#y'all know exactly who the fuck you are

[thegardengrows-infrozenrain]

love seeing eddsw*rld fans liking my content.

like um... no? bye!

[fallloverfic]

I love singNsong again reminding people in Side Story that Dokja wanted other people to read TWSA (he wrote reviews and comments! It was his first wish), and he only stopped bothering because people harassed him for it. He didn't gate-keep the story. When he's avoiding talking to Sangah about it at the beginning of ORV, it's because he knows what happens when he tells people about the story, not because he's gate-keeping it from her. He notes he's not proud of his hobby (likely because he's been bullied all through his life, including for reading the thing he loves): he finds it embarrassing to talk about, and better respects her studying Spanish in her free time (learning another language is a generally accepted thing in society). He assumes she won't care or will look at him funny (or worse) for when she learns about the novel he's into.

Basically anyone writing "let's gatekeep ORV" posts because of the anime announcement or because they dislike the manhwa or some other weirdness, y'all are the villains in the scenario.

The literal climax of the story is about sharing ORV with as many people as possible. What story were y'all reading?

[shiroselia]

At this point I genuinely think I might be the bitch who has asked themselves the most questions about this game

Especially the weirdest and most specific

[angelfacemjj]

All the other songs in the themed playlist wondering wtf is he doing there:

Michael Jackson with his sudden appearance that has nothing to do with the situation (he don't know what's going on either):

[gregoftom]

oh they fr had bitchnasty sex after this

[cocoabeloved]

just a quick reminder - absolutely NO joe alwyn slander/hate is welcome or allowed on my blog. it's frankly exhausting seeing how much swifties villianize him simply because of his break up of taylor. you don't even know him. neither do i, which is why i'm not going to pretend like i do. if you don't like what i said, that's respectfully not my problem. just leave the poor man alone, where's your human empathy god.

HEAVY rant down in the tags so beware.

[jonathanbyersphd]

hi! im curious, what do you think nancy’s reaction would be if lonnie byers came back s5?

She's going to kill that mother fucker

In all seriousness though, personally the only way I see Lonnie coming back is to die. Like whether they finally have him save Jonathan like he was supposed to or get the Bob treatment in s2 I do not see that man leaving s5 alive.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand. I think that if the writers choose to involve Nancy and if she has any interaction with Lonnie she's going to be very skeptical bordering on hostile. I mean she openly called him an asshole in s2 and that was before her and Jonathan started dating. And she very much loves her boyfriend and knows that Lonnie is a major source of hurt for him (Me, openly manifesting protective Nancy Wheeler)

Beyond that, I think or hope that we're going to see her support/comfort Jonathan with whatever messy emotions he's dealing with.

But considering everything else that's happening. Having the scenario work out this way feels like a pipe-dream. Like to me at least, Jonathan finally feels integrated back into The Byers Family but this is a heavily Byers-centric storyline and I just do not know how they'd do it justice with everything else that needs to happen in s5

[wolf-skins]

nvm the americans in the notes going “i live in america you don’t want privatized healthcare” are normies and fine it’s the fucking americans going LISTEN HERE YOU FUCKS

americans stop pretending you’re the main characters in the story and eat my entire ass

[livingintheupsidedown]

you know what's crazy? i've made people i genuinely consider friends on this website that are like 4000 miles away and i care about them more than people i see on a regular basis

[dredshirtroberts]

listen. I know my family is bad at communication and acknowledgement of receipt of Thing but when the one thing that consistently happens semi-annually is that I get fussed at for not confirming I received something, it irks me a smidge.

Like if I'm expected to always confirm "Hey I got your [communication/gift]" then why aren't they doing it back? Especially considering the communication in this instance has really actually very important information they will want to know if they want to stay in contact with me.

Like????

Even if I'd just gotten a "K" in response, like. at least it would have let me know they got the damn thing. I sent this email TWO WEEKS AGO and only one person responded - and it was practically immediate too. Like... i know folks are busy, i know shit's going on. I get it. But it would help me feel so much less like I'm suddenly a pariah in the family out of nowhere if like one of the people I'd sent this to had just responded in some way shape or form.

I'd have answered a phone call - i wouldn't have liked it, but i'd have done it. A letter in the mail to my current address even. a message in a bottle probably wouldn't get to me because i'm pretty far from the beaches of the great lakes, and also they're even farther, but like. something right?

my sister at least confirmed she got it and just forgot to respond. i imagine that's what happened with everyone else because we have the same mental illnesses and look. i do it too. but also? also?? i was hounded to respond quickly to things, i was told off every time i wasn't responding within a half hour of any communication. I was asked instantly the next time they saw me if I'd gotten it, even if i hadn't had a chance to see the thing yet.

So forgive me, family, if I'm a little peeved off that all y'all are allowed to "forget to respond" for two whole fucking weeks and then a few extra days (because it's been 2 weeks, 3 days exactly) when i can't let something sit in the mailbox for 2 days because i couldn't get to my mailbox easily while living on my own without getting a phone call or text or email that there should be something waiting in there for me.

*enraged screeching*

[five-one-two-station]

At this point I am convinced some people are watching this show solely via the subtitle files, because that's the only thing that explains drastically misunderstanding everything that's not spelled out in dialogue to this extent.

Honestly some of the most embarrassing mass failure of media literacy I've ever seen. It's not even complicated stuff, it's basic text comprehension and story fluency.

- No, Caitlyn's "I know!" is not anger at being called out; she's saying she is very, very painfully aware of what she's done wrong. Watch it again.

- No she didn't take the guards away or go to the cell to have sex with Vi. TF?!?

It was Vi who initiated; Caitlyn was surprised she did.

She pulled the guards away to help Vi if/when she chose to do what she knows her well enough to know she probably would. Vi makes her choice - Caitlyn doesn't "let" her, she just supports it, because it's Vi's choice to make.

Vi has no idea she's done this until after, it doesn't affect her "agency" at all. That's not what any of those words mean!

- She did this as a direct acknowledgement of and response to Vi's previous criticisms.

You are supposed to be able to make the very, very minimal leap of imagination required to understand what the show is telling you here; that she is genuinely sorry, genuinely committed to getting her shit together, and that she has heard and received every word that Vi has told her.

The reason this gesture is so important is that it demonstrates she's now going out on a limb to put herself, her resources, and her privilege to work for the greater good.

And the reason Vi reacts the way she does is that she understands all of this immediately.

You should not need the show to sit you down and spell this out to you step by step Barney the Dinosaur style.

- She works very hard and sacrifices quite a lot to try to do right by people after fucking up so badly before, but not before very explicitly acknowledging that she can't undo the harm she's already done. And this isn't even an inference thing, she actually even says this bit out loud twice, and you still somehow missed it.

- For $5, what do you think the show was suggesting by having Sevika take up her seat, her final costume have no Enforcer uniform elements, and having her allude to an ongoing struggle. Come on, guess.

I am loathe to call people stupid just because some tv show stuff sailed over their heads, but... y'all are legitimately testing that. This is not exactly The Holy Mountain or something, it is very straightforward storytelling.

And just... I mean why would you be this loud about anything without making sure you didn't have it ass backways first?!? In public!?!? 💀

You guys, you have to watch shows to know what is happening in them.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Hey so like many of you, I saw that article about how people are going into college having read no classic books. And believe it or not, I've been pissed about this for years. Like the article revealed, a good chunk of American Schools don't require students to actually read books, rather they just give them an excerpt and tell them how to feel about it. Which is bullshit.

So like. As a positivity post, let's use this time to recommend actually good classic books that you've actually enjoyed reading! I know that Dracula Daily and Epic the Musical have wonderfully tricked y'all into reading Dracula and The Odyssey, and I've seen a resurgence of Picture of Dorian Gray readership out of spite for N-tflix, so let's keep the ball rolling!

My absolute favorite books of all time are The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Classic psychological horror books about unhinged women.

I adore The Bad Seed by William March. It's widely considered to be the first "creepy child" book in American literature, so reading it now you're like "wow that's kinda cliche- oh my god this is what started it. This was ground zero."

I remember the feelings of validation I got when people realized Dracula wasn't actually a love story. For further feelings of validation, please read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There's a lot the more popular adaptations missed out on.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is an absolute gem of a book. It's a slow-build psychological study so it may not be for everyone, but damn do the plot twists hit. It's a really good book to go into blind, but I will say that its handling of abuse victims is actually insanely good for the time period it was written in.

Moving on from horror, you know people who say "I loved this book so much I couldn't put it down"? That was me as a kid reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Picked it up while bored at the library and was glued to it until I finished it.

Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie was also a childhood favorite of mine. Next time someone bitches about Woke Casting, tell them that the original 1911 Peter Pan novel had canon nonbinary fairies.

Watership Down by Richard Adams is my sister Cori's favorite book period. If you were a Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole or Wings of Fire kid, you owe a metric fuckton to Watership Down and its "little animals on a big adventure" setup.

A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry was a play and not a book first, but damn if it isn't a good fucking read. It was also named after a Langston Hughes poem, who's also an absolutely incredible author.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a book I absolutely adore and will defend until the day I die. It's so friggin good, y'all, I love it more than anything. You like people breaking out of fascist brainwashing? You like reading and value knowledge? You wanna see a guy basically predict the future of television back in 1953? Read Fahrenheit.

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee are considered required reading for a reason: they're both really good books about young white children unlearning the racial biases of their time. Huck Finn specifically has the main character being told that he will go to hell if he frees a slave, and deciding eternal damnation would be worth it.

As a sidenote, another Mark Twain book I was obsessed with as a kid was A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Exactly what it says on the tin, incredibly insane read.

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin is a heartbreaking but powerful book and a look at the racism of the time while still centering the love the two black protagonists feel for each other. Giovanni's Room by the same author is one that focuses on a MLM man struggling with his sexuality, and it's really important to see from the perspective of a queer man living in the 50s– as well as Baldwin's autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain.

Agatha Christie mysteries are all still absolutely iconic, but Murder on the Orient Express is such a good read whether or not you know the end twist.

Maybe-controversial-maybe-not take: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov is a good book if you have reading comprehension. No, you're not supposed to like the main character. He pretty much spells that out for you at the end ffs.

Animal Farm by George Orwell was another favorite of mine; it was written as an obvious metaphor for the rise of fascism in Russia at the time and boy does it hit even now.

And finally, please read Shakespeare plays. As soon as you get used to their way of talking, they're not as hard to understand as people will lead you to believe. My absolute favorite is Twelfth Night- crossdressing, bisexual love triangles, yellow stockings... it's all a joy.

and those are just the ones i thought of off the top of my head! What're your guys' favorite classic books? Let's make everyone a reading list!

[thelaundrybitch]

Why?

Because it's easier to say when it comes out as a scream 😘

Sniped

Turtle Doves.

I have been shot right through the heart with all the recent Sniper Donnie artwork that has popped up.

And I was inspired by @donathan 's and @t-annuki 's artwork to write this little ditty.

Also, I need to give a shout-out to the amazing @sharpwindow for assisting with a few parts that I was unsure about. This is my first time writing about turts with big guns.

Well... You know what I mean.

Without further ado...

18+ content - for mature audiences only

Warning: Guns, shooting, blood, legstraps, and a thirsty bitch

SFW & GN Reader

Reblogs only, please!

Sniped

He was the most badass out of all of them.

And now he was hunting you.

Decked in all black, you followed the man that had pulled you from the shipping container full of smuggled humans.

Smuggled dead humans.

You owed him your life and told him you’d do anything he asked.

And all he asked was that you follow him back to the safety of the rebel base.

You were given the rundown on the degenerate that was trying to take out the rest of humanity as you changed into a full set of tactical gear like his, and a black hat to cover your head that would hopefully conceal your identity.

But it hadn’t worked. 

He had found you the second you set foot off the wharf.

The shadows of the shipping containers became your best friends as you followed your savior. Sticking as close to him as possible as he weaved in and out of the metal maze toward the gated perimeter.

The man’s hand darted back and thrust you in front of him as a bullet ricocheted off one of the containers directly behind you. The sniper’s shots were coming in closer and closer as you made your way out of the shipping yard. While being pushed along, you tried to figure out where the shots were coming from. You knew you needed to keep your head down, but there was no fixed point; it was like they were keeping pace with you!

The man let go as the pair of you finally made it through the front gates of the shipping yard. You paused for a moment and stared into the wreckage that was once known as New York, shocked at the sight of the crumbled buildings while fires burned everywhere.

“Move!” The man yelled, yanking your arm to hide you behind a crushed SUV.

*ping*

The bullet had skimmed your shoulder and hit the big metal plate on the ground behind you. It put a small hole in the thick fabric, but never touched your skin.

“He’s toying with us…” the man mumbled, glaring at the tear in your uniform. ��Let's go.”

The shots continued, keeping up with you no matter how hidden you stayed or how low of a profile you kept. And every time the man tried to lead you in one direction, the sniper sent you in another. There had to be more than one person doing this; snipers didn't move around.

At last, you found yourself being shoved through a doorway of what was once a department store, judging by the ransacked clothing racks, and the smashed jewelry cases.

Shattered glass had you stepping gingerly so you wouldn't slip and end up with an injury. Without warning, the man yanked the hat off your head and grabbed the back of your neck. His nails dug into your flesh as he started to push you toward the back of the building.

Your hands went up to peel his unforgiving grasp, but he growled at you, “Be good,” while he stuffed a gun into your back.

As you were trying to figure out how to get yourself out of your current mess, you heard a splat and felt warmth spray across your neck and cheek.

The death grip loosened, and the man’s hand fell away as he fell to his knees, and face-planted on the hard linoleum flooring; his blood quickly spilling from the gunshot wound from the side of his neck and pooling around the pair of you in a lake of red.

You looked around with dread as an adrenaline rush hit; flight was the only option.

You had no idea where the man had been bringing you, but you knew you had to get out of the sniper's range. However, your mind was so full of panic, you couldn't even register if the shot had come from inside or outside of the building. Weren't you far enough in already, to be out of his range?

You took off at full speed, heading in the opposite direction that the man had been dragging you.

Through tears and an anxiety attack, you couldn’t help but keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for your end to come.

Until you ran right into a mountain of muscle, taking the wind out of you and leaving you a bit disoriented.

An arm shot out around your middle, catching you just as you bounced off of said hard surface and started to fall backward.

Looking up, you saw the huge mutant turtle staring back down at you, concern etched across his face. The tip of his rifle peeked over his shoulder on its strap.

“Woah… Easy there, Sunshine…” the purple-banded turtle spoke softly as he pulled you a bit closer. His eyes scanned you quickly as he checked for any visible injuries.

“You’re the…” you started, but fear had gripped you so tightly that the rest of the sentence refused to leave your lips.

“I’m the one that was sent to retrieve you,” He told you. “Please accept my apology for not getting to you before they did. They threw me a surprise party back in Little Italy.”

Furrowed eyebrows and a flash of confusion made him chuckle.

“I was ambushed,” He explained, with a smirk. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, wiping the side of your face and down your neck gently with a cloth he seemingly pulled out of thin air.

You shook your head as your body began to relax in his embrace. His eyes searched your face for a moment, almost as if he was waiting for something. It was only when you let out a deep, calm breath that he started to pull back.

“There you go…” his voice was full of kindness and reassurance as he stabilized you on your own two feet again. 

“Thank you,” you said, fixing your shirt that had ridden up a bit. “Who was the other guy? And what did he want with me?” You asked, still skeptical of the oversized terrapin in front of you.

“You’ll get answers later. Do you think you’re alright to come with me? I need to get you back to camp where we’re both a lot safer,” he bargained, as he pulled out what appeared to be repelling equipment.

You watched as he gave the harness a good shake before kneeling in front of you. Holding it out for you to presumably step into, he looked up at you in question as you faltered. You could see the underlying urgency written across his face even though he sat there patiently awaiting your response.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and stepped forward and into the harness. You figured he would’ve killed you a long time ago if that had been his original intention.

The kindness on his face dropped to a deadly serious expression as he made quick work of clipping, strapping, and tightening the gear to fit your frame. He was actually quite attractive.

But that could also be the skin-tight, black tee and all the equipment strapped to his hard-muscled body talking.

He put his knee up and tapped right below the legstrap that held a knife to the outside of his thigh. 

*Thirsty Bitch activated*

*ahem* He cleared his throat, bringing your brain back online.

“I need you to step up and swing a leg over my shell. There’s a lip back there for your footing,” He explained, the corner of his mouth tugging upward while a curious but knowing gaze assessed your reaction to him.

Face burning in embarrassment at being caught ogling, you did as he asked. His hand came back to grab onto your leg, assisting your opposite foot to the other foothold.

“Good. Now I need you to clip yourself in. The three big clips on the front of the harness. Then screw them tight,” he ordered.

His hands came back and stabilized both your legs as you clipped yourself onto what appeared to be a shield over his shell. “Done,” you told him, as you gave the last clip a twist.

“I need that long strap that's hanging from your harness, in the front,” he informed you as one of his hands left your leg and appeared above the lip of his shell.

No sooner did you place it in his hand, than you found yourself yanked flush against him, letting out a small yelp of surprise in the process.

Chuckling, he apologized. “I need you to be as close as possible for what we’re about to engage in,” he warned, as he stood back up to his full height.

“And what exactly is that?!” You panicked, your knuckles turning white with stress as you held onto the edge of his shell for dear life.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re safe,” he snickered, as he started back from the way he must have come in to head you off earlier.

You could feel the anxiety coursing through your veins. “Do you have a name?” you choked out, between heaving breaths.

“Donatello,” he tells you. “But you can call me Donnie. It’s easier to say when it comes out as a scream.”

If you enjoyed it, Please reblog for others to enjoy🤩💕

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[juleswritesstuff]

Pieces

Just Theo losing his mind over a tiny, little dress

theo nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut (this one's filthy, y'all)

The music blasting through the Slytherin common room was not only filling your ears, but your whole body too. It was running through your veins, every muscle and nerve consumed by the slow rhythm of the bass.

You were moving to the beat without a care in the world, lost in the flow, surrounded by warm bodies moving along the same melody.

Until a pair of hands found place on your hips, a presence making itself known behind you as your back collided with his chest.

You would've recognized that scent everywhere. A smirk grew on your lips.

Bingo.

“Are you trying to kill me, bambolina ?” his smooth voice reached your ears through the loud banging of some song you didn't quite recognize. (babydoll)

His hands were scorching hot on your hips, feeling them through the flimsy fabric of your dress. The way they wanted to touch, to feel, to own.

The grin on your lips widened.

Oh, he was so easy to tease.

You turned around, meeting his eyes. Their usual sky blue had become deeper, a storm in full swing. They were dark, hungry, and yet you could still find that glint of cockiness that never left his gaze.

Theodore Nott was as beautiful as he was devilish.

Good thing you knew how to take him. Metaphorically and physically speaking.

“Don't know what you're talking about” you said, swaying your hips to the sultry rhythm and morphing your expression to one of fake cluelessness.

“Really ? I'm pretty sure you do” the grin on his face was teasing but you could see the light clench of his jaw.

Trying to keep it cool, to keep control.

Unfortunately for him his eyes scanning every inch of your body betrayed him and his illusion of a collected behavior.

“You don't like my dress ?” you asked, getting closer and circling his neck with your arms.

His hands were on your back, traveling up and down, tracing your skin through the fabric, memorizing every nook and curve of your body.

A shiver ran down your spine as he pulled you closer to him, chest to chest.

“You have the nerve to ask me that ?” he uttered, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief.

A chuckle left your lips.

“You sound so affronted, Nott” your hand slipped through his hair, combing them lightly while your bodies kept swaying to the music.

He closed his eyes in bliss, feeling your gentle fingers brush through his brown locks.

And then you pulled. A bit harsher, a bit rougher. Exactly how he liked it.

Theo groaned, his eyes snapping open as the grip on your hips became tighter. 

His forehead touched yours as he leaned closer and closer.

“Oh, you want to play with fire I see” he breathed mere inches away from your lips.

“Maybe I do” you grinned, your tone challenging.

“And what happened to ‘I wouldn't touch you even if you were the last man on earth’, dolcezza ?” he asked teasingly, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. (sweety)

Your cheeks warmed up the slightest bit.

Yes, you and Theo hadn’t started off in the best of ways.

But things changed.

Especially after the most completely unexpected and undoubtedly best fuck of your life, courtesy of a very heated arguement between the two of you that ended with him buried deep inside of you while you basically chanted his name like a prayer.

You wished you could say it was a one time thing, a mistake.

But it wasn’t.

Because soon you found out that no one made you feel better than him.

Your body craved his touch, you couldn't help it.

“Well, I didn't know the wonders that your mouth and your cock were capable of at the time, can you really blame me ?” you asked back, lifting an eyebrow.

“So that's why you chose the tiniest, sexiest dress you own ? Cause you wanted to get your guts rearranged ?” he teased with a shit-eating smirk.

“Who knows” you shrugged your shoulders as a smug smile grew on your lips.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“You'll be the death of me, bambolina” he mouthed right on your lips before leaning in. (babydoll)

And, fuck, that felt both like heaven and hell.

His mouth was soft and rough at the same time. Hungry, needy, pure fire that was consuming you. The taste of nicotine and alcohol mixed with a sweetness that you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was there. And it was addicting.

You wanted more. You always wanted more when Theo was involved.

His tongue teased yours, playing his dirty little games.

Your mind went blank.

“Your room or mine ?” you asked, millimeters away from his lips.

“Whichever is the closest, I don't care” he said hurriedly “Non vedo l'ora di strapparti questo cazzo di vestito di dosso” (I can't wait to rip this fucking dress off of you)

You didn't understand a single thing of the Italian coming out of his mouth as he was busy leaving a trail of eager kisses down your neck, going so slow that your brain started to melt.

You had no idea of how you managed to arrive at your dorm, too engrossed in the feeling of having him so close to you.

But now there you were.

The door closed with a click, and after a second you felt him everywhere.

His hands in your hair, on your face, your neck, hips, thighs. Fucking everywhere.

Your back collided with the wall as he kissed you like he needed air and you were pure oxygen filling his lungs.

“You’re a vixen, you know that ?” he whispered “making me lose my fucking mind moving your hips like that” 

His lips were still on yours, his hands kneading the plush skin of your ass, making you hiss in pleasure.

“Didn’t know I only needed a dress to make you go ballistic, Nott” you muttered with a chuckle as he decorated your throat with slow, wet kisses. 

“I couldn’t give less than a shit about the dress, Y/n. You are the one making me go fucking feral, not this stupid piece of fabric” he groaned against your skin.

“Then rip it the fuck off of me, why don’t you ?” you said, whimpers leaving your mouth as Theo found the most sensitive spot on your neck, starting to tease it with his tongue, his teeth and that sinful mouth of his.

You felt his smirk right on your skin.

“As you wish, bambolina”

 In a heartbeat you heard cloth being torn, shredded to pieces.

The air suddenly hitting your skin made goosebumps appear all over your body.

Your eyes snapped to his. The fire in them almost burned you, matching your own.

Lust and hunger filled every cell of your being, seeing the poor dress resting in pieces on the floor.

Because Theo had literally ripped it off.

You didn’t think this man could get any hotter. Guessed you were fucking wrong.

“Cazzo, sei una visione Y/n'' he whispered breathlessly. (Fuck, you're a vision Y/n)

His eyes ran all over your figure, taking in every curve, every inch of your body, imprinting it in his memory forever.

Then he began his journey of torture.

He started with his lips on yours, nibbling and sucking slowly, seductively, proceeding along your jaw, traveling down and reaching your neck, kissing the skin that was already turning a dark red from his previous attentions.

He stopped briefly at your shoulder, delicately removing your bra as the pads of his fingers brushed your skin tenderly.

He left his marks all over you.

On your shoulder, your collarbones, on your breasts teasing your sensitive nipples with his tongue before sucking gently, grazing them with his teeth and sending bolts of electricity throughout your entire body.

His lips were soft, but they left a burning path everywhere they touched.

Moans and whimpers left your mouth with each and every caress of his skin on yours.

He kept giving attention to every single centimeter of your figure, going down and down until he sank on his knees.

The sight of him kneeling in front of you with that deep, dark look in his eyes turned you on like nothing ever did before.

“This might be my favorite angle of you, you know ?” you confessed, your fingers combing through his brown waves.

You felt him grin against your hip bone, kissing it right after.

“Is it ?” his tone was teasing, playful, as he traced your skin with his lips “when I’m on my knees ?” another kiss lingered on your hip “right at your mercy ?” 

“Shit- yeah” you choked out a whimper as his mouth got closer and closer to your core.

The grip on his hair tightened and he let out a deep moan.

“Well, that’s good to know, princess” he said simply “cause this is my favorite place to be. Right between your thighs” and then he left a soft kiss directly on your clothed heat before sliding your panties down your legs.

A needy moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“You're perfect. You're so fucking perfect” he whispered in awe, completely drunk on the sight of your naked body.

“Theo…” you whined.

“Yes, baby ?” 

Fuck, that word made your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Just fucking get to it” you said urgently.

A cocky smile appeared on his face as he started to slowly get up, placing kisses here and there, making his journey back to your lips.

You whined, missing the feeling of his mouth lingering on your most sensitive spot.

“You’re needy” he whispered in your ear, making you shiver.

“You’re torturing me” you bit back, breathless and impertinent.

“Oh, so you can tease me in front of our whole House, but I can’t have my little fun when it’s just us ? Seems a bit unfair, tesoro” he mocked you lightheartedly with the most irritatingly hot smirk. (darling)

“Wipe that smug little smile off your face Nott, I can't stand it” you said, the annoyance in your tone as clear as the lust in it, too.

“Can’t stand it ?” he asked sensually, his breath tickling your ear before looking you in the eyes with that sinful grin that made you go feral “then why don’t you sit on it, bambolina” 

His gaze was dark, the blue of his eyes completely swallowed up by blackness.

The breath got knocked out of your lungs. Hot liquid desire filled your veins.

Your entire body was consumed by him, every single cell screaming his name.

And who were you not to listen ?

“Lay down then” you said with a devilish grin, pushing him backwards until his knees hit the bed frame, forcing him to sit down.

You wasted no time and straddled his hips, your naked body flashed aginst his still clothed one.

“Fucking hell” he mumbled on your mouth as you dived in to kiss him hungrily, tongue brushing his in a filthy dance.

His hands gripped your lower back so tightly you were sure there would’ve been bruises in the shape of his handprints the following day.

And you couldn’t wait to fucking see them.

 “Something wrong, pretty boy ?” you taunted, coating his neck with kisses, swiping your tongue over the skin and making him groan in pleasure.

“I have you naked on my lap, Y/n, nothing could be more right” he said, looking at you directly in the eyes with a smile and his usual cocky attitude.

“Why don’t you take off some clothes too, mh ?” you muttered, breaths away from his lips "Preferably all of them"

“Get rid of them, then” he answered you with a challenging glint in his deep blue eyes, and a sardonic smile.

You smirked, fisting both sides of his shirt and pulling harshly.

Buttons flew everywhere as you ripped the shirt open, finally exposing his perfectly chiseled chest to your eyes. Your hands ran all over his torso, tracing every hard and soft surface with fleeting touches.

God, Quidditch practice really had its benefits.

“Now we’re even” you said, kissing his lips again, referring to the dress he had shredded to pieces not too long ago.

Then your fingers traveled down, reaching the hem of his pants and brushing his half hard cock playfully through the fabric.

He hissed in pleasure, but as soon as you tried to unbutton them he stopped you.

“That can wait, baby. I need to taste you first” he purred in your ear before laying down completely, his back colliding with the soft mattress of your bed.

“Impatient, are we ?” you mocked him lightheartedly, but as soon as you felt his hands on lower back, massaging the soft skin, urging you to crawl on his body and come closer until your core was right in front of him, glistening with desire, the smile on your face was replaced by a moan.

“When it comes to you ? Always” he smiled, leaving a trail of steamy, open mouthed kisses on the tender skin of your inner thighs.

A pathetic sob left your throat.

He was going so achingly slow you were starting to lose your goddamn mind.

“Seems to me that you’re taking your sweet fucking time, instead” you snapped impetuously.

He was teasing you mercilessly, and you couldn’t stand it.

“I’ll take all the time I need if it means that I get to see you being a needy mess before my tongue even touches you” he sneered against your skin, mouth getting closer and closer to where you needed it the most, but never close enough.

“Theo, please” you cried as your hands swiped through his brown locks, spread on the pillow like a halo, eliciting him to do something, anything to give you at least some sweet relief.

“Sei così bella, cazzo” he whispered as his eyes shined with an earnestness that you had never seen in them “e sei tutta per me”. (You're so beautiful, fuck)(and you're all mine)

And then finally, finally he stuck his tongue out dragging it over your folds to get a long awaited taste.

The groan that came out of his mouth sent delicious vibrations to your clit, making your whole body squirm.

“Oh fuck” you moaned as he started to devour you messily.

He ate you out like he had been starving for weeks and you were his first meal, like he was born for it and his place was right there, between your legs. He licked and kissed and sucked all over your sensitive core, pleasuring you like no one else ever could, making you feel everything.

You writhed above him. 

Loud, shaky whines left your lips as he made out with your cunt shamelessly and sloppy, coating his face with your essence and feasting hungrily.

When his lips wrapped around your clit you whailed.

The whole castle probably heared you even through the music of the party that was taking place downstairs, but you couldn’t care less.

Because Theo was beneath you, eating you out so perfectly and filthily that all you could think about was his mouth on you.

“So sweet. You taste so sweet, Y/n” he said right against your throbbing core, making you shiver. Your hands on his hair tightened their grip, using it as leverage to move your hips back and forth faster, desperately.

“Theo- shit, baby-” you couldn’t even talk.

You were close. You were so close that you felt the familiar tension building up, ready to explode.

And apparently he did too, because his mouth started to work faster, licking and lapping at an unforgiving pace.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess on my face” he wrapped his lips around your clit one more time and he sucked, sending you over the edge.

The coil in your tummy snapped, your vision turning white as waves of pleasure washed all over you, making your ears ring and your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

The moans coming out of your mouth were dirty, raw.

The movement of your hips slowed down as Theo kept dragging his tongue over your folds slowly, carefully, licking you clean and paying attention not to overstimulate you, but not letting even one single drop of your sweet essence go to waste.

Once you got down from your high and your brain started to regain its ability to form coherent words you shifted your gaze downwards, finding Theo looking at you while his hands caressed your legs tenderly.

“There you are. I thought I broke you for a second” he smiled, teasing lightheartedly.

You huffed a sneer as you crawled backwards with shaky legs, going back to straddle his hips rather than his face.

“Don't get too confident, Nott. It's not a good look” you bit back with a smile that matched his.

A chuckle left his lips as he lifted his torso to sit up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

He kissed you softly, delicately, making your stomach flip.

“Everything ok ?” he asked on your lips while he tucked a rogue strand of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

And there it was, the thing that made you so confused about Theodore Nott.

It was in moments like these when you forgot that the guy in front of you, who gave you the best head of your life and was an actual fucking excellent lover was the same guy you used to have daily insulting sessions with.

Muggles had a saying, you heard.

‘There's a thin line between hate and love’

And you were sure that that line had been all kinds of blurry since Theo had put his lips on you for the first time.

Or, maybe, even before. You didn't want to think about it. 

The possibilities of that revelation being true made your stomach knot up.

So you put them to the side, and focused back on him.

“Yes” you answered, your fingers buried in the hair at the base of his neck, massaging reassuringly “I’m ok. More than ok, even” 

“How about your legs ?” he asked, placing soft kisses on your shoulder.

“Is this some new way to ask me if I still have some remaining strength to ride you ?” you teased, narrowing your eyes mischievously.

“Would you believe me if I said it isn't ?” he questioned playfully, lifting an eyebrow and tightening his embrace on you.

“Not really, no” you said unconvinced, your face opened up in a smile.

“Guessed so” he shook his head in amusement, his eyes glinting in the dim light of your room.

“Unfortunately for you my legs are sore, so no riding” you admitted, your smile turning smug “but that doesn't mean that you can't fuck me in any other position know to man”

His hands on your hips tightened their grip.

“Is that so ?” he taunted, his eyes turning hungry again, the fire in them reaching the deepest parts of your soul “then tell me bambolina, how would you like me to take you apart tonight ?” 

“However you want” you smirked, leaning in to kiss him again, swiping your tongue on his lower lip before biting the plump skin provocatively “go ahead pretty boy, make me cry on your cock”

His eyes got impossibly darker, hungrier. Ravenous.

“Then get on all fours for me, princess” he rumbled lowly, looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

You wasted no time as you kept your mouth glued to his, getting off his lap and flipping your positions. You crawled backwards a little, Theo following you as he chased your lips until you were completely laying down with him above you.

His hands caressed your hips, moving down to trace the skin of your thigh, making goosebumps appear all over your body.

Your fingers traveled everywhere, feeling the heated skin against your pads. They caressed his chest, his shoulders, his back, until they reached the hem of his pants, unbuttoning them with a swift move.

“Impatient, are we ?” he teased you, using your own words against you.

His lips latched to your neck, one hand on the mattress holding his weight and the other sliding his trousers down together with his underwear.

“Less talking and more undressing, Nott” you urged as your hands went to his hair, massaging his scalp, making him groan.

He pulled away from you just enough to take away his pants completely, leaving him naked.

Your eyes took in his perfectly sculpted lean body, and you clenched your legs unconsciously at the sight of his hard cock.

He didn't say anything to you eyeing him up like you wanted to swallow him whole, he just smirked. But the look in his eyes told you that he knew every naughty little thought you were having in that moment.

Your cheeks heated up, and you turned around facing the mattress propped up on your elbows, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you that flustered.

You had seen him naked countless times, and yet his body still had that maddening effect on you.

The bed dipped with every move he made, getting closer to you again, until you felt his breath on your ear, chuckling.

“Going shy on me now, tesoro ?” he asked playfully, leaving a kiss on that sensitive spot that made you squirm. (darling)

“Shut up” you said weakly, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth leaving a path of steamy kisses along your back, causing your whole body to shiver in pleasure.

He stopped right over the little dimples on your lower back, kissing them tenderly.

“Ready ?” he asked to make sure.

You didn't answer him, you just lifted your ass up, bending your knees and arching your back in the most sinful way you could master.

“Ready” you confirmed with a smug smile, hearing him groan in pleasure.

You turned your head a little, enough to see him stroking his cock at the sight of your exposed cunt, right at his mercy.

“You and your perfect body will be the death of me” you hear him whisper before feeling his hands on your ass.

His tip teasing your entrance made you moan pathetically.

He went slow, so achingly slow that you wanted to cry, feeling him burying himself deeper and deeper inside of you, inch by inch. Until he bottomed out completely, head to base, filling you up so good that you wanted to scream.

“Fuck-” you moaned “fuck, fuck, fuck” broken sobs left your lips as you felt him throbbing inside of you.

“Shit- baby, you're tight” he said through gritted teeth, feeling your warmth around him and trying so hard not to cum on the spot, hearing all the filthy sounds you were making.

“Move” you practically begged “Theo, please. Just move” 

As soon as the words left your mouth his hips started to thrust, setting a slow and steady pace, making you adjust to his size without hurting you.

The head of his cock brushed your cervix with every prod, sending bolts of electricity to every nerve of your body.

But it wasn't enough.

You wanted more. You needed more.

“Harder” you blurted, half begging and half demanding “I'm not gonna break, Theo. Fuck me. Harder” 

Not a word left his mouth, but suddenly you saw stars. His hips snapped ruthlessly inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you scream his name.

You buried your face in the pillows, trying to muffle the sound of your wails. But then you felt Theo’s chest colliding with your back and his arms around your torso, pulling your upper body up with him while he still fucked into you mercilessly.

“Voglio sentirti” he whispered in your ear, breath rugged and broken by the intensity of his hips plunging inside of you “voglio che l'intero cazzo di castello sappia chi è che ti scopa così bene” (I want to hear you)(I want the whole castle to know who's fucking you this good)

You didn't understand a single word coming out of his mouth, but you knew it had nothing to do with the language he was using and everything to do with his cock splitting you in half.

Your body was on fire, every muscle and nerve consumed by pleasure, corroded by lust.

You were close again.

Your arm reached behind you, pulling Theo’s head closer.

The position was awkward, making the kiss even more filthy, a mess of tongues and teeth.

“God- Theo, I'm close” you moaned against his mouth.

One hand holding your body flashed against his, the other going to tease your clit with slender fingers.

You were right there, his fingers drawing circles on that little bundle of nerves faster and faster.

“Cum for me, bambolina” was what he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin as your orgasm hit you.

The world stopped, every single thing ceased to exist except for the exploding pleasure in your veins and the feeling of Theo’s heated and sweaty skin on yours.

The clench of your cunt squeezing his cock sent him over the edge too, painting your walls white while a strangled moan escaped his lips.

Getting down from your high you collapsed on the bed.

With your breath labored and short, your body numb and your head in the clouds you placed your head on Theo's chest as his arm wrapped around you.

Was it weird to cuddle with the guy who used to get on your nerves more than anything else ? Most definitely.

Was it also weird to fuck said guy and wanting to sometime still punch his ridiculously handsome face at the same time ? Absolutely.

Did you care ? Not one bit.

“You owe me a shirt” he blurted out after his breath turned back to normal again, stroking your hair absent-mindedly.

“You owe me a dress” you retorted back, feeling his heartbeat slowing down right under your ear.

“Shopping at Hogsmeade next weekend ?” he asked nonchalantly, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on you.

Your eyes widened beyond measure.

“Pardon ?” your voice went several tones higher than usual, in complete disbelief from the words that had just reached your ears.

“Calm down, bambolina. No need to get all flustered” he chuckled, but rather than mocking it seemed endeared “you'll buy me a new shirt and I'll buy you a new dress. Deal ?” 

You had no idea what to answer.

But in the end you accepted.

“Deal” 

It wouldn't be weird...right ?

He lives in my mind rent free, I can't help it.

Hope you enjoyed 💗

[imaginedisish]

Guess (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the enemies to lovers/hate fucking fic! Thank you to the anon who requested it <3 Sort of inspired by "Guess" by Charli and Billie. Enjoy y'all!

Summary: Logan hates you; you're sure of it. And so, you hate him too. But when you're forced to run drills with him, you're left to guess whether your frustration is genuine...or if it's something else. And it is definitely something else.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!!! MINORS DNI!!!! Thigh riding, oral (m! and f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cockwarming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hate(?)-fucking, enemies to lovers, dom!Logan, kinda?mean!Logan (he gets nice dw), cocky!Logan, forced proximity, rough sex, manhandling, praise kink, reader has hair (no descriptions at all tho), so much sexual tension, afab!/f!reader, some fighting at the beginning, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4083 did I mention this is basically porn without plot

Logan knew exactly how to drive you insane. Knew exactly how to get under your skin. It was infuriating. He was infuriating. Him and his aloofness. He was unapproachable, impossible to talk to. And when you were able to crack his shell—to get him to speak—it was almost always to say something cocky, to be his frustratingly smug self. 

 And, naturally, Scott assigned you and Logan as partners to run today’s combat drills. 

“A-are you sure about this, Scott?” You ask, looking to the front of the gym, where he’s standing. “I usually run drills with Rogue, and we work pretty well to—”

“What is it, princess?” Logan mocks, cutting you off. “Afraid I’ll beat you? Afraid to get your hands dirty for once?”

You roll your eyes. “You are the worst, you know that?” Logan works his jaw, furrowing his brows. He stalks toward you. 

“Save it,” Scott says, hands on his hips, striding between you and Logan. “All you two do is bicker. It’s like watching a married couple fight.” You part your lips, ready to protest, but Scott cuts you off.  “Take your stances.” He looks to Logan, and then to you. “And no using your abilities, understood?” He tilts his head, waiting for you to answer. 

You groan. “Fine. Yes. Understood.” You shake your head, digging your heels into the ground and clenching your fists. 

Scott backs away, nodding to both of you. “On my mark,” he shouts, his voice echoing against the walls of the gym. “Ready,” he says, clicking the stopwatch in his hand. “And…” He trails off. Your eyes search Logan’s face, watching the way he grinds his teeth, the way his brows furrow. Your heart thumps in your chest, blood boiling through your veins. “Go!”

Logan lunges at you immediately, and you dodge to the left. “Here, kitty, kitty,” you tease, smirking, raising your hand and beckoning him closer. He growls, his knuckles white as he lunges at you again. This time, you meet the force of his body with a swift kick to the chest. 

But he grabs your ankle and twists, throwing you off balance. You crash to the ground, and Logan is immediately on top of you. He pins you down, straddling you, his hands gripping your wrists tightly above your head. You grunt, squirming underneath him. He smiles down at you—that shit-eating grin spread wide across his face. 

“What?” He coos, leaning over you, his face just inches from yours. “Cat got your tongue?” You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel the way his thumbs brush gently across the sensitive skin of your wrists. You’re suddenly…confused by how nice the proximity feels, his weight on yours. There’s something relieving about it. You can smell him—musk and pine, leather and denim. What the fuck is this? You think to yourself. 

You shake yourself out of whatever trance you’ve let yourself fall under, and knee Logan swiftly in the groin. He grunts, his hold on your wrists loosening, giving you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, swing to the left, roll Logan over onto his back, and straddle him. 

His hands reach for your hips, but you stop him, gripping his wrists. Your arms shake as he resists your hold. His force, his strength, it hurts—it’s almost too much for you to bear. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, struggling to keep him down. You inhale deeply, concentrating. “N-not letting you w-win.”

He chuckles, slowly but surely overtaking you. “Let go,” he soothes mockingly. “Just let it happen. It’ll feel so good when you let me have this. No more pain.” You shake harder, trembling, heat building uncontrollably in the bottom of your belly. You swallow harshly, trying to ignore the way his words make you feel. “Let me win, princess.”

“N-no,” you protest, your grip on his wrists tightening. But it’s no use. He breaks free, his hands suddenly on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. 

“Too late,” he whispers. He rolls you back over, holding you by the hips, pinning you down to the ground harder than before. “Looks like I won after all, pretty girl.”

You squirm underneath him, bringing your hands to his chest, pushing against him with all your strength. But it’s no use. He doesn’t budge. “Not fair,” you huff, digging your nails into his t-shirt. He groans, and you swear he leans into your touch. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Stop that.” But something in his voice makes you think that maybe he doesn’t want you to. 

“Why?” You ask, squinting your eyes, only digging harder. 

“Goddammit,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “Because you’re gonna have to finish what you start.” His muscles flex as he grabs your wrists with one hand, tearing them from his chest, while his fingers grip your hip tightly with the other. He pins your hands above your head, just like he did before. 

“Time!” Scott yells. But Logan doesn’t let go. He’s still holding you in place, your chest pressed to his. “Logan, time! You two are fucking ridiculous. You need to sort this out!” Scott yells again. Logan loosens his grip on your wrists, but he doesn’t let go. 

“What?” You spit. “You hate me so much that winning isn’t good enough for you?” You shake your head, pulling your wrists free from his grasp. You can feel the tension between the two of you sharpen like a knife. The air is thick and heavy, dizzying. His other hand is still on your hip, his nails digging into your flesh. It stings, but part of you likes it. Part of you doesn’t want him to let go. You secretly hope he leaves bruises, proof that he had touched you. But he hates you—and you’re supposed to hate him. You brush the feelings off and shove them down deep. 

“Get off of her, Logan,” Scott chides, his boots next to your face. “You won. The match is over.”

Logan’s eyes don’t leave yours as he lets go of your hip and sits back on his knees. You push yourself up and walk to the other side of the room, taking a swig from your water bottle. When you turn back around, Logan is still on his knees in the middle of the floor, staring at you. 

“Dick,” you mumble, not truly meaning it as the words fall from your lips. You turn back around and storm towards the doors, water bottle in hand. “I’m done!” You shout. You shove the doors open and head down the hall, away from the gym, away from Logan. 

And then you hear the gym doors swing open, crashing into the walls and slamming closed. A familiar set of footsteps thunders from down the hall. 

“Hey!” Logan’s thick, deep voice calls. You ignore him, entering the foyer and climbing the steps to your room. “I’m trying to talk to you!” He yells, his voice closer now. You get to the top of the landing, turn around, and there’s Logan, just a few steps away.

Your nostrils flare. “What the fuck do you want?” You snap, backing down the hall and towards your room as Logan closes the distance between you and him. Your shoulders hit the wall at the end of the hallway—there’s nowhere left to go. He cages you in, his palms pressing next to either side of your head. 

“I want to talk,” he grits, his face just inches from yours.

You scoff. “Oh, now you want to talk? That’s fucking rich!” You try to push him away, just like you did in the gym seconds ago, but he’s solid. He is made of Adamantium, after all. “Move,” you demand. 

“No,” he spits, pushing into your touch. “What the fuck is going on here?”

You furrow your brows, genuine confusion stretching across your face. “What the hell are you talking about, Logan?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” Sweat beads on his forehead, his muscles twitching as his hands press harder into the wall. He leans closer to you. “You have to feel it too.” 

You search his eyes, his face, for some kind of answer. You shake your head. “We hate each other, that’s all this is!” You insist, digging your nails into his chest. “Now get out of my way.” 

“I don’t think that’s really what you want, pretty girl,” Logan mutters, grabbing your wrists and forcing them above your head.  He closes the distance between the two of you. His forehead presses to yours. “Think you’re just confused.”

“N-not confused,” you stutter, the wetness pooling between your thighs betraying you. “Hate you.” He’s so close, the proximity beyond dizzying. All you can see, all you can smell, all you can feel is Logan. You try to fight the heat shooting down your spine, blossoming in your lower belly. But it’s no use. 

“Yeah?” Logan teases as one of his hands lets go of your wrists, his fingertips trailing down your side. “Then why can I smell this pretty little pussy crying for me, hm?” He bumps into the hem of your shorts, tugging teasingly. “You don’t hate me,” he whispers, his lips suddenly at the shell of your ear. “You fucking need me, pretty girl.”

He bites at the skin under your ear, and you can’t help but moan. “Logan,” you whine, squirming against his hold. You need to reach out and touch him, to feel his skin against yours. You’re melting, bending, breaking down around him. 

Logan lets go of your wrists, his hands grabbing your ass and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you into his room, just a bit further down the hall. He holds you tight with one hand while he opens his door, slamming it shut with his foot. He strides over to his bed and tosses you onto it. 

He crawls onto the bed after you, sitting up on his knees. “Strip,” he commands. “Wanna watch you, sweetheart.”

You swallow, your throat bobbing as you grab the bottom of your tank top and pull it up your body, throwing it to the floor. Logan licks his lips, watching you closely. You tug the bottom of your sports bra next, suddenly nervous. 

“Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises. He nods. “Keep going.” 

Your heart flutters as you tug the sports bra the rest of the way—up and over your head, revealing your breasts. Logan works his jaw, grinding his teeth. You stare at him under hooded eyes, squirming as you work at your shorts and panties. 

But he’s too impatient, pushing you down onto the bed, doing the work himself. He shoves your shorts and panties down your legs and throws them to the side. His lips crash down onto yours, swallowing your moans, his hands running up and down your body. He palms at your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples, pinching roughly. He grabs your hips and rolls you over so that you’re straddling him. You can feel his erection straining against his jeans.

He sits up, his chest pressing to yours as he bites at your lips, drawing blood, kissing you bruisingly. He breaks the kiss to yank his shirt up and over his head. Everything is rushed and frantic, impatient and needy. You can see the starvation in his eyes—the pure, unadulterated hunger.

You lift your hips, working at his belt, sliding it through his belt loops, and throwing it to the floor of his room. You kiss his neck, licking underneath his jaw as you unbutton his jeans and pull down his zipper. Your lips trail the hollow of his throat as you tug at his jeans and boxers. You bite down on his collarbone, and he grunts, his fingers digging into your scalp, pulling your hair lightly. You moan as you continue your path to his chest, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his stomach, yanking his jeans and boxers down as far as you can get them, his cock springing free. 

His arms are spread wide against his headboard. He looks down at you authoritatively, assessing you. “Go on,” he husks. “Suck my cock, pretty girl.” He tilts his head to the side. You swallow at the sight of him, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the base of his erection. “No need to get all nervous on me now, sweetheart.”

You stroke him up and down, and he inhales deeply. “That’s it,” he coaches. He lightly pushes your head down to his cock, and you open your mouth, ready to take him inside. 

You wrap your lips around him, and he throbs inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip, and he grunts, pushing you further down his shaft. You slide down him, his head hitting the back of your throat. He’s massive—you’re not even halfway down and you’re already choking on him. 

“Feels so fucking good,” Logan mumbles as you slide up and back down, his hand gently guiding you. “Such a good girl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His words send a pulse to your core, and you can’t help but grind down on his bare thigh. Logan chuckles darkly. “Want you to make a mess of my thigh, sweetheart,” he rasps, moving his thigh as you take more of him into your mouth. “Take what you need.”

You moan around him, your teeth lightly grazing his tip as you move up and down his length. You grind down on his thigh, spreading your slick. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard, trying to take him even deeper. Your eyes water as his hips buck into your mouth. 

You slide up and down, letting him fuck your face, his hand still gripping the back of your head. But you can feel him holding back, can feel him tensing up. You keep going, his cock twitching in your mouth. “Fuck,” he curses, guiding your head up his shaft. “Gotta stop, beautiful.” Your lips slip from his cock with a pop, and you look up at Logan. 

“Why?” You whisper, kissing his tip teasingly, wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth. 

He whispers your name under his breath before shifting onto his knees and pushing you down into the mattress. “Because I can smell that fucking pussy,” he husks, trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, your stomach. “Could feel her soaking my thigh.” He settles between your legs, spreading them wider with the palms of his hands. There’s something feral in his eyes. He breathes you in hungrily and groans. “Can’t wait any longer. Need to taste you darlin’.”

Logan presses a chaste kiss to your clit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He licks a long stripe through your folds, flicking your clit before gliding back down. “Fuck,” he grunts against you. “Tastes so good. So fucking sweet, pretty girl.” 

He laps at you, his face buried against your cunt. “Lo,” you whine, his fingertips trailing up your inner thigh, finding your folds. “F-feels good,” you stutter. 

“Yeah?” Logan teases, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. “This what you needed?” And then he’s plunging two fingers deep inside you with one sudden thrust. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Your chest heaves as his fingers slip out and pump back in. “Logan,” you whimper, your legs trembling as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles into your clit. It’s so good, but you need more. You need him. “Lo,” you call again, your hands finding his head, your nails digging into his scalp.

He groans against you at the contact, the vibration of his voice rocking through your core. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking roughly. You tug on his hair again, and he grunts. “What do you need, pretty girl?” He mumbles. 

“Y-you,” you stutter, your walls fluttering around his fingers. 

“Think you’ve already got me,” he teases, his fingers sinking deeper—down to his knuckles—hitting that sweet spot inside you. “What do you want, sweetheart? You too fucked out to use your words?”

You moan loudly, his lips wrapping around your clit again and sucking harder than before. His fingers ram into you, plunging deeper hit after hit. “Please,” you beg. “Need more,” you choke. “Need you inside me.”

Logan slides his fingers out of your aching cunt and licks one last long stripe through your folds before climbing up your body. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. “Would’ve eaten you out for hours,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. He smiles against you. “Tasted so good. Gonna need more later, sweetheart.” 

Your heart thunders in your chest at his words. Later. But before you can think too much about it, he’s gripping your hips tightly and rolling you over so that you’re straddling him again. You can feel his erection pressing against your folds. 

“You need me this bad, princess?” He tuts, cocking his head to the side. He nods down to your aching cunt. “Then take it,” he demands, smirking. “Take what you need. Wanna feel you riding me.” You swallow harshly, grabbing his cock and guiding him to your folds. You’re suddenly nervous, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. 

His tip nudges against your entrance, and you shudder involuntarily. You slowly slide down, taking him inch by inch. “Fuck,” you curse, his cock twitching as you sink further. “You’re so—”

But then his hips buck up into yours, forcing you to take him all the way. “Perfect, feels so fucking perfect,” Logan moans as you cry out his name. You throw your head back in ecstasy. He leaves one hand tight on your hip while his other slides up your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples. “Go on,” he husks. “Keep going, pretty girl.”

Your eyes flutter as you slide up his length and sink back down, rolling your hips against his. “S-so deep,” you stammer, taking as much of him as possible. “So good.” 

Logan can’t help but rock against you, his hips bucking up into yours. You can tell he’s holding back—can tell he wants to fuck you into the mattress. So, you pick up your pace, sliding up and down his cock faster. “That’s it, sweetheart,” Logan praises, guiding the roll of your hips. “Doing so good for me.”

His hand slides down your body, slipping between your thighs. His fingertips brush your clit, drawing tight, rapid circles into the bud. Your hips stutter at the contact, your pace faltering. 

“Can’t take it?” Logan tuts, letting go of your clit—both of his hands gripping your hips now. He’s pushing you down, forcing your back into the mattress. “Then it’s my turn, sweetheart.”

Logan wastes no time—his cock is already inside you again. He feels deeper now—stuffed down to the hilt, bottoming out with ease. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, your hands coming up to his biceps as he rams into you. “S-so much,” you whine, his hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit again. Your hips buck into his as he draws circles into the bud. 

“This better?” He asks teasingly. “Needed me to take you the way I wanted, hm?” He presses harder into your clit, his fingers swirling. You moan his name, unable to form a sentence, and Logan smirks. “I know, pretty girl. You needed my cock this whole time, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. Logan pounds into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing across the walls of the room. His pace is reckless, his cock dragging along your walls, pulling out and thrusting back in. “Needed you.”

“That��s right,” Logan rasps, flicking your clit with his thumb, pinching softly. “You just needed me to fuck you.” He pounds into you, faster with every thrust. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, and you know you’re already close. 

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him and taking him deeper. He groans at the feeling, his forehead resting against yours. “Logan, I’m…” You trail off as his pumps grow harder, faster. Your muscles contract and release, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “C-can I come? Please” You finally cry.

Logan smirks. “Let go for me, sweetheart.” But it’s more than permission—it’s a demand. “Wanna feel you come.” His fingers swirl around your clit, his cock twitching inside you, pushing you over the edge. “Such a good girl,” Logan praises. “Don’t hold back.” 

Electricity lights up your spine as the tension cuts like a knife. It feels like a riptide dragging you under its current. Forceful and intense. You try to ride it out, try to come down from your peak, but Logan is still fucking into you. His pace isn’t growing sloppy. He isn’t faltering. He’s still going with ease. 

Your nails dig into his biceps. “Lo,” you whimper, his hips snapping into yours. “I…” You trail off, too overstimulated to speak. But the tension is already building back up, already sparking a fire in your belly.

“It’s okay, darlin’. I’m right here,” he soothes, stroking your clit. “But I’m not done with you yet.” He pumps in and out, still splitting you in two, still stretching you out. “Know you have another one in you.”

“Fuck,” you curse as he slams into you. Your walls flutter around him, your chest heaving with his. “It’s too much,” you choke. 

His lips capture yours, swallowing your moans. “You can do it, pretty girl,” Logan grunts, his pace faltering, his cock throbbing inside you. He circles your clit faster, harder, driving you closer and closer to the edge. And you know he’s not far behind. Your walls clench down around him, and his hips stutter at the feeling. “That’s it,” he praises. “Come on my cock again, darlin’.”

And then you’re falling, hard, your orgasm crashing into you. Ripples of heat course through your body, prickling your skin. Everything is pure fire, melting your limbs, scorching your bones. But it’s bliss. 

You hold onto Logan tightly, his forehead resting against yours. He curses under his breath. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” Logan breathes, still thrusting in and out. His fingers slide away from your clit, his hand reaching under your back and tugging your chest to his. “You want me to make you mine?”

“Yes,” you beg, tightening your legs around his waist. “Lo, please.”

And then with one more rough thrust, he’s spilling himself inside you, filling you up just like he said he would. He’s warm and pulsing, flooding you, painting your walls. Logan chants your name and moans a string of praises as he comes undone. So fucking beautiful. Did so well for me. Wanna stay inside this perfect little pussy. Need more already. 

He stills inside you, his hips unmoving. He rolls off you, and you think this might be it. That he might put his clothes back on and tell you to get out. But he tugs you with him, still half-hard inside you, rolling you onto your side and into his chest, your leg hoisted above his hip.

With one hand on your waist, he brings his other to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing just under your eyes. “You okay?” He asks. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head from side to side. “No,” you assure, burying your face into his chest. “Felt so good.”

His hand on your waist snakes around to your back, his fingers drawing patterns and shapes into your bare skin. “Felt perfect,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. Comfortable silence falls over the room.

After a few moments, your soft whispers break the quiet. “Thought you hated me,” you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. “I was so frustrated by you.”

He chuckles, the sound bassy and deep. “I think it was a different kind of frustration, hm?” He teases, pulling you closer, his cock already throbbing for more inside you. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling against him. “Guess so.”

Logan laughs again. “You guess so?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Darlin’, I’ve wanted to do that for months.” And then he’s pushing your back into the mattress, hovering over you. “I wanna do it again, right now.”

Your eyes widen and your throat bobs. “Please.”

tags: @Ifdybadgirlsdiw @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.