#~V: Inevitable High School

[thevalicemultiverse]

I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather, not screaming in terror like his passengers.

Inevitable High School

Victor: Heh, sorry, I've already heard this joke. [pause] Please reassure me that it's just a joke.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖱𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑' ༄࿔ H.H.

⤷ Massages | Hand Kink | Breath Play

♱ word count: 2.7k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, “happy ending” massage, hand kink, fingering, choking, multiple orgasms (just 2), unprotected p in v, creampie

♱ notes: honestly really tame compared to the others... i was trying so hard not to make him into mean dom lol ALSO im posting this really late in the day compared to the others so i apologize lol

not proofread thoroughly (sorry hehe)

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Your head is throbbing and your eyes are drying up the longer you sit at your desk. Not a single concept from the last 2 units you read had made sense in your head, and you could barely remember the last sentence you just read.

Thanks to the constant stress you had been under from school, you had a horrible headache and couldn’t stop your leg from bouncing. You needed a break. And luckily for you, a new spa had opened up in your area that was having a “Grand Opening Sale.”

Which is what inevitably led you to your current state; lying face down on top of the comfortable padded table and staring down into the dark brown wood of the floor. Your masseur, a beautiful man named ‘Hyunjin’ had his back to you while his equally beautiful hands jumped around between warming up the oil and putting on music.

The snap of a bottle cap opening was heard and he soon drizzled warmed oil all over your back. You sighed happily at the warmth alone, but even more so when his long fingers began to smear the slippery substance all over your skin that he could get to.

And just like that, he worked his way around your achy body. His beautiful hands worked out each and every knot. The initial awkwardness had completely disappeared and was replaced with exhaustion as he worked his way around your torso muscles like some sort of muscle angel sent from above.

His hand worked wonders on your tense body and the warmed oil helped with breaking down your tension. So much so that you found yourself getting too relaxed. Too comfortable and too attracted to the man above you who was currently easing your body into what you swore was some sort of heaven.

Between the very attractive man behind you easing away the last few months' worth of stress and the constant reminder of his godly hands all over your body, your whole being starts to ache with need. So much so that your legs shake from the way you have to stop them from pressing together.

Your mind wanders on its own and the sound of his breathing is enough to set you off. He gets to a particularly rough spot on your back and you bite your lip hard in order to hide the sexual moan that was about to leave your mouth.

A huff leaves his lips and you’re unsure of what context it's under, though you’re quick to learn that he’s very aware of your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing and eggs you on further, moving his hands up to your shoulders and squeezing the flesh there extra tenderly and rubbing circles into the nape of your neck.

You start to wonder if his fingers are also this talented with- “Can you flip over for me?”

“Huh?” His husky voice hits you right in your pussy and it takes a moment to process what he says. He tilts his head playfully when you look back at him and repeats himself again, eyes staring into your soul as he does so. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded slowly, waiting for him to turn around to flip your body.

Once you give him the ok, he turns back around to you and meets your eyes, smiling sweetly as he moves to stand over you. He wastes no time and sets his hands on your legs, working his way up slowly but surely as he continues his job and his goal.

And that goal would be exactly what led his hands to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there even after he had worked his way through all the knots. He smiles to himself when your eyes squeeze shut and your legs shake with that movement, so he does it again. This time much higher up on your thigh.

Your legs finally squeeze shut, trapping his hands between your legs and you gasp. He laughs to himself when you spit out an apology and shakes his head, rubbing your thigh with his thumb as he keeps his hands where they are, even after you release them.

“Is this ok?” He stares into your eyes and waits patiently for a response, not daring to make any more moves while he waits. You think for a moment as you stare back into his eyes and eventually nod, spreading your legs just the slightest bit more and waiting for him to make his next move.

He throws you a sexy smirk and proceeds with his movements, now growing bold enough to slip them over the small towel that covers your lower half. One of his long fingers traces around your hole, dipping in just the tiniest amount, and pulls back out to trace your clit with your wetness.

“So wet already.” He chuckles and leans forward, planting his free hand by your face as he leans in to kiss your cheek. As he does, he inserts his finger inside of you. It moves around expertly, curving just slightly into your walls looking for your G-spot, and thrusting at a speed that was too slow and just enough at the same time.

“Please, more…” You whine and squirm, looking up at him under your lashes with puppy eyes in hopes that it would convince him. But he doesn’t need much convincing when you look so pretty below him. So he listens immediately and inserts a second finger.

They work in tandem to build you up, finally finding your G-spot and curling into it repeatedly while now moving at a faster pace, one that’s less torturous but still doesn’t feel like enough. You spread your legs further apart and lean up to rest on your elbows, your forehead almost knocking his in the process.

He laughs under his breath at your eagerness and continues his ministrations as he holds eye contact with you, eyes dark and a sexy smile on his face. Your desperateness is adorable to him and he can’t help but give in, adding a third finger while keeping up his pace.

“What got you so riled up, Angel?” He tilts his head at you and leans forward more, pushing his forehead against yours. You moan desperately and grind your hips forward, sucking his fingers in even deeper. “Answer me and I’ll give you everything you want.” You look up at him from under your eyelashes and clench at the lust-dripping look he gives you.

“I just think your hands and your fingers are really pretty…” One of his eyebrows perks up in curiosity before a giant grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah?” His voice drops a few octaves and his biceps flex as he shoves his fingers into the knuckles. “These fingers?” He punctuates his sentence with a tight curl of his fingers against your G-spot and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He watches with a smile as you throw your head back and your jaw slacks. He leans forward and takes advantage of the new space, leaving wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck.

He’s careful not to leave marks as he does so, even pulling away sometimes to coo in your ear and tell you to keep your eyes on his hand or else he’ll stop. And you obey, eyes glued to his wrist and watching the way his veins pop out each time he curls his fingers. It makes you clench more around him and you can feel your orgasm building up even faster now.

“You wanna cum, Angel?” His deep voice makes your jaw drop and your leg attempt to twitch closed. His smile never falters but he tsks when you don’t answer the question. He bottoms out his fingers all the way and stops all movements, eyes glued to yours as he repeats his question. 

“Y-Yes! I wanna cum, please-” His fingers pick up their pace immediately and he fixes his posture, freeing up his left hand in favor of reaching between your legs. His thumb messily plays with your clit as he fingerfucks you and you keen.

It doesn’t take long for you to unravel, your gummy walls sucking him in further and your clit throbbing as you finish with a loud moan of his name. He chuckles and removes his thumb, moving his hand up to your mouth and shoving his thumb into your cheek.

“Shhhh… We don’t want anybody getting suspicious, do we?” You don’t bother replying. Instead, you throw your head back and grind your hips forward as he continues to ride out your orgasm. Once your legs start to close around his torso, he eases his fingers out of you, reveling in the way they shimmer from your release.

His touch leaves you completely as his hand rests on his upper thigh, the other one moving up to his face where he sucks his pointer finger clean. You watch through fluttering eyelids as he closes his eyes and moans around his finger, even going as far as to make an obscene smacking noise as he releases it.

Your eyes meet again and he smiles before licking his lips and tilting his head at you. “Be good and open your mouth for me.” You comply in an instant and his lip twitches, he has to bite his lip to hide his smirk.

He holds eye contact with you as he reaches forward. Once his hand is close enough, his eyes move down to watch his middle and ring finger tracing the outline of your lips. The sight of him paints your lips with your own release, giving you makeshift lip gloss if you will, makes him bite his lip.

Butterflies grow in your stomach at the sight and you take it a step further; leaning in, grabbing his wrist, and wrapping your lips around those same fingers. His smile falters and his eyes look to yours only to be met with an intense stare back. One that drives him absolutely mad and makes his dick twitch in his khakis.

He moans when his fingertips hit your throat and he feels his control leaving his body. A quiet curse leaves his mouth as he pulls his hand away from you, using the now “clean” hand to wrap around your throat as the other pops open the button on his pants.

“You’re so fucking hot- I need to be inside of you right now or else I’ll die.” You let out a giggle that eventually gets interrupted by a moan as he tightens his grip on you. Then again when he spins you and pulls you to the edge of the table before tapping his cock against your folds.

“Prettiest Angel I’ve ever seen… Gonna make you mine, baby. You want that?” You open your mouth to respond and he pushes his tip in at the same time, hand squeezing just the slightest amount more as he pushes inch by inch in.

He’s long and it feels like he’s in your guts when he finally bottoms out, his balls resting flat against your ass. The hand around your throat finally loosens its hold and you gasp for air, head throbbing as you catch your breath.

“H-Hyunjin…”

“Angel- You okay?” You nod and he simply hums in response leaning forward and unintentionally spreading your legs further so he can push his lips against yours. Almost instinctively you open your mouth for him and you can’t hold back a moan when his tongue pushes in.

He takes his time kissing you, allowing you some time to adjust to his size as he slowly grinds his hips against yours. His hands caress your arms soothingly before one rests on your neck, not quite squeezing but just resting there. The other traces your body, moving from your arm down your waist before finally stopping at your hips where he squeezes the flesh appreciatively. 

He squeezes one more time before planting his hand on the table next to your ass and reluctantly pulls away from your lips. Your own hands rest on his shoulders and your nails dig into his soft skin as he starts moving his hips.

“Give it to me, please” He moans and rolls his head back, hips stuttering as he processes what you’re requesting. He sighs deeply and sharply thrusts into you before shaking his head.

“Mm-mm… I’ll fuck your brains out next time. Just relax, Angel. I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow.” You whine loudly and pout up at him but nod your head when the hand on your neck cups your cheek.

His lips push against yours again as he caresses your cheek, and when he pulls away a smile paints his features. He can’t deny you when you look up at him so desperately, so he allows some leeway. His hips start moving, not as slowly as he wanted but just enough to make you shiver deliciously.

He fucks into you with sharp, yet thorough thrusts all while having the cutest smile on his face. And contrary to his facial expression, he’s mixing your guts around each time his hips meet yours, and his hand returns to your neck where it rips the air out of your lungs.

Quiet, breathy gasps leave your mouth as he fucks you silly, not even needing to pound you roughly to make you see stars. It makes you dizzy as you briefly think about this “next time” he speaks about. If this isn’t him fucking you dumb then you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you.

But none of that matters now. Not when he uses the hold on your neck to push you down onto the table. He has to release you to do so and traces his hand up your torso right after. The towel on your chest is long gone, half hanging off the table as it squeaks from his movements, and gives him free reign to rub your nipples softly.

Then his hand moves back up to your neck, this time only ghosting over it before you hear a choked command to “Open.” You do open your lips, but it’s only to ask what he means. However, you don’t get that far.

The same fingers you sucked clean minutes ago thrust suddenly into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue and making you gag. He laughs and apologizes, pulling them out just enough to not cause you to gag again.

He licks his lips as you suck the digits, swirling your tongue around them in a way he can only imagine you would do to his cock. The imagery of that alone is enough to push him closer to the edge, so he drags you to your own with him.

“Cum for me again- ok, Angel?” The fingers in your mouth pull out and rush to your clit where he rubs back and forth furiously. “Cum for me and we can get out of here.” He forces a smile through your tight cunt’s incessant sucking of him and quickens his thrusts.

Although sloppy and not as calculated as before, he manages to push you to cum alongside him, both his hips and his hands faltering as you milk him dry. He cums with a pretty moan, face scrunching up in pleasure and his still-clothed body shaking through it.

You’re not faring any better, your own face scrunched up and your body twitching from the overstimulation that starts to wrack through your body. You’re lucky he pulls away when he did because your body starts to tremble as he uses you to ride his orgasm out.

“You okay?” He’s still catching his breath but he pulls out and leans forward, his softening cock resting against your thigh as he places kisses all over your collarbone.

“Mhm…” You're not sure if you are even on the same planet as you were an hour ago, but he seems to be taking care of it as he helps you come down. His hands caressing your sides all over and his lips only leaving your skin to move to a new spot.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah? My shift was supposed to end once this… ‘massage’ was over, so let me treat you.” He giggles at your mindless nod and cups your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb as he waits for you to come down.

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

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[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers

Chapter Four -

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.

warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.

wc: 10k

authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar

series masterlist | series playlist

songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.

Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you. 

¨Shit.¨ 

Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch. 

A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm. 

A metal chain.

The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington. 

“No, no, no, no.”

The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee. 

There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do. 

Say no.

You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run. 

You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack. 

Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest. 

Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.

Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.

Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.

Why is Eddie not here? 

You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward. 

He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.

The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer. 

Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again. 

Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.

”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?” 

The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.

Point one - you.

Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.

Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.

”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.” 

Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.

“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”

“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”

“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.” 

You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.

“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”

It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.  

“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.

”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”

The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.

”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.

“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck. 

”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes. 

Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.

“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”

It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.

“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.” 

The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.

“So!”  You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.” 

Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night. 

“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole. 

“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”

 “No.”

“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.

”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.

You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.

”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”

The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.

”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”

Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.

”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.

“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”

”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!” 

A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.

”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.

“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.” 

“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.” 

Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.

”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.

“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”  

Two can play that game.

He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”

Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.

Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.

The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.

His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this. 

“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.

He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.

”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.

“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.

“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.

”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.

Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.

“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”

The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.

“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.

The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.

”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”

Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.

“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”

His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.

“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”

Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.

“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.” 

His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:

”Y- you wish it was that easy.”

Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral. 

“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.

He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.

“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place. 

Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.

When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. 

His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.

Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.

“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over. 

Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?” 

His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”

“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”

His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.

Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.

”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”

His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.

The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.

“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”

Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.

He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long. 

Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself. 

”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head. 

The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again. 

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.

You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more. 

Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing. 

“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.

”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.

He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them. 

Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.

“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”

His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore. 

“I really want it.” 

The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.

“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”

Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights. 

He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away. 

”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.

“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.

”Steve!” 

Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.

“It feels, you feel -“

A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind. 

His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.

”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.

The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth. 

It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.

Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.

”Oh my god!”  You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.

“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.

Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes. 

“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.

Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder. 

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.

A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.

The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.

Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car. 

“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.

“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.

”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.

It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in. 

He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not. 

Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.

”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.

You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps. 

“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”

Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.

“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.

”I told you he’s like 19 - “

”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.

”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.

”I should go before Robin -“

”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.” 

“Steve.”

”Honey.”

The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests. 

“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.

“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.

”I’m not letting you walk home.”

“It’s down the road-“

“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.” 

You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.

It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.

You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.

”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.

He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him. 

His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view. 

But he never stops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past. 

“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”

Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks. 

“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.

”I think you like it.” 

You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.

”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”

‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’

“Take me somewhere with fries.”

When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land. 

God, this was not a part of the plan.

“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.

“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.

“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”

You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner. 

“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.

”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.

”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.

”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.

“I can’t stand you.”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration. 

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.

”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.” 

You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.

”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“

”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently. 

”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”

”Steve-“

“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.

“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”

He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.

”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”

He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you. 

Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning. 

It didn’t matter though, he got his date. 

And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.

🌻chapter five

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Jace hockey Au where Cregan is captain and jace and reader are fwb. They inevitably catch feelings. One try to distance from the other, but Jace get hurt when you’re not at the game (hospital hurt) and maybe something about aegon hurting him and being in another team? I NEED a hockey au!!!!!!

Although I'm Canadian and should know a lot about hockey, my knowledge comes from going to my little cousin's games a few years ago and the hockey smut books from booktok. Don't take anything too seriously, there's high chances I made mistakes

Also, this is 3.2k and I don't know how I got there. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, smut, p+v, mention of fingering,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Tonight’s game against the Falcons had everyone on the edge of their seats up until the last second. The score was a tie and, with less than three minutes to the third period, the chances of winning before hearing the end buzzer were slim. Very slim. But not impossible because Jacaerys — thanks to a great pass from Cregan — skated his way to scoring the winning goal.

Music blared from the speakers of the frat house when the last of the Wolves bustled through the door, fresh out of their post-game showers and ready to party. 

Cregan and Jacaerys were at the front of the group, the former’s arm thrown over Jace’s shoulders and shaking him as everyone inside cheered and whooped for them. 

‘’Here come the MVP of the night!’’ Cregan shouted over the noise. ‘’Someone bring him a beer!’’ 

The chaos at the door pulled your attention from the story Baela was telling you, your eyes focussed on Jace who was laughing under his teammate’s enthusiastic grip, his dark curls still slightly damp from the shower.

Goddamn, he looked gorgeous. 

Baela smirked and nudged you. ‘’Looks like your boy just came in,’’ she pointed out, nodding towards the entrance where Jace was standing, still surrounded by the cheering crowd.

You tore your eyes away from Jacaerys. ‘’He’s not ‘my boy’,’’ you told her for the third time, rolling your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. ‘’We’re just friends.’’ 

‘’Whatever makes you sleep at night,’’ she teased, a knowing glint in her eyes. ‘’Or not sleep.’’ 

You mentally groaned. If you had been more careful, she would never have had this awkward run-in with Jace last Wednesday at the dorm and therefore would not know about you fucking the Wolves’ center player on the side. 

A beer was brought to him and he took a long and deserved gulp. More of his teammates crowded around him, accompanied by a hoard of puck bunnies. They were easy to recognize as they only hung around hockey players at parties. Most of the time, they didn’t know much about hockey, they only wanted to stroke a player’s ego in hopes of getting in their pants. 

You grimaced at the blonde hanging at Jacaerys’ arm and left to look for Rhaena, pulling Baela along.  

Later into the night, you were talking to Rhaena about Baela’s last Tinder date disaster when you felt a hand on the small of your back. Usually, you would have pushed them off you, but the smirk on Baela’s face told you exactly who it was. As if the woodsy cologne wasn’t enough.

‘’There you are,’’ he said to you, a beer in his other hand, then turned to the twins. ‘’Did you girls enjoy the game tonight?’’ 

Attending the Wolves' hockey games on Fridays had become a routine with your friends. It was a great way to unwind from school and encourage college peers. You used to go alone with Rhaena as you were both friends with Jace, but Baela began tagging along when she found out how hot their captain was. 

‘’Rhaena had to bail on this one. One of the baristas called in so she had to take an extra shift at the campus coffee house,’’ you explained. 

Rhaena nodded, annoyance toward her co-worker visible in her face. ‘’I heard you scored the winning goal. Congratulation!’’ She extended her arm to clink her beer with Jace’s. 

He thanked her, his hand slipping underneath your shirt to stroke your soft skin. You leaned into his touch, pleased with the discreet intimate touch. 

‘’So, how does it feel to be the hero of the night?’’ Baela asked, smirking again. 

Jace rubbed the back of his neck, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ‘’I would not call myself a hero,’’ he corrected, a shy smile at the corner of his lips. ‘’I couldn’t have done it without Cregan’s pass.’’ 

Across the kitchen, the girl who’d attached herself to his arm earlier seemed less than happy he was talking to the three of you. When Jace spotted her, he groaned. 

‘’Not again… I’ve been running from Clemence for the past ten minutes. Some girls can’t take a hint.’’ He didn’t want to leave — you didn’t want him to either —, but running from puck bunnies was sometimes easier than dealing with them. ‘’I’ll see you later?’’ he said to you, cocking an eyebrow as he waited for your answer. 

You nodded, impatient to get your mouth on that dick. 

⁂

‘’Do that again!’’ you begged, completely forgetting about the other Wolves players who had their rooms nearby. 

Below you, Jace gripped your hips and gave another upward thrust, making you gasp in delight as his cock hit every single good place inside of you. 

‘’Ah, yes!’’ Bracing your hands on his abs, you threw your head back, your perky tits swaying as you moved your hips and bounced on his cock, riding him until your legs were shaking from pain. ‘’I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,’’ you warned, starting to feel yourself approaching the edge.

Getting the message, Jace brought his hand to where you were joined and rubbed your swollen clit with his thumb until a long, drawn out moan left your lips, your orgasm hitting you like a brick wall, your pussy spasming around him.

You collapsed on Jacaerys’ chest, out of breath and eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continued to fuck into you, drawing out your orgasm until he finally reached his own. 

Despite the ache in your legs, you moved off him and flopped on the bed while Jace ran a hand through his hair. ‘’That was your reward for the goal you scored tonight,’’ you said, making Jace laugh as he tossed the condom in the trash. 

He rearranged his body so his head was on the pillow instead of the mattress, tiredness catching him after his game and the sex. ‘’I’ll try to score goal like that more often.’’ 

You joined him in his laughter. 

⁂

The next Friday, the Wolves were playing out of town…in another state. You tried to get a spot on the supporter bus, but all spots were already taken, forcing you to miss the game.  

You busied yourself for the night, making the last corrections on your paper that was due on Monday. It should have been finished days ago, but you got…distracted. 

At around 10pm, your phone buzzed with a text when Jace made it back to the bus. It was a picture of him in the darkness of the bus, a big winning grin on his face.

Jace: I expect a victory kiss when I get back 

Victory kiss he got when you saw him on Saturday at the Omega Phi party. 

⁂

When you started college, you promised yourself to never be the girl who gets fucked in a bathroom at parties, but here you were with your tits out and Jacaerys’s skilled hand under your dress. And you had absolutely no regrets. It was part of the college experience. 

You rearranged the bottom of your dress before slipping out of the bathroom and looking for your friends. Music pounded in your ears as you walked through the people, searching for a white-haired girl in a blue skirt. 

Baela had worn her most flattering skirt, set on getting Cregan’s attention tonight. They knew each other, but she was tired of being overshadowed by puck bunnies playing dumb or flashing their tits in his face. 

‘’Did you speak to Cregan yet?’’ you asked once you found her in the kitchen. ‘’I saw him in the living room with Benjen and Niklaus. No girls in sight. This is your chance if you—’’ 

Baela interrupted you, noticing the wrinkles on your dress and a mark on your neck.  ‘’Please tell me you were not doing what I think in a random person’s bedroom? Do you know the risks of getting an STI?’’ 

You poured yourself a drink, avoiding her eyes. ‘’I was not…doing that. I was also not not doing that,’’ you said, taking a sip to hide your smile behind your red cup. 

⁂

After Sunday practice, you met Jace and Cregan at the pancake place just outside campus. 

‘’Sorry, I’m late!’’ you apologized, walking over to their table in a sweatshirt and leggings. No other attire was acceptable on Sundays. ‘’I couldn’t find my dorm key and Baela’s dad is here for the weekend, so she was already out when I woke up.’’ 

Jace shook his head. ‘’It’s fine. I ordered for you already.’’

You slid into the booth, your stomach growling in appreciation. ‘’Thanks, I’m starving. Have you guys heard about Cassandra from Zeta Alpha Zeta? According to Rhaena, she was caught leaving a bedroom with Marcus at Omega Phi’s party…if you know what I mean.’’ 

There were likely kids at this restaurant, so you switched some of the vocabulary to spare their young ears and not receive looks from parents.

‘’The guy on the swim team?’’ Jace asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hummed as you took a sip of his berry smoothie, and dove deeper into campus gossips. Working at the coffee house had its perks: you were hearing all sorts of dramas. 

Before you, Cregan seemed less interested in the gossip than you and Jace, but he humored you with a nod. ‘’We can switch so you can sit next to your girlfriend,’’ he offered, starting to stand up, but Jace was quick to correct him.

‘’We’re not dating,’’ Jace said, a little too fast for your liking. ‘’We’re just friends.’’ 

Cregan snickered, settling back into his seat. 

⁂

You hated yourself for staying for a movie after sex, but you were unable to say ‘no’ to Jace’s Puss in Boots pout. Besides, you were friends before you added the benefits part. Watching movies was part of the things you did together. 

As the movie played, Jace broke the silence. ‘’I tried to call you this afternoon, and it went to voicemail. I thought you didn’t have any classes?’’ 

‘’I didn’t. I went to the library,’’ you replied, your eyes still on the screen, trying to keep it casual.  ‘’I was studying with a guy from my English class.’’ 

‘’A guy?’’ Jace’s eyes narrowed.

‘’Aemond. He’s in my English class—’’ 

‘’Are you kidding? Aemond?’’ Jace sat up, sheets pooling around his waist. He recognized the name instantly. ‘’You need to stay away from this guy. His brother is captain of the Dragons — our rival team. The same guy who bullied me at hockey camp when I was a kid. He’s probably just asking you out to piss me off.’’

A laugh escaped your lips, more incredulous than amused. ‘’Why would he do such a thing? Aemond is a nice guy.’’

Jace's frustration boiled over. ‘’You don't get it! That whole family is fucking snakes. During my rookie year, Aegon and I were in a corner of the ice and he chucked one of his teammates from behind and blamed me. I was benched for misconduct and not allowed to play for three weeks. And right now you’re giving him material to piss me off!’’ 

You sighed, still on your defenses. Being part of the same family doesn’t make him the same as his brother. ‘’Just because his brother was nasty to you doesn’t mean Aemond’s a bad person.’’ 

‘’He is! We play against the Dragons this Friday. Aegon is probably scheming something…’’ Jace ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, his voice rising. ‘’What are you doing?’’ 

‘’I’m leaving,’’ you said firmly, pushing off the bed. 

You moved around the room, searching for your things, fed up with arguing over an old hockey rivalry. What a moodkill to your night! You slipped your shirt on without another word and without bothering to look for your bra. Before leaving, you grabbed your jacket from the back of the desk chair, uncovering Jace's hockey hoodie, a stark reminder of what just set off this argument.

⁂

Three days went by without hearing from Jace. You saw him on campus yesterday, and he switched directions as soon as he spotted you. It was clear he was avoiding you, and you were doing the same.

Back in your dorm, you watched Baela getting ready, her makeup scattered across her bed. She hummed softly to a Taylor Swift song as she applied her lipstick. 

‘’I was kind of hoping we would have a girls night with Rhaena. Facemasks, sushi and rom-coms, like we used to,’’ you said, sitting on your bed, your voice tinged with disappointment. ‘’It's been so long since we last had one. I think the last time was for your birthday…which was three months ago.’’

Baela glanced at you, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. ‘’I know, I miss our girls nights too. But I’m seeing Cregan in fifteen minutes.’’ An exhilarated smile spread on her glossed lips. ‘’Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s happening!’’

You were genuinely happy for her, but a small part of you couldn’t help but wish Cregan would call and cancel at the last minute. Did that make you a shitty friend?

‘’Have you spoken to Jace?’’

You shook your head, fiddling with the bottom of your sweater. It’s difficult to talk to someone when you’re actively avoiding each other. 

Baela sighed, knowing drama would erupt when you agreed to this friends with benefits thing. She’s seen enough movies to know how it always ends. She reached for her shoes and purse, ready to leave. ‘’Rhaena is working the closing shift, so if you’re really lonely you can call her. I don’t know when I’ll be back.’’ 

You nodded and wished her a good time for her date. 

After she was gone, you hesitated for a moment before deciding to reach out to Aemond and asking if he wanted to get coffee. 

⁂

On Friday, Baela and Rhaena were at the game, so you found yourself alone watching Netflix in bed. The new rom-com starring Sidney Sweeney had just hit the streaming service and you were impatient to see it. The male protagonist had nothing appealing, but the storyline sounded fun. 

You were half-way through your bag of Skittles when your phone buzzed with multiple messages. You expected some of them to be from the girls updating you on the game, but you were surprised to see they were from Cregan Stark. 

Cregan: Hey, it’s Cregan. I don’t know where you are, but your boyfriend got hurt at the game. It’s bad. 

You almost corrected him about the use of ‘boyfriend’, but your heart stopped as you read the next messages. 

Cregan: Him and Aegon got into an argument before the game outside the arena and it carried on on the ice. During the third period, Aegon checked Jace and he flew right into the boards. He went down hard and got knocked unconscious. The medic team took him in an ambulance. 

Cregan: He’s at the hospital. Please come. 

You stared at the screen, the words blurring as panic set in. Just because you were not on speaking terms at the moment didn’t mean you didn’t care about him. 

You scrambled off the bed, grabbing your dorm keys and shoes with trembling hands. Within moments, you were out the door, your heart pounding as you took a cab to the hospital. Please be okay. Please be okay.

The journey there felt like an eternity. You re-read Cregan’s messages over again, the twins’s messages coming in at the same time. You ignored them, too into panic mode to type anything back. You arrived at the hospital, breathless and disoriented, and searched for a tall, bearded hockey player.

You found him in a hallway outside a rows of rooms, his face tense with worry. 

‘’Is he okay? Where is he?’’ you asked, your voice shaky. 

‘’He’s stable now, but they are keeping him for the night due to his concussion,’’ Cregan replied, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to your panic. ‘’I have to call his mom. And Coach, to update him on the situation. Can you stay here?’’

You nodded quickly. ‘’Yes. Of course.’’ 

You gave him a small smile, a silent promise to watch over Jace during his absence, and took a deep breath before nervously pushing the door open. 

Inside, the usually bright lights were dimmed due to the concussion. Jace lay on the hospital bed, looking pale and asleep. An IV was hooked to his arm, and the room was filled with the faint beeping of monitors. The door creaked as it closed behind you, causing Jace’s eyes to flutter open. He assumed it was either Cregan or a nurse checking on him, but it was you.

‘’Where’s Cregan?’’ he murmured, his voice raspy as he stared at the white wall. 

‘’Making calls,’’ you said softly, walking up to his bedside. Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the sight of him. He was okay. ‘’You scared the hell out of me.’’

‘’Did you go out with him? Aemond.’’ 

His question took you by surprise. ‘’No. Not really. We just got coffee together—’’ 

Pain crossed his face, but it was not from the concussion. ‘’Do you know what Aegon said to me before the game? He talked about you. Said you dumped me for Aemond, and now it was his name you would be moaning in bed. I wanted to punch him so bad for speaking about you like that, but I didn’t because I knew I would be suspended from the team. It got my head out of the game. All I could think about was Aegon and knocking that stupid smirk off his face, but he got me first.’’ 

This Aegon guy sounded like the biggest asshole. 

‘’Aegon was lying, Jace. Aemond and I got coffee together, but that’s it. You can ask Rhaena if you don’t believe me, she was working that night. I never had any other intentions regarding Aemond. He said this to mess with you.’’ 

Jace sighed, frustration evident in the furrow of his brow. He felt stupid for believing Aegon. He should have seen through his game instead of letting him get to his head. ‘’Of course he did… I should have known better.’’ 

You took Jace’s hand, only now realizing his other was in a brace. ‘’I’m here with you, aren’t I? Not with Aemond.’’

The corner of his lips curled into a smile, and he squeezed your hand. ‘’You’re my girl, okay? I know we said we were just friends, but are we really just friends? I didn’t write ‘mine’ on your upper thigh just because I was drunk. I wrote it while drunk because I didn’t have the courage to tell you I wanted you when I was sober.’’ 

‘’Jace—’’

‘’Don’t say anything. Just…kiss me. Please. I can’t do a lot of thinking because of my concussion, so let’s keep the talking for later, okay? Right now I just need you to kiss me.’’ You didn’t move, giving Jace the impression you didn’t want to kiss him. ‘’You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna force you to kiss me—’’

You cut him off with a kiss. Soft and slow, making up for the days you didn’t get to kiss him.  

Unfortunately, it ended quickly as a sharp pain stabbed at Jace’s temple and he couldn’t hold back his wince. ‘’I think we’ll keep the kissing for later.’’ 

—

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[rezitio]

"𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐄" gojo satoru

smut

leak: You find yourself in Gojo's bed again

genre: post-high school series, college sex, plaything, smart!rr, realistic college fuckboy (You're just a plaything), messy org, p in v, dacryphillia, gojo is high, sweet talk

artist: gojo satoru

━━━━━━

All your senses are dulled; that smart brain that was always at work, either running that sharp mouth or your honour roll grades, has gone blank.

But you're not spaced out either. You wish you could be, but each thrust brings you right back to the present. The pleasure you’re feeling down there won’t allow you to even dream of being anywhere other than the reality of Gojo Satoru’s bed being pounded into.

But who are you to complain? You called for this. Blowing up his phone with shit like ‘I need you’ when his other girl is right next to him. He was so close to blocking your number if you kept flooding his DMs.

But all it took was one nude to get this man to blow off the other girl and invite you over. You’re lucky, you tell yourself.

So lucky that fuckboy Gojo has a liking for your body. The boy who all he does is lead and everyone cheers.

He’s calling you to his bed of all places. For all his other hoes, it's either their house or another room in his mega mansion; the university calls a dorm. You’d like to think it makes you special. You’re not.

He’s digging you deep into the mattress with each thrust. Your eyes dart across the room; it's all you can do other than yell. The room was dark; the only light around was the blue LED strips hidden by the ceiling designs, matching his eyes.

The whites in his eyes had turned a light red. Contrast to your sober ones. That should have been your first sign, but from ignoring red eyes to red flags, warnings have never been your strong suit.

Your clothes and his mixed on the floor, the purple liquid on the nightstand that got knocked down somewhere in between the time you still had energy to squirm around was still dripping onto the expensive carpet.

Gojo didn’t care; he had enough money to buy another one. Right next to the cup of lean was his firearm. You don't know what happened to him during his teen years that made him turn out like this, but those who knew him when he was in his senior years all say it was inevitable for him and his group.

The lights were all so pretty. Illuminating behind the design of the ceiling. You wanted to get a better look at it, gently raising your head to look up, only for it to roughly be pushed back down.

Just like that, you were brought back to the reality of things: how deep he was in you, how loudly you were screaming. His dick was ravaging you at a constant rhythm. It was hitting that spot repeatedly with each thrust. And his dick wouldn’t even leave your warmth for a second, keeping you filled up.

A drop of salty water finds a way to your mouth. That's when you notice a pool of wet cloth around your face. You had been crying for a while now, although you’re now noticing it Gojo’s been staring at it for a while, but he didn’t care to slow down. In fact, it gave him an ego boost.

You’re crying yet at the same time begging him not to stop; how pathetic could you be? Tired of the noise, his digits find a way into your mouth. You know what he wants you to do; you suck on them, muffling your sounds. In other words, you shut up.

It was working for a while. He could deal with the vibrations on his fingers masking your loud moans until he felt himself getting close. He could care less about the progress he was making and quickened his pace chasing the release.

Trying to keep your sound in, you bite down on his fingers. He didn't mind; all his other sensations dulled down and focused on his cock. He could feel his body teasing him, electric currents rushing from his sacks through to his length, then dancing at his tip as more electricity piles on his tip.

God, he loved your body so much. It was like it was in perfect sync with his. Your lower body started shaking on his dick; the screams were slipping out; you were also close.

Your fingers reached for the hand binding them, digging your nails into his skin. “Toru…” You yelped out, but he already knew; a little bit of your white liquid was already running down his thigh. You were doing such a bad job of holding your orgasm.

“Cum on me, baby.” He commanded his hand, left your hands, and began to work on your clit as you released. All his self-confidence decimated as he felt his own orgasm rushing out and had no control over it. He was no better than you.

He pulled out, and your cream blew over his thigh; he didn't have time to mind it, though. His finger in your mouth pulled your head back quickly, rushing to release in your mouth. But he barely had control over the pleasure you made him feel.

The little squirter almost missed your mouth, causing part of his walls and the side of your face to be painted in the same liquid that was now rushing down your throat. He sandwiched your head between the mattress and his dick, enjoying the vibration of your gags and gurgles.

“Sh... struggle with me...” He lowly whispered as if he wasn't suffocating you. God, he hated how messy you were and how messy and stimulated you made him.

label: rezitio© album: post-high school au sample: Yale by Ken Carson

im currently writing a nanami fiction, so buckle up for that 😛

kodaswrld for banner

[guiltyasdave]

no one has to know what we do

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.

word count: 4.4k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.

It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.

Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.

It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.

You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.

But David — David is refreshing.

He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.

You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.

He’s not expecting you to reach out.

Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.

Because all he can think about is seeing you again.

It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.

Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.

He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.

Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.

And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.

He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.

Seconds after the first, another text comes through:

[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone

Fuck. Fuck.

His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.

He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.

The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.

His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.

“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.

He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”

“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.

Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.

“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”

His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.

“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.

“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”

You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.

“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.

You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.

“You don’t like me?”

He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.

The call disconnects with a beep.

You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.

His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.

“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.

“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”

Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.

“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.

“Probably not.”

You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.

When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.

Have fun last night?

From David, sent five minutes ago.

You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.

Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.

Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.

i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you

His reply comes almost instantly.

Who said you bothered me?

You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.

It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.

When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.

You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.

He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.

Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.

You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.

He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.

You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.

You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.

You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.

After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.

But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.

On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.

Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.

He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.

“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”

It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.

He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.

He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.

The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?

“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”

He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.

“Yes. Come on.”

He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.

He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.

So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.

You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.

He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.

He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.

You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.

“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.

“You want me to take care of you?”

You nod.

“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”

Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.

“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.

Slap.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.

Slap.

“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”

You gasp.

Slap.

“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”

It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.

He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.

He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.

You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.

No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.

He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.

He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.

When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.

“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”

He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.

You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.

One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.

“I thought I told you no begging.”

You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”

He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”

You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.

He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.

It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.

He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.

“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”

You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.

He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.

You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.

Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.

He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.

“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.

You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.

“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.

Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.

The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.

When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.

It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.

He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.

Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.

[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.

It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.

Maybe just one more time.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[lilhoeforevanpeters]

Tate Langdon Headcannons <3

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<3 Life dating Tate <3

<3 Tate x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Tate, murder, suicide, p in v, fingering, oral (both m and f), grinding, humping, I think that’s it

<3 I lost the request, but someone did request this, hopefully they see it lol. Thanks for the request, it's appreciated!! I might make a post about who I write for so people can send requests, but I'm not sure yet. Love you!!

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SFW

Listening to old rock (i.e Nirvana ofc)

Borrowing his sweaters

Cuddling in bed

100% the little spoon, he wouldn't like being the big spoon but will do it if you're sad (or simply ask)

He's kind of a creep, so he'll stare at you all the time. silently.

Anything you do, he's watching admiringly

He thinks your perfect in every single aspect

Movie nights on Fridays

He totally seems like he'd enjoy horror and true crime

Misses you when you leave Murder House for anything

Would be scared you're going to leave him constantly

Helps you through anxiety attacks, depression episodes, mental health struggles

Listening intently whenever you vent to him

Does anything to protect you

He would try to hide his past from you for a while until inevitably find out

You don't argue often, but when you do it's usually not over serious things. An exception being when you find out what he did before (school shooting, Vivien, murder, etc.) ... You can decide if you want to forgive him or not

Reading with him, both of you silent yet still resting against each other

Introducing him to social media and him begging you to follow fan pages of bands he likes

You die in Murder house, which shouldn't come as a surprise, since everybody dies in that damn house. Maybe you commit suicide for him or something, but another ghost or entity killing you is a high possibility as well

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NSFW

Riding his thigh while he softly encourages you, whispering in your ear as you do so

I get switch vibes from him, but heavily leaning towards being more submissive, and when he would be dominant, he would definitely be a soft dom. He wouldn't want to hurt you; he doesn't seem to be into that

You giving him blow/hand jobs and his hips buck up slightly>>>>

He whimpers and I will not hear ANYBODY out.

His pull-out game seems weak, and he's dead, but as we've seen before, his sperm certainly isn't- so I'd use some contraceptives babe

Missionary and cowgirl are your top two- and the one where you're like sitting on his lap

Average, maybe on the bigger side, but he isn't packing a foot long cock

He really values your pleasure, and wants to make you cum first

Your back would be pressed against his chest and you're sitting on his lap while he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you

He seems like the kind of guy who does not give a fuck about periods

He likes when you're sitting on a chair or the side of your bed and he's kneeling on the ground eating you out

As he said before, gay porn is hot, so you two watch porn together, usually ending up with you and him acting out what you just viewed

He'd be gentle and respectful the entire time

Enjoys watching you masturbate when you don't know he's there, especially when you grind against a pillow. His heart races every time you whisper out his name when you think he isn't there

Shower sex, car sex (when he can leave the house), beach sex (on Halloween), any possible place that you could imagine, he's not opposed to

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[mojogojocasahouse]

Just in Time Part I

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 4.7k content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), smut, unprotected p in v, oral m-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

[9:37 pm] Are you busy?

[9:38 pm] Aw. Kamo family party not as lively as you’d hoped?

[9:38 pm] Just answer the question, Gojo.

[9:38 pm] Gojo is busy. Satoru on the other hand can be persuaded. 

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, scanning the room again for anyone who might be taking an interest. Of course, no one seems to even remember you’re here at all.. 

[9:45 pm] Yes or no

[9:45 pm] What’s in it for me?

[9:45 pm] You’re joking

[9:46 pm] With all my options, why do I choose the Kamo bride tonight? Hmm? 

[9:50 pm] You’re a piece of shit. 

[9:51 pm] HARSH!! You’ve convinced me. Send me the address. 

[9:52 pm] Oh and tell daddy hi for me!

“Fuck you!” you hiss under your breath, sighing as you toss your phone back into the small bag you were carrying. 

Your history with Satoru Gojo has always been…tumultuous. It started in high school, as the daughter of the principal of the Kyoto branch, you sought him to get back at your father, Principal Gakuganji, and he’d been more than happy to oblige for the same exact reason. Exchange events had been less about competition and more about the time stolen in dorm rooms and behind buildings, far more than goodwill being spread. 

It had all come crashing down the day you turned 18. 

Not that there had been an air of commitment between either of you, but whatever physically beneficial relationship that had sprung up and the hopes that it would be more frequent after graduation were wiped away with one sentence. 

“You’re getting married,” your father had said, the Kamo boy from a year ahead of you smiling at his side. 

That was the day you’d realized you’d been nothing but a pawn from the day you’d been born. Despite being a Jujutsu sorcerer, you’d begged to go to university, prolonging the inevitable for as long as you could. Gojo had frequented your dorm room there, too, arriving at your door with his cock already stiff, you barely made it inside before you were on your knees, pulling him into your throat. 

Those years were as close as you got to happy. 

The Kamo clan had taken possession of you two years ago, and while meetings with Gojo became less frequent, they also grew more hostile. Satoru Gojo wasn’t known for his kind, warm nature, and his frustration in losing his favorite toy was on full display whenever you’d been able to get away from lackluster events and days of learning customs you couldn’t care less about; you were too weak to end it entirely with him. He made you feel too good, it was a reprieve from the life you faced day in and day out. But maybe it was just a different breed of nightmare. 

As things continued, you realized it wasn’t actually you that got his cock throbbing. It had always been the satisfaction of how much your father would hate Gojo being in your presence, never mind your bed. You felt the same, being with a man your father loathed above all else was just as thrilling to you. And now, on the evening of your arranged wedding, you’re standing outside a small sushi cafe in a misting rain waiting for a ride to the lavish Tokyo apartment Gojo uses for one thing only. You can’t help but wonder how many others have seen those barren walls. 

Typically, he sends a taxi service, letting you know the details of the car to look out for, but it’s been twenty minutes and you’ve received no information. 

[10:19 pm] You better not have fucking bailed on me. 

You hate how the thought makes your cheeks burn and your chest hollow in what you try to convince yourself is anger, but you know the truth. 

“Why would I bail on you!?” The sound of his voice yelling from his downed window has the muscles in your shoulders loosening. “You look ridiculous. What is that makeup?”

“Fuck you,” you spit at him, rounding the car to slide into the passenger seat, “Just go.”

“Well, aren’t you tense? What’s a‘matter? Already hating marital bliss?”

The disregard he displays about your impending doom digs under your skin. Your bladed gaze shoots over to him, you’d just noticed he was wearing his white bandages over his eyes still, the high collar of his uniform unzipped just enough to reveal the stretch of his throat you’d be decorating soon. 

“Were you working?” you ask, the hour a little strange for a teacher to still be on the clock. 

“Uh-huh,” he practically purrs, flicking through the songs quietly humming from the radio.

Well, that explains why he was the one that rolled up to get you. However, more dangerously you consider that he’d dropped what he was doing for you. 

“Seriously, what are you wearing?” he asks again with a chuckle.

“Shut the fuck—“ your retort was cut short by a long, slender thumb pressing down on your tongue, your lips locking around the digit and sucking instinctively. 

“I’m gonna tear it to shreds.” The whisper is almost menacing, and your core throbs at the husky tone and malicious intent. 

When you’d texted him, you knew tonight would be different. Tomorrow you’ll be signed away. Not that it will change your arrangement, at least you had no intention for it to, but it won’t be the same. It couldn’t be. You’ll be princess to the Kamo clan, officially, and while you find pockets to escape now, soon there will be hurdles even Satoru Gojo can’t leap over. 

“Did you have any trouble?” he asks as the car comes to a smooth halt at a red light, your lips pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb before he can pull it away completely and check whatever alert had just pinged his phone. 

“No,” you answer, turning your attention out the window.

In fact, the lack of resistance had given you pause. When you’d told your father you wanted to head home, he hadn’t even asked why. You’d already prepped the excuse of a headache and buzzing nerves, but he’d waved you off and returned to his conversation with one of the many Jujutsu society higher-ups in attendance. You hadn’t even bothered to check in with the man you were set to marry in just over twelve hours. Instead, you took the easy way out and ran.

The apartment is pitch black when you arrive, Gojo forgetting to turn the lights on as he throws his things onto the kitchen counter and heads straight to his fridge, grabbing a glass bottle of soda and sending the metal top skipping across the floor. Your eyes can’t help but try and follow it, even in the dark, the thud of Gojo’s hands slamming against the door behind you echoing in each of your ears. He’s centimeters away, his sweet strawberry breath huffing out against your lips, and your lungs seize up, your chest shaking with traitorous little gasps. It’s been almost ten years of this, and still, he leaves you quivering.

“I know what you wanna do.” His voice is smoother than melted chocolate, sweet and rich.

“You don’t know shit.” Maintaining this ruse is futile when your voice is trembling, but you try anyway.

“Oh? I think I know you best of all.”

He’s right, and the fact that he knows that has your stomach knotting. As he flashes that cocky, toothy grin there’s no helping the relief that floods through your body. The night had been tense, you’d been nothing but a stranger in a strange land, sat down and expected to abide by customs and etiquette that made you sick. It was a hierarchy, and you were the very bottom rung of the ladder, only there to push the others around you up higher towards their goals.

“You called me, remember?” he croons, backing away enough to have your body following his on pure instinct, “So come and take what you want. I’m all yours.”

For one last night. The leather of his belt is smooth as you grip it with one hand, yanking him back into you. He has a significant height advantage, but when you seek his lips he’s already curled himself down, the kiss you find solace in waiting for you. It’s sugary and warm, the soft cloth of his eye-covering pressing against your forehead as his palms swallow your sides whole, he’s learned the intricacies of your preferences in ways no one else ever would. He knows to tease you until your fingers thread through his hair, a gentle tug the welcome invitation to swipe his tongue along your swelling lower lip, but he’s also well aware you won’t take that step, but it’s one he’s always happy to leap into.

Snowy, white strands fall over the back of your hand as the bandages around his eyes loosen and drape over your noses, your nails still raking through the buzzed hair of his undercut and you know if you dared open your eyes, the infinite blue that the sky itself envied would greet you. Both your fingers and his work to pull the troublesome fabric free, his succeeding before threading with yours and pinning your hand above your head, the fraying edges of the cloth dancing against your hair as his pace picks up. 

Every inch of your body burns, the tight material of your assigned outfit suffocating and the room growing seemingly smaller around the broad shoulders in front of you. All you can smell is him as you search for the zipper of his jacket with your free hand, pulling it open and making quick work of the buttons of his overpriced shirt. His skin is smooth and cool to the touch, the peaks and valleys of his defined torso solid beneath your brushing fingertips. It takes all your concentration to keep up with him, he’s almost frantic, pushing you further and further into the wood behind you as his chest heaves until suddenly he pulls away. 

You’re left cold and buzzing in anticipation, his predatory gaze burning through you from where he stands just out of reach. 

“I want that off,” he mutters, low and menacing, his teeth gnashed together, and you know he isn’t talking about your clothes.

He’s faster than you are, his pointer finger and thumb gripping the gold ring on your left hand and tugging, the ping of the metal skittering across the floor after his haphazard toss in sync with the speed at which he claims your mouth once again. You knew he could feel it catching in his hair and grazing over his chest. Typically, you remembered to take it off prior to even stepping foot in his building, but today the surprise of Gojo himself pulling up to get you had sent everything out of whack. 

“Satoru,” you sigh, his appreciative groan from hearing his given name falling from your lips hitting where he was currently mouthing at your throat, “Satoru…”

You sound pathetic and you can't care less, he’s eating your blatant need for him out of the palm of your hand. He always does, and you wonder if he’s like this with everyone else who gets to see these walls. 

When your hand shoots to his belt, undoing the buckle and finding the button and zipper that’s keeping him contained you can feel the stretch of his smile against your neck.

“I win,” he croons, tugging his arms free of his sleeves as you push his pants and boxers down to his ankles. 

“I volunteer,” you correct as you sink to your knees, his finger keeping your chin in place and eyes on him as you drop down. 

Satoru usually won this little tradition, his hand diving between your legs first and claiming himself the “loser” as he spread your thighs wide and worked you on his tongue until he’d had his fill. Tonight, however, belonged to you, his cock thick and long as you ran your tongue along the underside, greedily collecting the small pearls that had already begun to leak from the tip. 

“Lookit me,” he slurs, mouth already hanging open as you keep his flushed head sitting on your tongue, “Good girl.”

His thumb rubs reverent circles on your jaw as he spits along his ridge, your mouth immediately locking around him and sucking him clean. With each bob of your head you take him a little deeper, your lips loudly suctioning around him as his head falls back in bliss and his shoulders drop from their tensed state. He sighs in relief, his thighs flexing beneath your hands when your throat constricts around the intrusion, your hair quickly knotting in his grip as he takes two steps forward, pinning you against the door. 

“Come on, princess,” he urges, pinching your chin, “don’t be a tease. Gag it down. All of it.”

It’s times like these when you remember the man towering above you is just a few criteria short of being a monster. Spoiled rotten and all-powerful—there is nothing the world could offer that was out of his reach. His confidence is otherworldly and earned, there is no task he isn’t proficient in, and in turn, you’ve always worked hard to stand toe-to-toe with him in all things. Even this. 

A wicked grin stretches across his face as he watches your expression morph into one of ire and determination, he knows how to push every button and pluck every string and he’s well aware of it. With your head firmly in his grasp, his hips start to move, his cock sliding over your tongue like silk as you try to force back the urge to wretch it out. Your eyes burn, tears sliding down your cheeks and mingling with the drool coating the lower half of your face, and he doesn’t relent, nor do you ask him to. 

“There we go,” he praises, yet your nose still hasn’t touched the thin patch of white curls that’s still an inch away, “Fixed that hideous makeup.”

He can tell that you need air, and he pulls himself free while still keeping you pinned by the hair, a string of spit connecting your gasping, swollen lips to the shining tip of his dick. He’s chuckling to himself at your haggard state, your lungs burning as they pull in the air that tastes like him. He bends, forcing himself to your eye level, his free hand thumbing at your gaping mouth.

“You’re such a whore,” he whispers, and it sounds like a compliment in his tooth-rotting, sweet tone, and he spits once again straight onto your tongue. 

“Prick…” you cough after swallowing down what he’d left, his high-pitched giggle echoing in the room as he stands back to his full height. 

“Well, you don’t come here cause I’m nice to you. Do you? Open up.”

Your response is a swift obeying of his command. 

“You like this kind of attention,” his tone is lower now.

Once again, you have to resign to the fact that he’s right. There’s no warning now, no preparation, just his cock slamming into your throat, and your eyes snap shut as you breathe through your nose. He reaches down to feel the bulging of his thrusts, being careful to not pinch off whatever airflow you may have just yet, his hum of approval shooting straight to your throbbing core. 

“And only I give it to you,” he finishes, your tongue laving out against his sack drawing out a whine, “Stay still.”

He knows exactly what you can take, moving his hips at a speed he knows won’t be too much and stopping when your mewling turns frantic, kissing your lips as you suck in air before returning to fucking your throat hard enough the door rattles on its hinges. You want to reach between your legs to relieve the ache that’s becoming unbearable, but you know he’ll scold you, prolonging any relief indefinitely. 

“And what would daddy think of you now?” he snarls, pulling out and smacking the side of your face with his cock, “When are you gonna stop letting that old man run your life?”

The question comes out of nowhere, shocking you enough to give you pause. His nostrils are flared again, and his chest heaving; he looks furious. He takes full advantage, a firm grip around your upper arm pulling you to your feet before he does exactly as he’d threatened, tearing your outfit off in one effortless tug. The question of what you’ll be going home in flits across your mind, but it’s background noise, drowned out by the confusion at his sudden uncharacteristic question and the oceans swirling in his eyes staring down at you.

“I hate what you do to me.” Words you weren’t sure you were meant to hear push the air from your lungs as he tugs you towards the bedroom, your feet following until your back hits the soft down comforter stretched across his bed. 

You want to contemplate what he means by that, but he doesn’t give you time. He’s nudging your legs apart with his knees, his cock flushed practically purple in his grip as he finds you dripping wet and ready for him. There’s nothing slow or gentle about the way he fills you in one hard thrust, his arms immediately pulling you upright and flush to his chest, your thighs trembling from the burning stretch between your legs as he lifts you slightly and lets you sink down onto him.

“You know, out of everyone,” he purrs, all signs of his previous anger neatly tucked away, “your pussy is still my favorite.”

Whatever of his anger had quelled now coiled in your belly at his words, and you shove at his shoulders, his unsuspecting body toppling over with a clumsy “oof!” as your knees straddle his thin waist. 

“Ohoo, ha! That makes you mad doesn’t it?” he taunts as you do your best to pin his wrists above his head with two hands, “That you have to share.”

It’s a thought that shouldn’t irk you in the slightest, but it makes your eyes flash green with envy. He doesn’t even flinch as you hold him in place despite how easily he could overpower you in less than a second. Tufts of white hair fan out around his head like a halo for a man anything but angelic, his hands wriggling free just enough to entwine his fingers with yours. You go from feeling in control to once again at his mercy as he cradles your palms in his, the gentle press of his lips to the point of your chin waking the butterflies in your stomach. There’s no reason for him to be this reverent, this intimate, he was spitting in your mouth just minutes ago, but he continues his soft path, your head turning to allow him to trace your jaw and find the sensitive hollow behind your ear.

“Now you know how I feel,” he breathes, and you clench around him as a shiver shoots down your spine.

The sharp point of his nose grazes along your skin and you’re twitching on him now, but you’re too content like this to move. He’s so close, you feel hypnotized, almost serene as you breathe him in and just feel him. The worst part is that he gives in, letting you have this tease of a moment, a flickering and fleeting ruse of something that will be ripped away. You like holding his hand, as it turns out, his grip is strong and delicate all the same, his fingers practically at the bend of your wrist. You’re just breathing each other’s air now, noses bumping as your eyes flutter closed, and part of you just wants to collapse and fall asleep.

“Am I still a prick?” he asks with a devious lilt.

“Yeah,” you confirm, but for reasons that aren’t entirely his fault.

“Hmm. Want me to be nice to you?”

Life will be easier moving forward if you refuse his offer, but before your train of thought catches up with the autopilot currently in control, you’d already nodded. 

The pillow is soft under your head as he flips you onto your back, your bodies still connected while he situates himself comfortably between your legs. With the first slow roll of his hips, a kiss to your forehead sends your knees into his ribs, his smile stretching across your dewy skin before he repeats it all over again. It’s cruel, and immediately you loathe the woman who has seen this side of him before you have. 

“You need to relax,” he commands, flicking his tongue out against your pursed lips, “Before you drive me insane. How long d’you think I can make it with you clamped around me like this, huh?”

“Aren’t you the strongest?” you sass in reply, trying to distract yourself, and he laughs.

“Most of the time.”

He’s found the angle that drives you mad, every drive of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that inches you towards ecstasy. Your vision goes white around the edges, his lips still close enough to kiss but neither of you can focus enough to close the distance. At some point, your fingers had wound into his hair and his in yours, the muffled whines and gasping breaths escaping into the room more obscene than the guttural cries of his name of times past. This was raw, honest, desperate. He’s muttering obscenities as he tugs hard enough to have your scalp twinging, the sudden pressure of a hand clasping your throat dragging you up to the surface.

“I need you to…” He’s wrecked, sweat dripping down his temples, his hair stuck to his face, “I need you to come. I can’t…”

A reassurance that he can cut the act and do what he needs to is cut short by a blinding, white-hot wave surging from your middle outwards. Your nails seek to permanently indent their half-moon shapes into the marbled perfection of his back while your face buries in his neck. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can feel the vibration of his voice against your cheek until your senses begin to regulate, and it’s then you realize it’s a pleading whine of your name he’s been chanting like a prayer. 

Panic sets in, he looks like he’s in agony, his face twisting and eyes clamped shut but when your hands cup his jaw it melts away. A lazy kiss allows you both to settle, lips tugging and pulling, tongues brushing softly, and you can feel him softening inside of you as his cum and yours soaks your inner thighs and drips onto the bed. You want to know what he’s thinking, but his face is unreadable now, it’s almost as if he’s half asleep, opting to rest down on your chest for just a moment, his ear directly over your still-hammering heart.

There’s no time to decipher exactly what had just transpired. It’s better that way. He lifts you with ease and carries you to the shower, his fingers scrubbing your hair before he drops to his knees in front of you–a silent plea to return the favor. You take it slow, scraping over his scalp and combing through his thick locks until his head falls to your stomach. You stay until the water runs cold, not a word is said, and there’s no use in translating the silence. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he chuckles as he passes you a t-shirt from his drawer, watching intently as you pull it over your head before focusing on the way the hem hits the middle of your thighs, “Maybe you’ll have to climb in through a window like the old days.”

The memory makes you smile. 

He’s in nothing but sweatpants when he walks out with a wink, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed with a towel in your hair. Once you leave this room he’ll call you a taxi, and then it’ll be tomorrow. So you sit there surrounded by everything that makes Satoru him. Empty soda bottles on the nightstand, mochi wrappers surrounding a half-empty trash can, his uniform for tomorrow folded and set neatly on a chair in the corner of the room beside the moonlit window, expensive watches he rarely wore, an array of sunglasses, and a single photo of him, Shoko, and Suguru Geto from their second year at Jujutsu High tucked back on the dresser like a relic he dares not move.

When you finally shake the lead from your feet and trudge into the kitchen, Satoru’s at the stove, music playing lightly from his phone on the counter, the symphony of the orchestral tune mixing with the sound of metal scraping on a pan. As you approach the table, he slides a plate across to you, your stomach rumbling at the sight.

“What’s this?” you squeak out, staring down at his offering.

“An omelet,” he states bluntly, flipping the one he’d started for himself.

It’s like an anvil has been dropped on your chest, the control on the tears that had been threatening to break free since he’d pressed worshipful kisses to your stomach in the shower waning. It’s insane that for a moment you consider he actually cares, the lack of common decency you’re shown in your daily life making every gesture grand, even something as simple as this.

“Do you…not like omelets anymore?” he asks, you hadn’t realized how long you’d been in a staring contest with your late-night snack.

“I do.” Your throat is closing in on itself and it’s becoming impossible to mask.

“Okay…”

Etiquette takes over, and you sit to take a bite of what he’s prepared for you, but the small piece you’ve cut off only makes it halfway to your trembling lips before it goes clattering down to the table. 

“What is–” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Why?” The question is much more harsh than you intend.

“Why what?”

“This.”

“Because your stomach has been gurgling since I picked you up. It’s annoying. And you said you wanted me to be nice to you.”

You can’t help the knowing laugh that snaps you both out of whatever daze you’d been trapped in. Your appetite ducks and runs once again and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all part of the act; he could be whatever it was you wanted, all you had to do was ask as long as the request wasn’t honesty. If he won’t call you a cab, you can get one yourself, and you find your discarded bag on the counter on the other side of him, but of course, he blocks your path.

“What is your problem?” The concerned furrow of his brow almost makes this all believable, like he can feel remorse.

Footsteps coming up the sidewalk catch not only your attention but his, and although he slips around you to separate you from whatever lies on the other side, his arm held out to keep you safely pressed behind him, your anger has already taken over.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you snap, shoving at the barrier of infinity he’s activated.

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Is your next visitor here? It is a Friday, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Tch. I was working before I dropped everything to come rescue you. Left poor Megumi to finish the job on his own.”

“As if you couldn’t have just done it yourself.” You mimic the way he unleashes that destructive purple technique, flicking against his invisible wall right behind his ear with your middle finger, “Just let me leave–”

“With no pants? Good luck.”

The color drains from your face when it isn’t a woman’s voice heard on the other side of the door, but a very familiar one. Three raps of a wooden cane echo through the palpable silence, your body going rigid in terror as the sound of your pulse turns deafening.

“What did you do…” you mutter under your breath, backing away from Satoru who’s playing the part of shocked exceptionally well, “What the fuck did you do?”

“What did I do?!” he responds in a hushed, frantic whisper.

“You called him.”

“Of all the stupid conclusions you’ve had in your life!”

“Gojo!” your father’s voice echoes through the room, “GOJO!”

PART II Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs=love

{{Masterlist}}

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

chance of showers

pairing: leon x reader

cws: piss, p in v, pee in v, ddlg

a/n: yeah, it was bound to happen, wasn't it? the double sin of ddlg and piss

wc: 1.5k

These days, Leon bids you adieu in the threshold between your typical affection and your faux-innocence facade that comes with a side of fuck-me eyes. That’s when Daddy takes over. 

When he comes home from work, he can sense the desperation threatening to boil over into teary-eyed, delirious begging so he gives you an offer you can’t refuse: he’ll be your chauffeur to the not-quite-luxurious sex-filled sanctuary of your shared bedroom. That is to say, he’ll carry you across the hall where he can fuck you stupid without all the back pain that a couch rendezvous would give him.

You greet him with a hug and a heart-eyed grin, immediately discarding all previous activities for his attention. You’ve been gorilla-glue stuck to the TV all day due to the once a week chance to watch all the High School Musical movies on cable — which Leon still pays for — one after the other. He can tell by your antsy legs, shifting from one foot to the other. It’s not nerves– daddy makes you relaxed. No, it’s a cute little pee-pee dance.

“Do you need to do something before we go have some fun together?”

“Uh-uh. I wanna have special time with daddy now.”

“Are you sure? If you need to go pee, daddy can wait for you.”

“I don’t need to go.”

Leon doesn’t need a polygraph test to know that’s a fucking lie. 

But, you’re a big girl, or, at least, you’ve insisted that you are whenever Leon challenges that silly little ‘fact’ you’ve tried to manifest into reality. 

The reality is: you need daddy’s help, particularly when you’re in this state. 

Leon should take you by the hand and lead you to the bathroom, he should tell, not ask. But, it’s like letting your toddler touch the hot stove just once – they’ll learn their lesson and they’ll never do it again. 

You’re an adult who has the reasoning skills to know that you should pee. Plus, it’s not like pissing yourself is anything more than an embarrassing moment and a bitch to clean up. 

So, Leon doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he has you how he wants you. All fucked-out, your pussy stuffed so full you can see his dick in your abdomen and your brain completely empty of all thoughts (and your bladder so full he could make you burst if he pressed on your stomach with enough force). 

As he often does, Leon makes you ride him because he thinks it’s cute to watch you struggle, and he inevitably takes over the job of gripping your hips and pulling them back down to meet his. Over and over again until you think you’re going to pass out. 

Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is occupied with your constant moaning – until you have an ‘uh-oh’ moment. Leon can see it flash across your face. 

“Daddy,” you manage through a shaky voice. “No more, no more.”

The thing is: No more isn’t your safe word. No more is usually what you say when everything feels so intense that you’re overwhelmed and need Leon’s reassurance. He rubs your back and showers you in praise while he continues to fuck you as the unwritten protocol says he should. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“No, no,” you protest, shaking your head vehemently. “Have to go pee, daddy.”

“Baby, we’ve been through this before, remember? The first time you squirted, you thought you were gonna pee, but you didn’t. You liked that feeling, right?”

It’s true. You were absolutely convinced you’d pee yourself the first time Leon made you squirt, but you both suspect this time is different. 

“No, I’m really gonna pee this time.”

You’re clenching around him, he can feel it. Maybe you are going to squirt, he thinks. 

Piss is hardly the worst thing Leon’s been covered in – he’s 40 years old, old enough to give up on giving a fuck about this kind of thing. And, God, he’ll take any chance to tease you. 

“Didn’t Daddy ask you if you needed to go pee earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

“Was that a lie? Did you lie to Daddy?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, since you made your choice by yourself and didn’t want daddy’s help, you’re not gonna get it. You can hold it until I’m done with you.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“Then, I guess you’ll just have to let it out.”

“No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want to. I wanna hold it.”

Go right ahead, he thinks, as he continues to fuck you, completely disregarding your desperation. He wants to see you break and at this point, you’re doing anything to hold back, on the verge of tears. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you start to cry as warm liquid trickles out of you, coating his cock little by little as pee continues to flow from you. You only leak a little in the grand scheme of things, but you’re humiliated, full-on crying to the point where it’s worrisome.

Finally, he slows his thrusts. 

“Hey,” he rubs your back soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I told you you could do it. I’m not mad at you.”

“It’s so embarrassing.”

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I bet it felt good to let go. Didn’t it?”

“A little bit… but I still have to go more.”

“Then, go, baby. Let it out.”

Because, one, it doesn’t matter at this point – he’ll have to change the sheets anyway. And, two, he finds the whole ordeal a bit more arousing than he suspected he would. 

When you dare to make eye-contact, you’ve got doubt written all over you, like you think this is some sort of trap or a sacrifice of his comfort for yours. 

“Go ahead. It’s gonna feel good.”

Nervous, but desperate, you have to let go. 

Leon praises you as you finally allow yourself some relief, releasing short bursts and then a steady stream. 

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Let it all out.”

When the torrential downpour slows to a leaky faucet, his thumb finds its way to your clit and he resumes his thrusts, gaining momentum steadily. 

Your next revelation is not an ‘uh-oh’, just an ‘oh’ in a series of incoherent moans. 

“Daddy, daddy, I’m gonna-”

“I know you are.”

Neither of you can be sure if your next release is pee or squirt but what matters is that you came, squeezing Leon’s cock so perfectly that he’s barely hanging on by the time you’re coming down from your  high. 

Usually, he asks you where you want it, makes you beg for it inside, and he finally gives it to you, but now, his face is already buried in the crook of your shoulder as he’s given into the pleasure. 

He fills you to the brim, ruins the bed a little more for the sake of a heavenly orgasm. It’s totally fucking worth it every time. 

After a moment of silence, he pats you on the butt and says, “hop up, baby”.

“No,” you protest, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Baby, I’ll come right back, but I gotta pee.”

He laughs a little at the irony. It feels cruel in a way to make you piss yourself while he gets a more dignified experience. 

You’re ready to even out the score, quick to turn the tables. 

“No,” you insist. “You can either hold it or wait until I’m done with you.”

Leon should’ve anticipated your smartass move. 

“You really want me to piss inside you? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t let me get up.”

It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s a plea for you to let him go. 

“It’s only fair,” you say. 

“Fine,” he concedes, repositioning you so that you’re on your back. Yeah, he could get up, he could win now that he’s on top, but maybe there’s a part of him that wants to do this. To make you regret your attitude when you find out what it feels like for Leon to piss inside you, to prove something to you, to punish you – there are so many excuses, but the truth is: the idea excites him. 

“You ready?” he asks – though the question is more directed at himself as stage fright begins to creep up inside him. 

“You can do it, daddy,” you say, voice full of genuine encouragement rather than your previous taunting tone. 

So, he does. The release is double the relief with your warmth surrounding him as he lets go. You look awfully curious, almost in awe of the fact that it’s happening, especially since you can’t exactly see it – at least, not yet. But Leon’s feeling the type of relaxation that less obstinate people get from meditation. 

“All done,” he says, knowing that’s a fucking lie, but pulling out anyway, letting the last droplets hit you on the stomach.

“Daddy!” you say, amusement barely hidden behind your mild vexation. 

“Sorry,” he says with a shrug and a smirk that says he’s anything but. 

“I think it’s time for a trip to the bathroom. We really need to shower,” you say. 

“Hey, I just gave you a little bit of a shower, baby. If you wanted more, you could’ve asked.”

But that kind of shower will have to wait until next time. 

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Show And Tell- Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: When matt takes your virginity and shows you how to make yourself feel better about not being so experienced in the sex world

Warnings: Smut, Inexperienced!sub!reader, Experienced!Dom!Matt, praising, cursing, use of Y/N, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex (Safe sex is great sex, cause you don’t want that late text that I think I'm late text- Lil Wayne), TW! brief talk of emotionally absent parents!

A/N: i absolutely love writing sweet Matt, but what i love writing more is MATT THE MF MUNCHHHH!!

psa: DONT STEAL MY WORK!! THIS BELONGS TO ME MYSELF AND I!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ever since Middle school Nick, Matt, Chris, and I have been inevitable. Their mother, Mary Lou, has always taken me in as her own, considering I was the youngest out of 5 in my family, and my parents had me later in life, as soon as I learned how to care for myself, they quit raising me and only came through in times they ‘needed’ to be parents. Mary Lou was the woman I called my mother. whenever they went on a family vacation I always went with them. To the mall? I went. She basically had Quadruplets. When the triplets moved to LA, we were all over 18, and I was more than ready to leave my parent's house even though I had pretty much moved in with them for how much I stayed over, so I moved with them. I offered to get an apartment close by, but all of them collectively agreed and even argued with me about it, so now we all live in the same house.

Today was pretty much a normal day in the house, very calm, no one was filming, and we just did our own things. Matt and I had no plans, Chris went out shopping with some friends, and Nick had meetings and then dinner plans with Tara for a collab idea which left Matt and I at the house.

“Cant believe that you and my mother BOTH collectively agreed to let me walk out of the house looking like that” Matt said laughing showing me a memory that popped up on his moms Facebook page.

“To be fair you were dead set on wearing that entire outfit and your mom and I both knew we couldn't talk you out of that” I said laughing back and throwing my hands up in defense.

“That's when I dated Cassie too, how gross,” he said giving himself the Ick.

“She was the town whore, what'd you expect,” I say giggling at my comment.

“You know I never asked, whatever happened to Jackson? I just recalled he spread some rumor about him taking your virginity, and a bunch of other stuff, and you came to the house crying and Mom was comforting you and you never spoke about that again” he looks over at me as my head hung low looking at my hands.

Jackson was a guy I ‘dated’ junior year of high school, he took me on one date, it was very nice and he seemed amazing, though I should've listened to Nick when he told me Jackson was no good. After our date instead of taking me home he insisted on talking more and drove to the park in the middle of the city. His intentions were not pure. Jackson tried every which way to get me in the backseat, I rejected many many times that night and made some excuse on how I was on my period and that immediately grossed him out. Come to find out, as soon as we got back to school he spread a rumor around the entire school that he had taken my virginity and told the school I was into weird kinks. I knew I couldn't go to my mother about that because she would have taken me directly to the health clinic to ‘check if I was still pure’ so I went to Mary Lou, i and made sure to tell her to tell the boys not to bring it up to me and try their best to shut it down.

“I uh thought i told you about what happened?” i lied and nervously laughed.

“Nope,” he said popping the ‘p’ “I'm pretty sure I would have remembered something that important to where my own mother had to come to me, Nick, and Chris, and tell us not to talk to you about it, plus I mean it's been 4 years if you don't wanna talk about it I understand,” he said reassuring me.

I've always felt comfortable with all 3 of them, and always had a special relationship with all of them, and trust them with my life. I never went to them about this because I was embarrassed I was a virgin, I wasn't gonna tell them I didn't lose my virginity, considering both Matt and Chris came to me about sex advice I didn't want them to look at me any different for not being experienced enough so I lied and told them that Jackson did take my virginity but I wasn't into the weirder stuff Jackson accused me of.

“Fuck” I mutter under my breath. “Okay so, I just wanna say one thing before I tell you what actually happened between Jackson and me” I look back at him with nerve piercing through my body.

“Y/N, you know you can tell me anything” Matt adjusts himself to face me.

“So don't judge me,” I start taking a deep breath. “So Jackson made up that entire rumor,” I take my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m extremely confused” he scratched the back of his head laughing.

“God this is embarrassing” I place my head in my hands “fuck it, so he didn't take my virginity at all, and obviously the kink thing was a lie” I look up at him who still has a puzzled look on his face.

“So if Jackson didn't take your virginity then who did? Cause you basically swore off dating after him” he raises his eye brows in confusion.

“No one, Matt, I'm a uh Virgin” I drop my head down in embarrassment fiddling with my fingers.

“No fucking way, you gave both Chris and me AMAZING sex advice, stop fucking with me Y/N/N” he said laughing.

“Matt I'm being for real,” I shoot him an awkward smile “and please the sex advice ain't nothing, I know what I would like so I kinda made an assumption and by the looks of it, I'm guessing it worked” I nervously laughed.

“Holy shit,” his eyes go wide “why haven't you, you know?”

“It's hard for me to trust people, especially with something like that,” I shrugged my shoulders “When I hit puberty, my mother gave me a ‘save yourself till marriage’ talk instead of informing me of my body she scared me from sex, but I had gone to your mom one day when you three were hanging with Nate and she actually gave me that kinda talk and more or less told me to always make sure I felt safe and in the hands of someone I trust, and Jackson did neither of those things” I continue to fiddle with my fingers.

“You trust me right?” he says curiously

“Matt don't be stupid, yes I do” I lightly giggle. “Why is that even a question?”

“ah fuck it, never mind” he brushes it off.

“No, no, I told you something that no one knows so come on speak up,” I lightly push his arm.

“I was gonna say I could teach you a couple things about sex but i ain't too sure you'd be down for that anyway” he shrugged his shoulders turning his body back towards the TV.

“What if I was down?” I look at him through my lashes.

His head jerks in my direction, “actually?” his eyes light up.

“Matt do you know how embarrassing it is to be an almost 21-year-old who's never had sex,” a soft giggle escaped my lips.

“Have you ever like, touched yourself before?” he said slightly cringing at his words.

I was a little taken aback by his curiosity “I mean yeah, once or twice” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Did you like ever finish from that?” he shifts his body back in my direction. “I know this sounds a bit invasive but I promise if you want to do this I have a reason for asking these questions” he placed his hand on my knee.

“No… it just um” I swallow the lump in my throat “I just couldn't..”

“So you've never experienced anything sexual?” the curiosity in his voice makes me feel safer and know he's not judging me and is actually caring enough to ask and not just crawling on top of me and getting down to it.

“Nope,” I say softly

He slowly nods “Do you want to learn?” his voice goes soft.

“H-how?” I stutter out.

“Obviously if you feel comfortable enough with it, I could be the one to show you, If you catch my drift” he sends me a reassuring smile.

“Y-you would take my virginity?” I ask nervously.

“Only if you want me to” his voice trails off

“What about Nick and Chris? God that would be awkward if they walked in or something, oh my god I don't want them to think any-” he cuts me off

“Woah slow down, it's okay, they won't be back till like 9, and it's 4 now, we'll be okay kid” he laughed rubbing soft circles with his thumb over my knee. “Do you want to do this?”

I nod softly. “No this is important to you, I want your verbal consent that this is okay” he moves closer to me.

“Yes, please, I want this, all of this,” I say softly adjusting my body closer to his.

He smiles leaning closer to my face and softly pressing his lips against mine. My eyes fall shut and I turn into jello as I feel the way his hand that was once on my knee moves up toward my hip. A small smile creeps upon both of our lips. I softly pull away.

“Can we not do this on the couch?” I say laughing a little

“Absolutely,” he stands up almost immediately and picks me up bridal style walking into his room and kicking the door open as I giggle like a kid in a candy store.

He carefully sets me down on his blue silk sheets crawls on top of me and presses his lips onto mine once again making a soft groan travel between our lips.

“Can I take this off?” he says softly playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Yes” I bite my bottom lip

He smiles down at me and pulls my shirt off leaving me in my bra. He hooks his finger under my bra strap rubbing his finger up and down just looking down at me. “You're so beautiful. I don't ever tell you much” his comment makes a soft pink shade appear on my cheeks.

He leans down again kissing me and pointing his tongue out for permission to enter, my mouth opens slightly as his tongue explores my mouth, and this time his hands start to grab at my covered breast. “You can take it off, Matt” I giggle between kisses.

He gave me no response but his left hand held my lower back and his right unclasped my bra letting it fall right off my shoulders. He pulled away from kissing me and looked down at my breast in awe. “God you're Fucking beautiful” he mutters.

His mouth begins leaving kisses down from my jawline to my collarbone and stopping at my breast looking up at me through his lashes almost asking for permission without asking. I shoot him a smile and nod and his tongue licks softly across my nipple sending shivers down my spine. He smirks to himself attaching his mouth to one of my nipples and slightly tugging at my other. He sucks and nips at my nipples taking them between his teeth every now and again. My breathing gets heavier at the sensitivity and my head falls back as a soft whimper falls from my mouth.

He lifts his head up and places himself between my legs to unbuckle my shorts, shimmy them down my legs, and throws them with the pile of clothes next to the bed. He admires my choice of underwear today, smirking as they're unironically his favorite color, purple, with a tiny little bow right up top. He hooks his finger at the top of them sliding back and forth before sliding them down my legs leaving me bare beneath him.

“such a pretty fucking pussy” he groans out. he leans his head down and spits down onto my aching pussy. using his thumb he slowly moves up and down.

“Holy fuck” I gasp out.

Matt chuckles and moves his body down where his head is now between my legs. His thumb is still slowly going up and down he begins kissing down my thighs on both sides. “I want you” he places another kiss on my thigh “to tell me” Another kiss “What feels good to you alright?” he places a kiss right above my clit.

“O-okay” I say nervously

“And please don't be afraid to tell me to stop” he gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod sending him the same warm smile. He starts to place a soft kiss on my clit before flattening his tongue on my pussy and licking a stripe up and groaning once the taste of me hits his tongue.

“Oh, Matt” My breathing hitches and I throw my head back in pleasure.

His tongue begins to flick up at a faster pace making moans spill out of my mouth, his eyes are fixated on me and how my body reacts to his mouth pleasuring me.

“Fuck you're so fucking good at this” My fingers run through his hair forcing his head deeper into me.

He moans into me sending vibrations through my body as my hips jerk up and my eyes roll back. His lips attach to my clit sucking on it a little causing a squeal to fall from my mouth.

“Fuck i-i I think I'm gonna cum” I stutter out as an unfamiliar knot forms in the pit of my stomach

“Mhm” he mutters before lifting his head “Let it go sweet girl” he lowers his head again taking my clit between his teeth and flicking upwards on it.

“Oh my FUCK” I scream out when that knot snapped a wave of euphoria pierced my body and my orgasm dripped out of me making Matt move his body to watch it happen.

He wiped his mouth using his arm smiling “you okay baby?” he chuckled.

“Fuck” I breathe out “If that's why people are sex addicts I see why god damn that was amazing” I smiled up at him.

“I'm not even done yet” he smirks lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room.

“Are you 100% positive you want this?” he asks as he stands up removing his belt.

“This is the first decision I've ever made that I'm 100% positive I won't regret,” I say as I watch him remove his pants and free his cock with his tip red and throbbing for attention.

He climbs back and moves me farther up on the bed. “Fuck there's no way that's gonna fit in me, that's fucking massive,” I say as my eyes stare at his cock.

“It'll fit baby” he chuckles “shit I don't have a condom,” he says rummaging through his bedside table.

“I'm on birth control, you don't need one” I smile up at him.

“Are you sure?” he smirks.

“Yes Matt,” I smile batting my lashes up at him.

“Okay then” he brings his hand up to his mouth and spits in it before gliding his now wet hand to coat his aching cock. “I gonna go slow, inch by inch and you tell me when to move, and tell me if it hurts too much I'll stop immediately,” he says aligning his cock with my entrance.

“Okay,” I breathe out.

As his tip slowly enters me I hiss. “Are you okay?” he says with a concerned look on his face.

“I'm okay just hurts” I reply biting my lower lip.

He slowly enters another couple of inches. Watching how my face nuzzled up at the new feeling. Then he slides in another few inches. After a couple of minutes, he's fully bottomed out. “Look at that, you're doing so fucking amazing,” he says adjusting himself closer to my face and brushing loose strands out of my face.

“Y-you can move,” I say nodding slowly.

He smiles before slowly thrusting out and moving towards my hips as the pain I once felt turns into pleasure in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, matt fuck faster please” I plead gripping his biceps for support.

“God you're so fucking tight” his pace speeds up as he lowers his body and begins kissing my neck and groaning into me.

“S-so fucking big” I moan out.

He rolls his hips towards mine and slams them into me. His grunts become harsher. “Fuck” he growled in my ear. “I love the way you feel wrapped around me” he moans in my ear which is almost a whimper.

“Matt” I scream out as his cock finally and repeatedly kisses my G-spot.

“Someone close eh?” he lifts up sadistically grinning at me.

I nod vigorously as my legs begin twitching and shaking around his waist and that knot forms in my stomach for the second time tonight.

“Cum all over my fucking dick baby, I know you can do it,” he said as his thrusts become sloppy.

With just his words that knot snapped in my stomach and formed a white ring around the base of his cock as my cum coats his cock. With a couple more thrusts he nuzzles his head in my neck and paints my walls a shade of white. He slowly pulls out careful not to hurt me.

“Fuck you're amazing” I breath out coming down from my euphoric state.

“Yeah? You did fucking amazing,” he smiles down at me laying next to me and pulling me into a cuddled skin-to-skin hug.

“Thank you matt” I mutter into his chest.

“No problem sweetheart” he kissed the top of my head. “You know I'd do anything for you” he softly whispers making me smile and nuzzle into him more.

“Do you want me to run you a nice bath? Or you wanna go get food? What do you wanna do, cause we got about 2 hours till Nick and Chris come home” he pulls away looking at me.

“We can shower and I can cook for us” I smile at him.

“Perfect” he smiles at me and picks me up bridal style again to carry me to the bathroom.

The way he cared for me, I knew I made the right decision. Losing my virginity to the man I knew I could trust.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: TY TO THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS!! BECAUSE THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE!! anyways i hope you guys are having an amazing evening, afternoon, morning, or night!! and i love you guys!! 🩷🩷

[spookykoolkat]

eddie m. – you're just so sweet

MDNI!!!! 18+ only! read at ur own risk!

chapter 1: that damn bikini

part two here | main masterlist

dad's friend!eddie munson x daughter!plussize reader

na: first eddie munsons x reader smut, and i'm excited! more parts to this series of course, but pls let me know ur thoughts! suggestions for the next part or upcoming parts, i love feedback!!

warnings: age gap (18 years), reader is 25, eddie is 43, mentions of self image issues, foreplay (fingering), dirty talk, talks of oral sex (f receiving), talks of penetration (p in v), and more!

Wrong. It's just wrong, and you knew why. Eddie had been around for the longest time. Every family party, every dinner, every birthday. He watched you be sent off to college by your parents, he watched you turn eighteen, he watched you learn how to drive, and he watched you turn into a woman. The thing you hated was the fact that he never looked at you the way you wanted him to, and you tried since you turned 18.

It was so annoying. He saw you grow into a woman yet still paid no mind to the little girl in the house, focusing on his friendship with your parents, more specifically your father. Now, you're back from living in California for a week just in time for your mother's birthday. She was turning 47, your dad standing at 50, and Eddie standing at 43. And here you were, at the store at a whopping 25 years old, buying booze for the parents and the parents friends. You handed the cashier a crisp 100 dollar bill and took the brown paper bag after being handed your change and receipt.

Get your shit together.

It's been a long day, and it's going to be an even longer night, especially with Eddie being inevitably being there. It's been almost 5 years since Eddie last saw you, and now it's become clear you've grown into yourself. You were bigger—everywhere. Bigger breasts, bigger thighs, bigger stomach, bigger arms, bigger ass—anything that could've grown, grew times five. You embraced your weight, your lifestyle, your body, and you knew that no matter what you looked like, you felt like you. But the closer you approached your parents very large house, the closer you felt you were walking into a bear trap willingly. There was a part of you that appreciated the fact that your father's friend wasn't a creep. He wasn't counting down the days you turned 18, like you thought. You thought maybe you'd turn 18 and that he'd try dropping hints, or acknowledging you in the way you wanted. But nothing.

It was maddening. The last time you saw him was on Christmas break from college, and he gifted you a bracelet with your UNI colors. Innocent, small gift to show he cared about you, but also almost setting a boundary.

But now pulling into your family's neighborhood, you spot the house you grew up in and the four cars parked out in front. One black truck belonging to Eddie himself, the other three belonging to your mom and dad. You wondered if he was still the punk rock, shirtless auto-mechanic, guitar playing Eddie. Maybe he'd grown out of the black nail polish and long shag he had, maybe he'd become a business man rather than an occasional entertainer by night and a body shop owner by day. You knew Eddie had been a metalhead since his high school days, you overheard conversations about his bandmates who were also his high school friends, about his endless partying and drinking era, you heard everything. It made you wonder if you had been in high school when he was, would he have looked your way?

"It's fine, it's just a week. You can do this," you breathed, parking on the curb and grabbing your purse and the bag of booze, stepping out into the humid hot air of Texas.

The entire walk to the front door was like walking on pins and needles, it was agonizing because the entire time you were imagining just what Eddie would say seeing you. It wasn't that you had never met another man, you weren't a virgin and hadn't been for a long time. It was the fact that every man you fucked, you were bored. It was abrupt, painful and not good pain, dry, no effort, no foreplay, no love. You hated it, but still indulged for something to scratch the itch you had.

You knocked on the door and three seconds later, it opens to your mothers face.

"Oh, baby doll you're here!" She squeals, her short frame hugging you tight as you hug her back

"Happy birthday mama, I love you," You say and kiss her head. That's when you look up and see him. He was exactly the same. Sporting a wife beater with a very worn black flannel and black cargo pants, his hair curly and long still in his shapely shag, his eyes wide and puppy like as he stares you down as if he'd never seen you before. To be fair, he never saw you like this. Eddie Munson never looked at you as anything more than his friends daughter, his buddy's kid.

"Hey kid," He said, sporting a small smile as he soaks you up. Eddie was even a little confused, wondering why he himself was taking in your person more than usual. He was a single man in his early forties, still refusing to get with a woman if she doesn't at least know a single metal song. He had standards, they were low, but standards by any means.

Your mother lets go and grabs the bag of booze, releasing you to greet Eddie. You go to embrace him, your face hitting his silver chains sitting on his sternum.

"Hey Munson," You said, a small smile in your voice and he wraps his arms around you tight, lifting you off your feet like you were a kid and spun you.

"That really you kid? Didn't even recognize you with the new bling on your face," he joked, setting you to stand on your feet with his help of stabilizing you.

He poked the new metal through your face on both eyebrows and your septum. He flicks them with an intrigued gaze, and you swat his hand.

"Yeah, guess I'm just like someone I know," and you take your finger to flick at his single brow piercing he got over the years. You always admired his accessories, as you called them. His tattoos, his piercing, his scars, his rings. You remembered when you spent days looking out your window at the man who was your neighbor, mowing your and his lawn, plucking weeds, and even occasional gardening. You saw the way he sweat and how it made his tattoos glossy, wanting to trace over all of them with just your fingers.

"Mm, I'm flattered sweetheart. Taking after your old man huh?" He said as he finally took a small glance at your body. You noticed of course, but he thought he was slick as ice.

"Something like that. Just coming into my own." You smile, backing up a little as you remembered your bags.

"Yeah, that I can tell," he mumbles under his breath.

"Huh?" You asked, hearing a small grumble from him that he didn't expect you to hear.

"Oh, uh, you have your bags right? I'll get em for you. You just sit and look pretty," He grins, gliding past you fast enough for you to get a whiff of the smell of weed and cologne and smoke. You almost felt like a cartoon character smelling a pie from a window sill, how were you going to do this?

He wasn't sure the emotions he was feeling as of now were appropriate or not. As he opened the trunk of your small car, he pulled the pink suitcase out as well as a black backpack you had. Packing light, he noticed. How long were you staying? And how did you turn into a woman over night?

He was ashamed to admit to himself he thought about feeling every curve of your body when he had his arms around you. Fighting the urge, he resulted to the lift and spin. Eddie never looked at anyone at all. Let alone a woman almost twenty years younger than him. He was cursing at himself every step back into the house after shutting the trunk, telling himself to cool it, relax.

"I can take them up to my room, thank you." You said looking up at him, reaching for the handle of the suitcase.

"Nah, no can do, who would I be if I let you do this yourself?" He shunned, nudging your hand away with his elbow, his hand gripping the strap of the backpack.

Eddie decided to drag your suitcase up the stairs while humming to some song that didn't ring a bell for you, and you followed. You weren't as nervous anymore, not feeling any need to be. You knew nothing would happen between you two, and you were, not happy about it, but okay about it.

"Where to, madam?" He asked, stopping in the hall of where four doors are.

"Straight down, first door to the right." You announced, scooting past him to lead into the room. When you made your way past him, he felt the graze of your hips hitting his, and the whiff of a sweet smelling fragrance, something close to something citrusy. You were tempting him and you didn't even know.

He wasn't stupid. He noticed you didn't look how you did before. He noticed the weight gain but with the weight, came height, and with height came growth everywhere. It was true what they said about turning 25, the second growth spurt turned you into the person you'll be for a while. And he noticed yours. But Eddie—he didn't see it the way your mother did, or even your old friends.

"We should go to the gym together, maybe start our diets at the same time."

"You're not sad are you? You're getting big, baby."

"You ever asked your doctor about how to lose weight?"

"What happened, mami? You used to be so skinny!"

He finally saw you. You were a fucking woman. You acted like it too, he heard it in your voice, saw it in your face. He saw it in your clothes, in your curves, the thickness you had everywhere. He almost salivated at it until you started trying to snap him out of his daze.

"You can put them right there, I said," You repeated, and Eddie gave a small breathy chuckle as he nodded and walked into the pink room filled with stuffed animals, posters, knick knacks and figurines.

"Nice room, missy." He said, setting down your backpack on the vanity chair pushed into the large desk.

"Didn't know you were such a fan of pink, ya know. You screamed more," He stopped and paused to think, pointer finger tapping his chin.

"I'll say light blue. More oceanic, lochness monster type thing." He said, making his way to the door. He noticed the reality of being a grown man in her childhood bedroom, and decided this was enough boundary pushing. You didn't know how sexy his aesthetic would be clashing against your girly pink room, seeing him so out of place was almost enjoyable.

"Well, let me know if you need anything, I'll be helping your parents set up everything for this ragerrrr," He says, sticking his tongue out and putting his fingers up to form the rockstar pose, bored.

"Right. I'll help too I just-" You started but he shook his head dramatically.

"Uh uh, I'm the guest, I'll help. You just get dressed so your mom doesn't flip on you for being late to her birthday party," he pointed at you and shot a small finger gun, making you laugh softly.

"Yeah, okay. See you," you said and he nodded,

"Back at you."

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

The pool was already being used by your guests, your mothers friends, their spouses and two to three kids playing in the grass. You watched from the window on the second floor facing the large backyard with people much older than you, drinking, socializing, and your father on the barbecue pit with Eddie Munson himself beside him. His sleeves were rolled up with a rag hanging out of his back pocket just like a chain in his other.

You were done getting ready at this time, three in the afternoon, and really all you did was put on a red two piece, a knitted black halter dress over, and some black platform sandals. Your hair was kept in a high bun with a clip and your face only had a touch of blush and lip gloss. You figured a full face would be a bit ridiculous since you plan on getting in the water and laying by the pool. You grabbed a towel from your closet and started to head out to the backyard.

"You're here!!" One of your mothers friends shouted the minute you slid open the backdoor, a smiling woman heading your way to pinch your cheeks and ask you all about college.

While you were distracted, Eddie followed as his eyes led him to you. Your father was talking his ear off and the minute his eyes reached you, it all sounded like he was underwater. No music, no chit chat, no birds. He heard nothing but gargles and muted voices as he watched you greet the older women. For Eddie, it felt like everything was in slow motion.

Even slower when you finally broke free from the women and made your way to an empty side of the pool.

"Ed, turn the fucking burger," Your father nudged Eddie, forcing him to whip his head around to the burning meat on the grill to flip and let the other side cook. He couldn't be doing this, he couldn't be watching you the way he was but the minute your father leaves to get another beer, his eyes went searching for you again. And when he found you, he felt his heart sink.

You stood there at the edge of the pool, in a tied up two piece bikini that was fire red, your arms up as your hands dance in your hair to pull the clip from within. The groan he let out was almost something he couldn't tell actually happened or not, but it was a low guttural groan. A hungry groan. He almost looked around to see if anyone saw what he saw, but realized everyone here is pushing 50. Of course they wouldn't be looking. But he was, and he was angry.

How dare you walk out in something of that nature? Skimpy, small, two pieces of cloth practically hiding nothing. Eddie could not pull his eyes off of you, and he didn't want to. It truly felt like he didn't know you, he didn't know this woman. He only knew you as the kid who rode on her bike in the early 2000s.

But that wasn't you anymore. You had a degree, you had a job, you drank and did drugs, you've had sex—a lot. You weren't a kid anymore, and he saw it now. He took particular interest in the way the bikini top did you so much justice, the way the fabric was pressed into your skin made him itch to rub himself in the way you had. He was enamored with you, with every step you took, your skin jiggled and moved. He liked seeing you like this more than he'd like to admit, he was enjoying this little show you didn't even know you were putting on. Without realizing, Eddie started ferociously eating the bag of chips that sat next to him, watching your every move as you test the waters with your toes, adjusting your bathing suit so you wouldn't flash anyone. His eyes were drowned in lust and want, and he was thinking about everything but your body in his hands so his little Eddie wouldn't tell on himself.

"Alright, they're done. Put em in the pan and take them inside," Your father ordered just as you had turned to walk towards the stairs of the pool. Eddie found himself distracted, by his own daughter, and moved the bag of chips to face his friend.

"Right, er, let me get them set," Eddie spoke, placing all the meat in the pan and taking them to be put inside so your mother can dress them and set up the food table.

You on the other hand, watched as he took them inside. Your feet dipping into the pool as he finally entered the house, you decided to fully submerge yourself just for a bit so you could get the heat off of you for a second, you'd do anything to get out of this heat. It wasn't like Cali, the air was dry and hot but this, Texas heat ruined you. The humidity, the heat, and the quality of air just did not mix well. The minute you came up, he was right back out again, drinking his beer and talking with your father. Your hands go to clear your face and rub your hands to slick back your hair, deciding to swim about a little as people start to clear the pool area to go and eat or drink more.

You enjoyed the emptiness of the pool and the sound of music blasting in the background, you ended up getting a little too relaxed and started to float mindlessly, letting your body lift with no hesitation.

Eddie decided to go home to change out of his clothes, the ones before him smelling like barbecue and rust. As he walks past the pool to go home, his eyes rake over your loose body now. Your eyes were closed and your arms were spread out, floating and relaxing, and he loved it.

When he got home, he put on a simple black tee with his faded leather jacket, black straight let jeans and his regular boots he wore without a fail. It was fast, quick, he wanted to return as fast as possible after cleaning up a bit and see you again. The fact that no conversation has really been ignited between the two of you was kind of bothering him, so once he came back he looked to find you out of the pool, lounging on one of the long white chairs lined against the right side of the pool. How odd did he feel sitting in the chair next to you layered in clothes, while you were two tugs away at being naked and bare. He did it anyways.

"You gonna stare or say something?" You asked, your hands blocking the sun from your eyes as you opened them to turn to his face.

"You remembered to use sunscreen?" He asked awkwardly. You raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Did you remember it's one hundred degrees in Texas and you're wearing all black. And a leather jacket?" You asked in a snarky tone, closing your eyes and letting your arm fall to your side.

"Mmm, I don't dress for the weather sweetness," The pet names were just pouring from his mouth at this point. He didn't want just to call you sweetheart and doll. He wanted to call you these things while you called out for him, against him.

"I see that."

"Don't think I've ever seen this set before," he said lowly, looking around almost to see if anyone heard him.

You did though. It made you curious. How couldn't it? He noticed your bathing suit, or lack thereof, and noticed your body. He'd been watching you.

"S' new, got it when I grew out of my other one. Didn't cover what I needed to hide so," You trailed off, eyes closed yet still feeling his wide eyes on you, and your body that carried rolls and cellulite, stretch marks and prominent tummy. You almost got a little self conscious being under his gaze, but still you trusted that he had no desire to you for any reason. He was just your fathers friend checking up on his friend's daughter, innocent, simple.

"Can't imagine what the other one looked like if it didn't cover anything up," the tone in his voice sounded different. More, protective? Possessive? Maybe you were deluding yourself of what you were hearing, maybe he just wanted to be an asshole and tell you to cover up more.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, blocking the sun from your eyes again to glance at Eddie. He's sitting facing you, his elbows on his knees with a drink in his hand.

"Nothing doll, I'll let you get back to your... whatever it is you're doing," He stood up and motioned with his hand, then left like nothing. Except it wasn't nothing. Except he had your full body engrained in his mind, replaying the mental screenshot he took, drinking you in as he walked towards the back of the yard, watching everyone including you. You went back to tanning, laying in the sun to earn a small change in your skin tone, something you don't do often because you never have the chance.

Eddie on the other hand did everything in his power to avoid his gaze from landing on you. He found himself growing a little obsessed with the way your body moved in that sad excuse of a bikini, how your breasts threatened to push themselves out of your top, how the curve of your ass kept the bikini bottom in place with every movement. He made a mental note of the way your stomach looked, how a bit of your lower tummy showed past the designated area of the small bottom, how pretty his hands would look squeezing and touching it while his head was sitting between your thighs. He thought you were gorgeous, there was no way a girl like you existed right under his nose. But Eddie never failed to keep his eyes on you, studying you, admiring you, wanting you.

As the party went on, it seemed like it got even more heated. By 7PM, the friends with kids were gone, and the friends who had nothing else to do were still drinking and dancing. You saw your mom in the crowd with your father, dancing as they pleased. You pretty much stayed by the pool all day, making it harder for Eddie to focus on the women trying to get him to talk. But you avoided Eddie's gaze even though you knew it stayed on you the entire day. It kind of bugged you honestly, you truly wondered why he'd be staring at you for so long if there was no attraction there.

"Yeah, uh, work's fine," He mumbled to the woman who looked about like she was in her late 30s, someone age appropriate. She wasn't ugly of course, he actually found her pretty cute, but he knew you were right there. The light of the sun going down dimming and shining golden on you made you look like you were godsend. Lying out with a knee raised and an arm thrown over your face, you felt tired and almost drained by the sun, but he kept watch.

"So-"

"Listen, you're really cute and I think if things were different, I'd be waaaaay more into this. It's not you, it's me?" He said, kind of shimmying away from this lady and on his way to get another beer.

While he dug in the coolers for a cold bottle, he sees a hand reach down and grab a Corona, one that he traced back to your body. His eyes raked over your body up close as he was trying to meet your eyes, and as he looked up at you from his crouched position, he let out a small, shy chuckle.

"Hey," He said as he pulled out a Bud Light, opening it swiftly with his shirt as he rose to his normal stature.

"Hiya," You stated. You were standing in your halter dress again, platforms hanging off two of your fingers with a beer in the other hand. It was a bit cooler at night, less humid, and your feet touched the bare grass as you stood.

"You're not a pool person huh? I know you have a pool at your place, don't use it much do you?" You asked, a little bit of a buzz coursing through your body after your third beer.

Eddie takes the beer from you, setting his down and opening yours before handing it back to you. He picks his up again and takes a swig while looking at you through the bottle.

"You watchin' me, aren't you?" He smiled, the rings on his fingers squeezing the neck of the bottle. All you could really think about was the way that hand would look squeezing all over your body, feeling the metal against you, how large his hands were compared to yours. You couldn't tell if it was the Texas heat making you hot or the thought of him fucking into you with his ringed hand squeezing your throat.

"Probably not as much as you were today, but, ya know. Just a little," The confidence raked through you more than usual and he noticed. But Eddie loved it. The coolers were a little more in a solitary area, many of the people still here are in the opposite direction, drunk and dancing. The two of you stood across from each other, cooler length apart. Eddie took his time gazing at you up close before he answered.

"Sorry for that, I, uh, I didn't think you'd notice." Eddie said shamefully, tapping his ring against the bottle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I actually didn't think you'd notice." You said, emphasizing a certain syllable.

He scrunched his eyebrows at you, tilting his head like a puppy,

"Notice what exactly?" He asked and you took a swig of your beer before answering.

"Me. You know, the fact that I'm not a kid anymore. But I think you did notice. You think I look ridiculous huh?" You laugh, shaking your head until he softly grabs your face, turning you to him. He wasn't laughing. Eddie 'the freak' Munson wasn't laughing at a self degrading joke, something he practically trademarked.

"Why would I think you look ridiculous?" He asked, searching your face for the answers if you decided to not reply.

"In this little bathing suit, when I'm like, two sizes too big to probably wear stuff like this," You said honestly, knowing it took you a bit to wear things like a two piece. You look down at yourself, seeing the top of your breasts and protruding stomach, all of the sudden feeling a little insecure to be around Eddie.

"At least that's what everyone says, but I don't really pay much attention to them. I like myself." You finished and looked up at him to be searching you like he was looking for something.

"You don't look ridiculous, princess," He took a breath and moved his hand to touch the crease of your waist briefly.

"You look, yeah I mean, you look real pretty like this. Grew into your own person. Nothin' more sexy than that," He earned a laugh from you, your hand touching him ever so slightly that he could feel a small jolt of electricity.

"So you think I'm sexy?" You remarked with a smile, eyeing him as he eyed you.

"You don't even wanna know, sweetheart." He said honestly. You really didn't, you really didn't want to know how much he wanted to fuck you in your pool so he could watch your tits bounce out of that top.

"Why not?" You asked, sipping again.

"Cus I'm an old man, my opinion doesn't matter. It's those younger men your age that matter." He said, trying to save himself from a situation he can't come back from.

"I guess so. You know, college guys are so... odd. Maybe just guys in general. Didn't realize how many chubby chasers there were until after the fact. But, I don't know, I haven't been focused on that really," you mentioned as you leaned against the brick wall to steady yourself. You took another drink out of your bottle, and he watched you.

"Why not, these guys not doing it for you or what?" He joked, pulling out a joint from his leather pocket and you smiled.

"They're just.. mmph, this is embarrassing but they're just not, skilled? I mean, can I be honest? Like you're a guy, older, and you know, I guess," You rambled, unsure how to phrase the question as he sparks up.

"Mm I love honesty, hit me," He pulled a long drag from the joint, inhaling and passing to you. Yes, he was getting high with a 25 year old, and he knew how it sounded. But this time was different, because he saw you as a woman and not just his friend's daughter.

"Well, okay. Well. Um. Fuck okay. The only way I'm able to cum or like, orgasm or whatever, is when I'm making myself do it. The guys I've fucked were kind of like— it didn't take longer than 15 minutes. Sometimes not even 10. I guess I'm tired of being like, their token fat girl to sleep with. Feels like I'll never know what enjoyable sex is like," You sort of mumbled the last part, taking the J and hitting it twice, passing it back to Eddie, only Eddie doesn't take it. He's kind of stuck actually.

Here you were, telling him you'd never been pleasured in the way you deserved because these new 'men' couldn't care less about you? That every sexual encounter you had was a mere loss, probably making you feel dirty and gross after.

"Eddie?" You asked and he shook out his thoughts, taking the joint and sitting on the cooler next to you as you stood on the other side of the cooler.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it awkward or-" You started but he hummed.

"No, not at all. Just that—I mean really? They never made you cum?" His tone shifted, it was like he was becoming feral at the thought.

"I, no. Been living my life like this, yes I know. But. It's fine, kinda accepted I'll be the only one making myself cum." You noted, looking around to see if there was anyone and there wasn't. They were all towards the back of the yard, which was sort of hidden from this angle. You took back the joint from his hand, and once you put it between your lips, Eddie got up and basically pinned you against himself and the brick wall.

"I think, that maybe, just maybe all these guys you're fucking aren't what you need, doll." He breathed, his breath a mixture of weed and beer. He was too far gone to control himself, to not press against you, to not feel you. He needed you in that moment, and he needed to prove to you that you are not the token fat girl. That you are not a fetish, you are not a lifestyle choice. He needed to show you what it was like to feel pleasured, and to feel needed at the same time.

"You're right." You took a hit from the joint, blowing the smoke in his face looking to search his expression. He almost seemed angry, or bothered. It wasn't abnormal for him but, you couldn't tell if it was at you. This was your moment though, a moment of opportunity to really show him that you'd been chasing after him since you were 18. You pull the joint from your lips and place them between his.

"I think I need a man. Preferably someone in their forties, who smokes weed and listens to metal bands, maybe someone who even lived right next door to me." You mocked, suddenly getting a burst of confidence as his eyes go dark and he takes a drag from the joint, blowing it in another direction.

"How long have you needed this man, hm?" He asked keenly after putting the joint out on the wall behind you. His nose dipped down to the crease of where your neck and jaw meet, smelling you ever so slightly. His hands are placed on either side of you, his chest basically pressing against yours as you realize you're trapped in his grasp right now, with nothing but two pieces of fabric covering you up.

"A long time." You admitted and his lips go down, pressing into your collarbone as you sighed. Was this real? Was he really kissing the skin you dreamed of him kissing? Did he truly want you? You wished maybe it'd gone different, maybe you wouldn't have wanted him inside you at your mothers birthday party, but who are you to decide when things happen?

"Such a sweet girl. I've been, fighting myself this whole night. Been trying to avoid being near you before anyone noticed I was eye fucking you. You are the fucking definition of temptation. You fucking reek of sex. You're just," he paused and kissed more over the skin of your chest, stopping at the crook of your neck.

"You're so fucking beautiful too, so sexy, so fucking sexy. I wanna feel you baby, let me feel you, let me fill you." He whispered, his hands going from either side of you to your wide hips, squeezing softly as he caresses the skin behind your knitted dress.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be, princess, you ask and you will receive." He kept his hands steady on your waist, regardless of how much he wanted to feel all of you in his hands right fucking now against this wall. At this point, he moved his hands to rub the sides of your body, tracing every curve with his hands.

"I need, fuck Eddie I need you. I always have. Please," you nearly begged, the weed in your system making it easier to drown out your surroundings while his hand snaked down to the front of your bikini.

"Yeah? You'd let me take you right here against this wall? Keep you quiet with these little bottoms you got on," He growls, dipping down into your bikini to rub your mound as he goes lower and lower. Your mouth fixed into an 'O', moaning and humming as his fingers danced around your cunt.

"Didn't know my baby was so soft, or how much you craved me. Let me make you feel good princess, let me ruin you and show you just how good it can be." You couldn't speak, all you could do was whine and nod.

"Aw baby, that was cute. With words sweetheart, need to hear ya with words," He taunts, his finger teasing over your wet slit. His nose is pressed up against your neck, his tongue sliding over the skin below your ear as he uses his other hand to grab your ass.

"Please, Eds, I need you. Show me, show me everything please," you begged, your back sliding down the brick a bit before he stops you, holding you in place with his other hand.

"You want it right here, pretty girl? Right where anyone could see? Want me to finger fuck you in your own backyard?" He growled almost, sending a wave of pleasure through you when he finally rubs two digits all over your wet pussy.

"Yes, god yes I don't give a fuck, I need you inside me," You cried, your arms going up around his neck to steady yourself once you feel his fingers spread your lips and rub around your labia and your clit. You knew he knew what he was doing, he'd done this before and knew the way to drive women crazy. What you didn't know was that you were equally driving each other crazy. Your subconscious whines and pleads, the way you were almost grinding against his hand, you tugging and pulling his body closer as you feel the small butterfly feeling in your tummy. Everything you were doing was perfect, you were absolute perfection to him. He didn't know he craved you this bad until you were moaning his name, asking—no, begging him for more.

"Mm, my baby needs me stretching this hole out huh? Let's see how you take my fingers, baby, then we'll see if you'll let me fit inside this pretty pussy," He said moving his head from your neck to see his fingers working your clit in your bottoms. He moved his head again to look at you and the expression on your face, and he knew it was a mistake because he could've blown his load right there. Eddie hadn't even started finger fucking you yet you were already soaked, face red and hot, hair disheveled and your mouth agape. You honestly put him in a trance, he'd do absolutely anything for you.

Eddie teased a bit more until your eyes started to turn glossy, your breaths were getting heavier and the minute you inhaled again, he sunk his two digits into your hole and watched with an open mouthed smile as you threw your head back against the brick and squirmed.

"Ahhh, there she is. Look at you," He said proudly, beginning to slowly move his fingers in and out of you, giving you time to adjust. Eddie knows you're not a virgin, but it sure fucking feels like it.

"Such a big girl, doing so good for me taking my fingers like this. You look so pretty like this yaknow'? Can't believe nobody's made you cum the way you deserve, and that it's gonna be me showing you how enjoyable sex can truly be," He was so genuine, you could tell.

"Eddie, fuck, please please fuck me, I need your dick," You begged softly and he bit his lip, groaning with you.

You felt his hardened cock straining against his pants as he pulled himself closer to you, adding an edge to your pleasure because you got nervous. Your daddy's friend is standing pressed against you in hardly nothing with his fingers stretching you out, your wetness dripping down Eddie's hand the faster and deeper he goes.

"Yeah? You need my dick, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me and make a mess all over my dick?" He asked, moving his other hand to grope your chest. He got a little fed up with the knitted dress you wore and pulled it to the side to free your breast, snatching the bikini top to the side to let your tit fall out gracefully. He was fucking in love. The way your body jerked against his hand made your body move with it, jiggling and moving in a way he only imagined it would look when he fucks into you from below.

"Please, Eddie, I wan' it, you're gonna make me, ugh fuck, can I please cum?" You begged, your eyes meeting his. He was just watching you, listening to your moans being muffled by the music that seems to never stop playing. Until he dipped his head down and started to suck on the skin of your tit, fixing his lips and tongue to wrap around your hardened nipple. He tugged, bit, sucked all on your tit until he formed purple bruises on it. He didn't have the words to describe the feeling he had right now, he felt like he died and went to heaven watching you squirm and hearing your voice beg for him. Eddie had never felt this urge and eagerness to slip inside someone as bad as he wanted to right now, to sit you down on his lap and fuck into you like that, or to press you against this wall and take you from behind. He never had the desire to truly fuck someone the way he wanted to, never knew what buttons to push for someone to want him the way he wanted others. But you, you wanted him in a way that was sinful to anyone who heard or witnessed it.

You needed him to ruin you, to fill you up with his cum, to make you his.

"Fuck, my pretty girl wants to give me her cum? That it? You can do whatever you want baby, cum all on my fuckin' fingers right fucking now," He snarled as he took his mouth from your tit, to your ear, almost grinding his own hard on against the crevice of your hip. You felt him take his thumb and rub on your clit, leaving your holes empty until you started clenching on air.

"Eddie! Are you still here?" You both heard a voice from up top, your father on the balcony looking over to scan the yard. You looked up and saw him basically right on top of you, and you looked to Eddie with wide eyes as his fingers still worked on your clit.

"Don't let daddy hear you baby, cum on my fingers for me, be a good girl for me. Show me how much you want me to fuck you into my bed," He picked the pace up and held you tight as he noticed you were starting to come undone.

"Eddiee, fuck Eddie I'm-" You were kind of loud, so he pressed his lips against yours when he slid his fingers back in, feel you tighten around him as you gripped his waist, kissing him back but moaning into his mouth once you felt yourself let go.

But he didn't stop kissing you. He kept his lips on yours, almost locked in a trance as he pulled his fingers out of you. That's when he pulled away, but only to take his fingers in his mouth and lick up any of your juices that leaked onto him. You just watched, breathless, barely holding yourself up as he released his fingers with a pop. He fixed your bikini and dress for you, moving to fix your bottoms as well so that you weren't exposed for anyone else.

Eddie felt like he was in love the minute he tasted you on his tongue. He knew he couldn't just stop there, he couldn't just finger you and that's it. He needed all of you, and he needed you in every way he could have you. You held onto his waist and his hands snaked onto your waist, looking down at your flushed chubby face, looking for something.

"I, thank you. That was, um, really good," You shyed away from him saying that. Complimenting him on his ability to make you cum felt embarrassing, but he turned your head by your chin to face him, and he placed soft kisses by your lips and in your cheeks.

You couldn't believe Eddie Munson, just made you cum on his fingers. You didn't believe yourself really, it almost felt like you blacked out and when you woke up he was there. But you were awake, present and very much aware of his mouth and fingers and his cock straining to be released.

"Ya know, I think the next time I taste you I want it to be with you riding my face," He smiled, moving your hair back behind your ear.

"You were just so fucking sweet," he kissed your cheek and pulled away from you, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks and chest again.

"Wha-" You questioned but your father yelled out again.

"Eddie?" Eddie looked up and had an angry look on his face, kissing you one last time before releasing you and leaving. But he turns towards you, wanting to say something, anything. He just wanted to see you again, from afar this time. You look so exhausted, your back still against the brick wall, your legs pressed together, your hands in your hair. You looked fucking amazing and if it wasn't for your dad, he'd be face deep in your cunt right against that wall.

"I'll see you, sweetheart."

[thevalicemultiverse]

Me: Is the natural state of the soul quiet or chaos?

Taco Bell cashier: Look buddy, it’s transient, shifting like water.

Alice: It probably also depends a lot on the particular owner of the soul. In my experience, some souls are more inclined to quiet, and others to chaos. [looks over to where Victor and Smiler are waiting -- Victor calmly reading something on his phone, Smiler using the straws near the drink station to construct a tower] Case in point.

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part VI

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is an implication of reader dying (but they don't).

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V

----------------------

When you entered the coffee shop, Haruki was already sitting at a table in the corner.

He got up to greet you when he saw you approaching. “Did you have any trouble to find this place?”

You sat in front of him. “Not really. I actually had been nearby some days ago for work and saw it,” you replied.

He smiled. “Oh, does being a teacher involve much work outside the school?”

So, the work part had not been a lie, but being a little more explicit, you had been exorcising a curse. Of course, you could not tell him that.

You smiled back. “I don’t know about other schools, but sometimes we have to run errands here and there.” Haruki nodded, and you decided to change the subject before he could dig further. “Anyway, should we order?”

Over iced coffee and tea, you and Ikeda caught up on pretty much everything you had missed during your years apart. The elderly uncle he had moved in with years ago had passed away just before he finished high school, so with no family left in the country other than his avoidant father, he had gone to study abroad. He had returned to Japan to work for a big company in Osaka, but then he had been transferred to Tokyo, which led him to getting a small apartment there, which eventually led him to you.

You watched him sip his tea and place it back on the table.

Time really goes by quickly. It wasn’t that long ago we were at a similar place talking about the future and look at us. This is the future.

“You know? Back then, I wanted to come back after finishing high school, but it would have been so…” He moved his hands as if trying to grasp the right word.

“Complicated?” you offered. His lips curved.

“Not that it would have been easier anywhere, but I guess there really is a right time for everything, don’t you think? At least I got to see you again."

Ikeda was looking at you expectantly and you only nodded. He laughed. “Sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all!” It was nice listening to him. “I was just thinking how great it is that you have accomplished so much.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t mean to get carried away. I just think it’s nice to be back.” He made a pause. “What about you, though? So, you graduated, stayed here and became a busy teacher… Maybe found your soulmate yet?”

You snorted, almost spilling your drink as you shook your head. “My… No.”

Your own reaction had made you laugh, but what had really gone through your mind was a much more disheartening memory: Satoru's forced smile when you told him you liked him.

Ikeda smiled at your reaction. “What about your friends? Are you still close with those guys you used to hang with? The girl that used to come with you every time and the other two?”

“Shoko is a doctor now.” You smiled and looked through the window; it looked like it would rain. “About Geto…”

They did their best to cover it up, but you might have heard about an incident in a village...

Haruki watched your gazed had saddened, and he could infer it was not a pleasant subject, so he tried to facilitate a response “You drifted apart? That happened to me and many of my friends...”

Your eyes returned to his. “Yes… We don’t really talk anymore.”

That sounded better than saying ‘our friendship became complicated after he turned into a mass murderer and curse user.'

Haruki’s smile was apologetic. In his memory, Geto seemed to have been a nice guy, and from your expression, he could tell that, for whatever reason it happened, letting him go had hurt you.

It must be inevitable that people part ways even when they don’t want to, he thought.

Now, he was not sure if he should ask about the other guy. Would that sadden you too?

“I am still friends with Gojo, though. You remember him?”

He nodded. Of course, how could he forget about him?

You continued. “Actually, we work together. He is a teacher too.”

“Oh, well, that’s...” he was not sure how to put it, “...that’s interesting.”

He could not help but wonder what kind of teacher Gojo had become. Thinking it backwards, Gojo had always been throwing annoyed looks at him. No, that white-haired kid had not looked like teacher material at all back then.

Haruki was not dumb. He always knew Gojo disliked him, and that the reason was pretty much related to you, but it had been only once that your friend had confronted him directly. Would Gojo have told you about it? He figured probably not, and even if he had, the past is in the past.

***

“This was fun,” you told Haruki as you walked to the station.

“It really was”, he agreed. “Maybe we could go to where I used to work next time. You know, for good old times’ sake.”

“You should bring your apron!” You grinned and looked at the sky, “But sure, we should go, if it’s still there, that is.”

At the entrance of the station, Haruki told you he could walk to his apartment from there, so you said goodbye.

The day had been full of memories and, although overall it was nice to reminisce, it had left you exhausted, so you decided to go to bed early.

Maybe tonight you could dream of a softer time, before Shoko looked so tired, before Suguru slipped away, and before Satoru had to shoulder alone the burdens of the strongest.

As the raindrops tapped on your window, you slumbered into the memory of a young group of students laughing and running under the rain.

***

“[name].” Someone was tapping your forehead. “[name].”

Your eyes opened to be met with a pair of blue ones.

“Oh, good, you woke up.” Gojo shot you a smile. He was standing next to your bed, bending over you.

Slowly, your head turned to look at the time on your nightstand watch. It was 6:02 am.

Huh, he started being annoying earlier than usual.

Still laying down, you saw him straighten up. “I need your help with something.”

“It better be urgent, or I’ll have to ask you to return that key I gave you.”

You knew that would not be of much use anyway. Before giving him a spare key to your apartment ‘for emergencies’, Satoru would just teleport inside whenever he thought the situation called for it, which was basically whenever he wanted.

Of course, he did not use his key just for emergencies, but at least you had gotten him to use the front door since then. And he had looked so glad you had given him a spare key and even gave you one to his place, that you did not really have the heart to ask him to give it back despite his unnecessary intrusions.

He grinned. “We need to pick Shoko’s birthday present.”

There was going to be a small gathering that day to celebrate your friend’s birthday. She had insisted on not making a fuss about it, but she did say in a half serious tone that presents were mandatory. You had gotten her a bottle of that rare wine she liked a month ago in anticipation of this day, but apparently, Gojo had waited until the very last minute to get her something.

You turned in your bed and closed your eyes again. “That is not an emergency.”

“I just did not know what to get her. She was not thrilled with my choice last year, so I thought…” Gojo sat on your bed and went on rambling about how he had carefully picked Shoko’s present on a trip last year and how rude it had been of her to call it ‘ugly’ in front of him.

“What is this?” Shoko’s face had been unreadable, but judging by the way she was holding it, she was not pleased.

“I got it during my last trip. It is believed to bring good luck to your home, and you can put it in your living room so it…”

“Of course not. This is too ugly to be left where people can see it," Shoko had sentenced.

You sighed. “Fine. I will help you, but I need some more sleep first.”

“It’s a deal then. We will take a quick nap and then go. What do you think we should get her?” Despite being with your back to him, you could feel him laying down and accommodating closer to you.

It had been a while since you two had shared a bed. Yours was particularly small, so one of you would always take the futon or the sofa if he wanted to 'stay for a nap'.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly.

There was silence for a second and you thought he had caught up with the situation he was putting both of you in, but then he replied “Your bed is more comfortable. Besides, it’ll be just a minute, right?"

You were going to protest, but he continued. “I had a rough night.” His tone was lower now. “Indulge me this time, can you?”

You knew he had been on a mission last night, however, no matter how gruesome, it was not like him to complain about it, let alone seek comfort in others, at least, it had not been like that in a long time.

Would it be okay to comfort him as when we were kids?

You turned to face him. He was laying on his side already looking at you.

When you put your hand over his, Satoru was reminded of how you used to hold hands when things were rather unpleasant at his family’s state. It was a gesture of reassurance; you holding his hand was proof that he was not alone. He had never told you but there were times when he thought your hand had tied him to reality, it had kept him human, and he had loved you for it.

“I…”

“Sleep then. You probably need it,” you interrupted him and closed your eyes.

Would it be okay for him to tell you he loved you or would it make things awkward again? Would it still make you hurt because he had not reciprocated your feelings weeks ago?

In truth, he had not come so early because of Ieiri's present. He had done it because the curse he had encountered last night had gotten to him.

He had been told that thing was not really strong, but it could show people illusions of those dear to them dying in front of their eyes; it was the fear the victim would experience at that time what would make the curse stronger. Gojo had not expected to see you, but he did; and although he had snapped out of it almost immediately, it had been enough to make him rush to you as soon as he had finished the mission and changed clothes.

But now, with his hand in yours, Satoru closed his eyes, feeling a little more at ease.

----------------------

Note: Huh... I thought this one would be shorter. Sorry.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part VII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha

[cherri-balms]

popular girl reader x sal? maybe they’re seeing each other secretly and she’s kinda mean lol

OMG!! Thank you so much for sending in your request for me! This is my first request so I'm a little nervous, but I'm excited too! I'm kind of going for a very free-form style for the time being while I get used to getting back into the swing of things! ♥♥♥♥♥♥

I couldn't tell you why but I found this particular request very intriguing, I ended up taking a lot of creative liberty as I went going! I really hope you enjoy it!!! >v&lt;

RAITING: G || EWC: 2K || READER GENDER: F ||

♥𝓢𝓪𝓵 𝓕𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓪𝓻 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵♥

♥Getting Together♥

♥〉〉 This kind of reserved, mean exterior is nothing new to Sal, at least after having to deal with Travis picking on him for most of his high school life. So needless to say he's gotten a bit of practice in this department! ♥〉〉 The difference between you and Travis that Sal hadn't dealt with yet (and made it just a tad rougher to get to know you), was that Travis was very clearly a confused kid without a healthy way to deal with his problems at home. You, on the other hand, were a bit more complicated to read.

♥〉〉 It seemed like you had everything a teenager would want. Every guy seemed to want to be with you, and every girl wanted to be you. You had lots of friends, good grades, a beautiful figure, and the most envious trait:

♥〉〉 A beautiful face.

♥〉〉 He couldn't understand why someone like you felt the need to be so stand-offish toward everyone. Maybe you really were just as stuck up and entitled as some of his friends Larry say you are?

♥〉〉 All this together should've made him stop, to pull his hand away from the fire before he got burned... but the temptation of the potential warm comfort outweighed that logic.

♥〉〉 He really became a moth in your light. Sal wanted to get to know you with each interaction, but not the intimidating [y/n] everyone had put up on a pedestal. Rather, he found you to be a rather tricky puzzle he couldn't put down until he solved it once and for all.

♥〉〉 Sal wasn't surprised his hardest challenge was just being able to get your attention. This was the other big difference between you and Travis: Where Travis went out of his way to get a rise out of Sal, you either blew off any attempt he made or one of your friends was quick to take your attention back.

♥〉〉 All while giving him that "Who do you think you are talking to someone like her" look he was all too familiar with throughout his life. It was also something that made him envious of your good looks even more...

♥〉〉 After an intervention from his friend group he was all but ready to give up until he finally got his moment alone with you.

♥〉〉 It was late in the afternoon when all the clubs were letting out and the sports teams were finishing up with practice. Typically, Sal wasn't the kind of guy to stay after school preferring instead to continue his ghost investigation in Addison Appartments.

♥〉〉 But, art was his weakest subject. With Larry and Ash busy getting tutoring from Todd for their own academic struggles he had to take it upon himself into putting in more elbow grease to bring his grades up with the teacher. As the sun began to set earlier during daylight savings, the nearby coast's storm clouds had moved in over Nockfell, making their presence known with the loud warnings of thunder before the inevitable wind and rain.

♥〉〉 Before Sal could worry about getting home, his cell vibrated with a text from Larry letting him know he and Lisa were on their way in place of his dad.

♥〉〉 When he headed up to the front entrance to wait for Lisa and Larry, he didn't expect to see you sitting up against the wall alone, looking down at your phone.

♥〉〉 "[Y/N]? I didn't expect to see you here so late.." His start at conversation only got him a quick glance, your appearance illuminated in the spotlight your phone gave in the dim lighting of the school after hours. Alright so far, not so good it seemed...

♥〉〉 Waiting a few moments to see if you would respond, he tries again, "Are you waiting for your ride? I'm waiting on mine right now, can I sit with you?" Same as before, silence. This time though you had scooted over just enough to let him sit next to you. Hey! That's progress!

♥〉〉 "That was what I was waiting on. I only stayed this late because I was going to dinner with my friends after they finished tennis practice, but they cleared out early when the weather got bad and forgot me. Well..." you move a little closer to show Sal the texts you were just having between your friends, and what he read made his stomach churn.

♥〉〉 The messages revealed they hadn't forgotten to come get you at all, rather they left you there on purpose as a sick joke knowing you had no way home. Sal didn't even try to hide his frustration, not even able to read the rest of the texts.

♥〉〉 "Don't make such a big deal out of this Sally Face. They just wanted to inconvenience me a little, we do stuff like this all the time."

♥〉〉 Seeing this happen to you hit especially close to home, as his "friends" back in Jersey had teased and messed with him in similar ways. It wasn't until he met Larry, Todd, and Ashley that he got to see what it was like to have a proper support system.

♥〉〉 He could also see a little further into your attitude now, it was almost like treating others and being treated with cruelty was just an expectation...

♥〉〉 Sal knew he wasn't going to be able to change your entire outlook with one conversation, but the least he could do was show you that same compassion his friends first showed him as bright headlights soon flooded the room from outside.

♥〉〉 "I'm gonna ask Lisa if it's alright to drop you off home too, it's way too dangerous to walk home at night- let alone in a storm like this."

♥〉〉 "The hell you aren't." The sudden blunt rejection was most certainly not what he was expecting, but neither was the light tint of pink your cheeks held. "Like I'm gonna let you of all people put me in a debt, I'll get home just fine. But, here-"

♥〉〉 You took out a pen from your bag and started scribbling something down on his hand, something he couldn't quite read in the lack of proper light. "This is just so I can let you know I got home safe, alright? Don't be a weirdo about this later." You didn't waste a second after that to leave the building (and him dumbfounded)

♥〉〉 Stepping outside himself, Sal finally got a good look at what you had written down on his hand.

♥〉〉 It was a phone number! Your number! An odd, and honestly quite crude way of giving him your number but hey, he wasn't upset.

♥〉〉 Once he finally got home he shot you a text letting you know who he was and that he was safe, finding himself glued to the screen until he got a reply back.

♥〉〉 Eventually his nerves were put to ease when he got the reply, and for some unexplainable reason, it made his heart skip a beat when he read it:

♥〉〉 > Hey Sally, lyk I'm alive. Drenched, but alive. > Sorry for leaving so suddenly, thank you for keeping me company

♥〉〉 Maybe you really were just a normal girl after all ♡

♥Being Together♥

♥〉〉 Getting into a relationship wound up going quicker than expected after your first proper encounter!

♥〉〉 Sal was quick to realize that you were never intentionally trying to be mean to him, not even really as a front for your friends. Rather, none of your snide remarks had any weight to them at all; the definition of hot air.

♥〉〉 Because of this your relationship was never really intended to be a secret in the start, rather you were still getting used to genuine communication and tended to revert to your typical ways in public. While Sal understood, both of your social circles just thought it was business as usual.

♥〉〉 Even when you had started transitioning into more romantic forms of affection, Sal was already not one for PDA so even your social status aside he wasn't really ready to venture into heavy romantics immediately.

♥〉〉 Which was something you found oddly sweet about your growing bond with him, because as one would expect you had been on many, many dates before Sal. You both had a dynamic where you were able to show the other a foreign kind of relationship you weren't used to.

♥〉〉 The problem arises when you do secretly date on purpose...

♥〉〉 See, Sal is wildly known to be an awful liar, and even worse when it came to keeping secrets.

♥〉〉 Between him turning down hangouts with his group, checking his phone a lot more often, and just in general having a different air to him everyone could tell he was hiding something. Larry most of all had been suspecting Sal had a romantic partner behind his back before anyone else though.

♥〉〉 Furthermore, you had slowly begun drifting away from your old friend group. Not only that, but you'd been rejecting date offers a lot more frequently.

♥〉〉 It finally took one specific day of repeated bad luck for Larry to finally get frustrated enough to say something. with a combination of a failed math quiz, a minor argument with his mom earlier in the morning, and the god-awful bologna to eat Larry was especially not in the mood to put up with Sal's distance in the conversation.

♥〉〉 "Sal, with all due respect can you PLEASE just reveal your secret date or pay attention to the conversation."

♥〉〉 Proceed to the dead silent, blank stares from everyone at the table. Yeah everyone suspected it (and had a feeling Larry was going to bring it up first) but no one thought he was going to go nuclear with it.

♥〉〉 "Ugh- haha Larry- what are you talking about I'm not dating-"

♥〉〉 "Don't even try that Sally Face we all know a man in love when we see it."

♥〉〉 For once Sal was kind of glad he had a prosthetic face. It made it very easy to hide embarrassment in times like these. Either way, the cat was out of the bag and he figured he had to introduce you to his friends eventually, so maybe this was an open opportunity for them to get to know you!

♥〉〉 "Hmmm... How about instead of me telling you, I introduce you guys to her. Is that fair?" The promise of actually getting to meet Sal's girlfriend already piqued the group's interest by far, so they didn't fight him when he left to go retrieve you.

♥〉〉 When Sal came back with you, however...

♥〉〉 Jaws were on the floor, Ashley may have gotten milk up her nose preventing a spit take, and Larry...

♥〉〉 "Break up with her." "LARRY-"

♥〉〉 Unfortunately here is where your previous treatment of Sal is going to bite you in the ass. The gang had a difficult time accepting Travis already, as a friend, but you as Sal's girlfriend is going to take a lot of work convincing you aren't just taking advantage of his kindness.

♥〉〉 It's actually because of this Travis is the first one you were able to befriend within the group- and actually got pretty close with. While in different contexts, Travis believed your claim of being influenced by toxic people in your life and genuinely meant no ill will to Sal. Hell, even outside of Sal's group you two hung out quite frequently.

♥〉〉 No one by far is surprised, but the hardest member to sway over was Larry, but also obtaining his blessing was something important to both you and Sal.

♥〉〉 Time is the only thing that will get his approval. If you stick with Sal long enough to prove you're serious about dating him then he'll know you're genuinely making an effort. ♥

[gojos-thot-patrol]

i DEFINITELY want more Frat Boy Sukuna!!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh man, you're twisting my arm so hard here nonnie, what ever will I do?

I guess I'm just going to have to post some headcanons and frame work I have for the up coming part 2 (Of which you can get on the tag list for it: here!) Oh! And if you want a refresher, you can find Seven Minuets in Heaven Here!

Now Presenting...

Some supplemental reading if you will ;)

Ok, lets start with just some basic information on our boy

Hes in the Alpha Beta Omega frat, or the ABO frat. The entire Frat is very quick to point out they’ve been around longer than ABO when you bring it up, minus Ryomen. 

He just tells you he’s an Alpha and asks if you’re trying to be his Omega. It normally gets whatever reaction he wants

He’s majoring in business against his will (Remember this: It will come up) with a minor in he’s really about: History

If taking over his fathers very lucrative business (Again: This will come back up later) fails, he wants to be a history teacher.

He often bonds with Nanami over hating their shared major and being annoyed with Gojo and Geto making out in the most inconvenient places.

He sells drugs on the side to supplement his income, but nothing harder than weed because “Weeds not even a drug when you think about it.”

Is known for being the biggest manslut in the manslut frat. But hey, at least he gets tested regularly. 

Ok, so now I want to start with a little bit of his background because it informs a lot about how I characterize him.

He’s Yuji’s older brother by about 4 years. Both of them look almost exactly like their father. The man really said Ctrl C, Ctrl V, Ctrl V. 

Their father left when they were 7 and 3 respectively. Yuji doesn’t remember, but Ryomen very clearly remembers how horrible their father was to their mother. To him, it was a relief when that asshole finally abandoned the family for good.

The family moved in with their Grandpa, who was one of the very old school “I will only tell my kids I love them on my death bed” types. He also died when the boys were only 13 and 9.

Meaning our boy never really had a good role model for how to perform masculinity, and now that he’s an adult he finds himself pretending to be the type of man media told him he was supposed to be. Somewhere between Tyler Durden and Joey Tribbiani. He doesn’t think he’s very good at this performance. 

The moment he turned 16, he started getting piercings to try and look less like his dad. The moment he turned 18 he got his tattoos to really separate himself from his father. Yuji thinks it’s insane, but Ryomen thinks it’s worth it to be able to look in the mirror without wanting to punch it.

His father reached out to him his senior year of high school. He offered to pay for 100% of Sukuna’s college tuition, as long as he majored in business and took over the “family” company once he graduated.

Yea, turns out dear old dads new wife couldn’t conceive, and his smoking had finally caught up with him in the form of lung cancer. Faced with an inevitable death, he was desperate for an heir. 

Ryomen may have despised his father with everything in his being, but he realized how stupid it would be to throw away not only a free education, but also a guaranteed career. So he agreed.

OKAY now that that’s outta the way, let’s get into how he is in a relationship 😈

You are his first real relationship. He’s had “relationships” that lasted officially about 2 weeks at the longest. He’s had a plethora of situationships where he’d make promises he had no intention to keep. But as far as actually, serious, relationships you’re number one. 

And genuinely this new emotion kinda scares the shit out of him. The first time he got love pangs he thought he was having a panic attack, the first time you brushed him off he felt like he shattered. this shit sucks yo, no wonder the Greeks thought it was a mental illness.

He has no idea how to properly love someone, he’s winging this shit: Doing everything entirely based on vibes

In his past “relationships” the moment conflict arose, he would leave. He doesn’t want to do that to you though, so head it is.

I’m not joking, the moment you have an issue he’s taking you to bed to try and distract you. And he’s always shocked when you still want to, ya know, communicate about issues you’re having after the fact. And he’s always even more shocked when you don’t just leave the moment conflict arises. 

Did I mention he has no real concept of how healthy relationships work?

He’s trying though. He’s trying harder to make this work than he’s trying to keep his grades up. 

Often catches himself flirting with other girls without even realizing it, it’s just second nature to him. He’ll always disengage the moment he realizes

Oh he’s jealous. Oh he’s so jealous. He sees you just talking to another guy and he’s spiraling in his head. He’s immediately getting involved and planting hickies on your neck right in front of whoever you’re talking to, because you’re his god damn it.

As such he loves to buy you jewelry. His dad’s got fuck you money, and he plans to spend it all on you. His current favorite thing to see you wear it a dainty, golden chain, with a ruby encrustedfrat b R hanging from it. It looked gorgeous on you, and marked you as undeniably his. 

Suguru has 1000% had to talk him out of getting a tattoo of your name, this man is down so unbelievably bad. He’s never really been in love before, and now that he’s feeling it he’s overwhelmed by it.

This man really thought he was above getting pussy drunk until he hooked up with you. Now he realizes he’s is Not. At. All immune to it, and is actually quite prone to it!

Ultimately, his goal is to marry you after graduation, even though his fraternity brothers are highly against it. Not because they don’t like you, quite the contrary, they love you! But they all know that marrying your first love probably isn’t the move, and that the two of you have a lot of problems to work through. They want him to at least wait a few years before popping the question.

Still, every once in awhile he catches himself looking at rings and day dreaming about the future.

[stoned-writer]

A request where chris evans fucks his assistant, reader in his trailer

so so sorry this took the longest ever but here we are !

side note- i shall no longer write for c.evans

photo not mine*

the assistant - Chris Evans

summary- after being friends with chris for years and working for him, the feelings boil over and tension breaks.

warnings- p in v unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yall), choking, use of daddy, oral (m & f) not sure of any other pls lmk !

word count- 1,351

a/n- not totally happy with this but i hope yall enjoy.

MINORS DNI 18+

You had been friends with Chris since high school, you knew his life and all its chaos better than anyone so it only made sense when you inevitably became his assistant as his career grew. 

You did have one tiny problem with your little arrangement…

You’re unbelievably in love with him. 

It was especially hard on days like today when you’re on set with him watching him walk around like he isn’t the sexiest man alive. You don't really know when it happened, maybe you always felt this way about him, but all you knew was you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You were sitting in his trailer answering some emails when he strolls in wearing the most simple outfit, jeans and white t-shirt that is at least a size too small, almost instantly the dirty thoughts start running through your mind “his arms look so sexy, i wonder what it would feel like to have them wrapped around my-” you’re snapped out of your daze when you realize he's talking to you shit “hey pretty got a lot to do today?” he asks sweetly, tilting his head slightly, you blush and look away hoping he doesn’t notice “no actually all done for the day” he plops himself down on the couch next to you, arm stretched out behind you. He’s so close you can smell his cologne so casual like he doesn’t know he's driving you insane. 

You finally look up at him and find he’s already looking at you with a cheeky little smirk on his face he’s up to something “well what do you know i'm all done for today too.” The sexual tension between the two of you is off the charts right now you think you might explode if someone doesn’t make a move soon. 

He catches you staring, “see somethin ya like doll?”  Your eyes snap up to his - is this really happening right now ? taking a second to catch your breath you look from his eyes to his lips briefly before replying “yeah would there be a problem with that?” he laughs lowly casting his eyes over your body before making his way back up to your eyes “not at all” he leans in a little bit and you find yourself leaning to meet him halfway, his hand makes its way to the side of your neck, lips barely touching he says “are you sure about this pretty girl?” you nod your head instantly but that’s not enough for him, “words baby” he demands shit you're wet you lick your lips “yes i'm sure.” 

He doesn’t waste any more time and crashes his lips to yours. You both moan out at the new contact between the two of you. It was like the dam finally broke after years of pent up tension and pining it was finally happening. 

He brings his hand down to the back of your thigh and grabs you to sit up and straddle his lap as both his hands now slide to grab your ass, he moans into your mouth at the feel of the flesh between his huge hands. You instinctively start to grind down on him feeling how hard he is through his jeans. You slide down off of him to rest on your knees in between his legs as he adjusts himself to be manspreading looking down at you with a lazy smile on his stupidly handsome face. You reach to undo his belt and make quick work of sliding his jeans off, you can't say you're surprised when you see how big he is through his boxers, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of getting him into your mouth. Reaching up to slide his boxers down, he mumbles almost to himself “i can't believe this is actually happening” you almost didn't hear him but you chuckle and say “oh believe it baby.”

You lock eyes with him as you spit onto his cock “jesus christ” he exhales, and you proceed to take him into your mouth as much as you can, his eyes roll back at the feeling of your mouth working on him, he brings his hands to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail- “look at you angel so pretty with my cock in your mouth goddamn so good honey, such a good girl for me aren’t you?’ you moan around him at his praise. His hips buck up into your mouth as you take him further down your throat, “fuck baby as much as I would love to cum in your mouth I need to be inside you right now” he growls as he pulls you off of him as he undresses you insanely fast and pulls you back into his lap. 

He brings his hand under your chin to make you look at him as you position yourself over him, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip and pushing it into your mouth, he exhales “gonna be the death of me pretty girl”

You both moan out in sync as you sink down on his cock, giving you a minute to adjust, he rubs his hands over your hips as he starts to move you back and forth. “So big daddy oh fuck-” “shit say that again baby, go on what’s my name?” “daddy- feels so good, so deep” he then takes this opportunity to stand and place you down on your back on the way too small couch. 

He then starts destroying your pussy at an alarming pace but you couldn't think past the immense pleasure you're feeling, he brings his hand up to your throat and applies just the right amount of pressure, “eyes on me angel” he growls to keep you present with him, he looks down to where the two of you are connected and spots a bulge in your lower stomach, it drives him crazy, he presses down on it and says “fuck honey feel that? Feel how deep i am in your guts, god this pussy was made for me.” you're a moaning mess, unable to form a complete sentence “uhh fuck - daddy” he laughs lightly, “got you cockdrunk already huh? Feel you squeezing me baby i know you’re close go on give it to me cum all over my cock baby” thats quite literally all it takes till you’re screaming “oh my god chris- daddy fuck i’m cumming.”

Your orgasm triggers his own and he’s twitching inside you and spilling his whole load inside you. Moaning at the warm feeling, he leans down to kiss you. 

“I’m not done yet honey, eyes on me.” 

Before you can ask what he means he’s pulling out of you and sinking to his knees as he dives in to eat your pussy like a man starved. His tongue lapping up the mess you both made has you arching off the couch and grabbing at his newly buzzed hair and your eyes rolling back. “Come on doll, you got one more for me right?” “uhh fuck- yes daddy” he moans into you, “thats right yeah you do.”

You can feel the band getting tighter and you know you’re close, he knows it too.

“I know baby, go on cum, you can do it for daddy, let go” 

And you certainly do. 

As you start to come down from your high he sits up wiping the sides of his mouth bringing his fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself. He leans down to connect your lips to his, he squeezes himself back onto the couch with you bringing you back to sit in his lap. Before either of you can say anything there's a knock on the trailer door, “uh Mr. Evans you're needed back on set” says a surely traumatized crew member. 

You both sigh and start to get dressed, before he steps out he places his hands on your hips and says “we will definitely talk about this when I get back” with that he kisses you sweetly like he didn't just rearrange your insides, throws you a wink and out the door he goes.