenning face finding solace in burying iself into Kit’s chest as you were unable to hold back a soft moan, embarassment flooding you at the noise.

“Oh, baby. Don’t be embarrassed, please,” Kit cooed softly, coaxing your face out of the comforting material of his shirt, raising your chin to meet his eyes. “You sound so beautiful, doll. Don’t hide away from me. Please.” Kit’s affirming words were accompanied by his thumb landing on your clit while his fingers continued their ministrations, each thrust causing it to rub the nerves there, drawing more quiet moans and whines from your lips, and Kit savoured every one.

Kit’s free hand found its way to your back, fiddling with as much material of your dress that he could gather without forcing his hand under you. “Can I?” His eyes were pleading, the unspoken question hanging in the air, and you nodded slowly. You sat up to better allow him to pull the zipper of your dress down your back. He peeled the dress from your body slowly, allowing his eyes to wander over every plane and curve, before you were finally bared to him in nothing but a bra, which he quickly unclipped, throwing both articles of clothing to join your underwear on the floor.

You then lay fully bear beneath Kit, while he remained fully clothed, an injustice you sought to fix as your hands toyed with the hem of his shirt before quickly pulling it up in a sudden surge of confidence, Kit aiding you in wrestling it over his head before he moved on to his grease-stained work trousers. The course navy material was hurriedly stripped from his legs, leaving him in just his stark white briefs, his hardness now clearly visible beneath the thin material. Kit’s hands reached for his waistband, but your own stopped him.

He looked up at you with worry evident in his eyes, a frown pulling his eyebrows together. “We can stop if you don’t want to-”

You quickly cut his words off, shaking your head, your eyes remaining trained on his obvious bulge. “No. No, it’s just…” you trailed off your sentence, your bedding suddenly very interesting in the heat of your mortification as Kit waited for you to continue, “I want to do it.”

A soft smile once again graced Kit’s plump lips, his hands guiding your uneasy ones to were the waistband rest on his hips. “It’s okay, darlin’. Take your time.”

You slowly pulled the tight material downwards, Kit’s cock immediately sprining out and slapping against his stomach. You gave a surprised yelp at the sudden movement, eliciting a chuckle from Kit along with a relieved sigh at the relief from the confines of his trousers and briefs.

You hesitantly outstretched your hand, reaching for the bulbous pink tip of the appendage as you looked on in wonder. It wasn’t until you met Kit that you wondered what one might look like, let alone having seen one before.

The tip of Kit’s cock was slick with precum and it twitched in your hand as your thumb slipped over the heated skin, Kit’s reaction of a low groan earning a worried stare from you, immediately retracting your hand.

“Did- did I do something wrong?” Kit’s frown at your question encouraged you to reach for his cock again, this time wrapping your hand around the length of it. “Was that a good sound?”

“A very good sound, doll,” Kit assured you, rapidly becoming lost in his own pleasure as your hand explored him, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder, letting out a sharp whine as you gave him an experimental squeeze. You couldn’t help but grin a little as you heard the pace of Kit’s breath pick up next to your ear, precum oozing from his tip in a steady stream, coating your hand.

“Wanna be inside you,” his words were breathless and strained as he voiced his desires, a fine sheen of sweat quickly collecting on his forehead as the pressure within him began to build. “You ready for that, baby? It’s okay if you’re not.”

You offered Kit a reassuring smile, attempting to ease his constant worry as you guided him to your entrance, his cock sliding through your slit and collecting your slick, earning a soft whimper from you at the stimulation. “I’m ready, Kit. I swear.” Kit nodded once, his fretting dissipating slightly as he finally eased himself into you.

Your hands immediately went in search of something to cling to, settling on scraping your nails down Kit’s shoulders, dragging angry red lines down with them, as he slowly pushed himself into you. You clung to Kit, inside and out, as his whole body stilled, his cock twitching in anticipation that Kit couldn’t reign in, barely an inch passed the tip inside of you and yet you burned in a pleasurable pain as you stretched to accommodate him.

Kit remained unmoving inside of you, waiting for your signal to continue, and when you gave it, he practically collapsed against you, his lips brushing yours. “I promise I’ll be genle,” he made sure to keep that promise as he slowly pulled out from you before slowly thrusting back in, each tiny movement sending you into a sea of ecstasy that seemed to stretch on forever. Little by little, he fed more of his cock into you until he bottomed out, the flesh of his balls swinging gently against you as he finally filled you to the brim, your mouth hanging open in a constant, silent scream as your body tore itself apart between pain and pleasure.

The prickling pain only ceased when you eventually encouraged Kit to begin moving his hips, blunt pain melding into blinding pleasure as he nudged a spot inside of you that ripped a scream from your lungs. Kit knew what spot he hit, even if you didn’t, but his wolfish grin gaveway to the fact that he knew precisely what he was doing.

Your nails continued to rake down Kit’s back, coloured a more bright red than the same milky complexion as the rest of his body. In fear of breaking skin, your hands began to roam again until they made contact with his soft curls, a light tug on Kit’s hair forcing a groan of his own out.

“Fuck, suga’. Do that again,” his tone was practically a pleading beg, his accent thick and sending sporadic shivers down your spine as Kit’s thrusts momentarily grew sloppier at the pull of his hair. Your fingers weaved themselves deeper into Kit’s locks at his encouragement, winding into the thick curls before pulling again, harder, and the moan he let out was practically pornographic, something that sounded as if it belonged in those ‘new-age’ films your parents condemned right to hell. You needed to hear more of it.

Your hips began bucking up to meet Kit’s as you reached to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Kit’s eyes slipped closed as he found himself becoming lost in you, propelling straight into pleasure undisovered even by him. Perhaps it was that you were now the one beneath him that heightened it.

Kit’s lips trailed to your jaw as he lay sprawled atop you, practically humping against you in shallow thrusts as you felt a band in your stomach begin to tighten.

“Kit…” your eyebrows knit together as the foreign feeling in your lower abdomen only grew, attempting to shove Kit away by his shoulders to ensure he heard your concerns. “Something feels weird.”

Kit practically had to tear himself away from you, glancing down to where your thighs shook and trailing to where his cock bulged inside of you, his hand reaching, almost instinctually, to press down on it, causing your whole vision to flash with stars.

“It’s okay, doll. Just give into it. I’m here, I’ve got ya. Just let go,” with Kit’s words, his spare hand worked at rubbing tight circles against your clit, every feeling flowing into one until all you could feel was Kit.

Your walls constricted around him as you felt the coil in you snap loose, intense, whiteout pleasure overtaking every nerve, every cell in your body. This triggered Kit’s own release as he spilled inside you, a mixture of your cum dripping out past his cock, mingling between your thighs.

Kit was practically panting as his head fell to your chest, his body forced up and down with every heavy breath you took. You hardly noticed when Kit pulled out, or when he started panicking over his cum spilling out of you. You were dead to the world, in a state of pure bliss.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” Kit’s words were interrupted by gasps for breath, still trying to regain a hold of himself as his had twitched towards you, as if he planned to scoop his cum out of you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” his eyes looked up to yours through thick lashes, a pleading look ready to placate whatever anger you felt towards him in that moment, but all he was met with was your glazed-over eyes and tired smile.

“‘S okay,” you looked down at him through hooded eyes, smiling dopely, barely aware of the implications of his words, feeling as though Kit had put your brain through a blender and left you mindless and happy.

Your body gave a startled jolt as Kit’s weight dipped the mattress beside you, not even having realised he had gotten up, now holding a damp cloth and the radio from your kitchen while sporting a lazy grin.

“It’s somethin’ to worry about tomorrow,” his lips pressed against your temple as his wandered back down to your dripping mess, swiping through it with the warm hand towel.

Your bedroom looked like a bomb hit it, with Kit’s clothes, yours, and then the towel that thoroughly needed a wash sprawled across the carpet.

The radio had looped back to ‘Earth Angel’, the very song that was playing on the old rusty jukebox in the town’s diner when you first laid eyes on Kit Walker. Kit’s arms wrapped around you as you dreamily sang along to the music, replacing some words with hums, but Kit would’ve given more money than his house was worth just to hear you sing that song that made him think of you everytime he heard even a second of it.

He pulled you into his chest, crading your body in his strong arms and large hands. You felt dizzy and warm and loved. Your lips trailed from Kit’s chest to his neck, planting light kisses before suddenly sucking harshly, soothing the red that you left there with your tongue as Kit looked down at you, shocked and puzzled.

“It’s only fair,” your words were mumbled from your near sleep-state as your fingers grazed the violently blooming bruises across your neck and chest that would take nearly your whole makeup collection to conceal from prying eyes. Kit seemed almost relaxed as your lips explored his neck.

You fell into the most deep and peaceful sleep you could ever recall that night, yours and Kit’s bare bodies clinging to each other as, even in your dreams, your minds both raced with thoughts of one another.

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