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joonie-beanie · 2 months

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Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh.

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?”

Now that piques their interest.

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her.

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend.

4 days, to be exact.

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job.

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file.

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck.

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning.

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen.

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet.

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again.

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest.

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers.

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak.

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them.

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.”

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel.

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace.

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself.

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace.

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum.

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his.

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty.

You’re getting close.

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it.

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words.

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you.

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving.

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit.

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again.

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine.

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago.

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo.

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck.

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot.

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last.

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath.

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him.

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep!

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #bean fic #genshin fanfic

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seasons-of-death · 21 days

Text

older!rafe x ditzy!reader who works for him

warning: nsfw MDNI! this was based on this request!! i hope you like it <3

you had driven rafe crazy ever since you started working at the country club he owned; the way you smelled of flowers and vanilla, how your little sundresses and miniskirts clung to your curves, and the smile on your face that was so bright it would put the damn sun to shame.

when he first saw you, you looked so out of balance, your tray full of mugs and plates, so filled to the brim that he was sure you would drop it any moment. and like any gentleman, he decided to help you. you'd thanked him profusely, and when he simply smirked at you, he could see the flush creeping up to your pretty cheeks.

ever since then, he was a man possessed.

but he always had a rule to never mess with someone who works for him. he knows to keep his personal life and professional life separate. but it was so hard, when he'd see you bend over, your cleavage unknowingly almost pushing out of the little top you had worn that day. usually, people had to wear a uniform, but the first day you hadn't worn it, and rafe had told your supervisor to never make you wear one. he couldn't count all the times that he had jerked off to the mental image of you lifting up one of your pretty floral dresses and letting him fuck you in the country club bathroom. he was a grown ass man, and you had him acting like a teenager.

one day, rafe called you into his office. you were confused, and a little frightened, worrying that maybe you'd done something wrong. sure, your supervisor said he didn't mind when you broke a few (15) cups the other week, but what if rafe disagreed with him? i mean, he was your boss's boss.

even though the door to his office was open, you knocked on it gently, and the man turned around to face you with a smile on his face. "come in. close the door."

suddenly, your throat felt dry as you did as the man told you to; he had a commanding presence, a person would probably have to be crazy to not do what he asked them to. "why'd you want to see me?" you asked, your voice shaky and squeaky as he took a few steps closer to you.

"i just wanted to say," rafe smiled as he stopped right in front of you, only inches between your chests, the man biting down on his lower lip in between sentences, "that you're one of the best employees we have."

huh. that was the last thing you expected.

your eyes widened, and your words basically stumbled out of your mouth, almost as clumsy as you had been on your first day. "thank... you?"

rafe chuckled, bringing one of his hands to your chin and lifting it up so you'd look him in the eye, "what, you don't believe me?" he grinned, and even though his hand dropped away from your chin, it felt like the spot he had touched was on fire.

"well, i mean... to be fair, i think i kind of suck... i mean, i broke a few dishes, and i accidentally gave the wrong order to three different people today and apparently someone's lobster was-"

your rambling was interrupted by the blonde man's laughter, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes, while he simply looked at you with affection, "you're adorable." he said, causing your cheeks to flush slightly as he pressed his hand on your cheek, clearly enjoying your little reactions. "god, i can't believe you blush from just that. it makes me all the more curious."

"curious? about what?"

"about..." one of his hands trailed up and down your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin there as shivers ran down your spine, his eyes looking down at you wolfishly as he leaned closer, his volume dropping to almost a whisper. "how pretty you'd look if you were riding me on my office chair. or the kind of noises you'd make when you come. do you whine? do you whimper? do you moan? you know, it drives me insane."

your face heated up even more, his thumb now at the edge of your lips, and you could feel your cotton panties starting to stick to your folds as you looked up at him, not realizing that the doe-eyed look on your face was causing his pants to feel tighter. the situation was just like out of the dreams you'd had of rafe, the ones you tried so hard to forget, the ones that were so inappropriate to have of your boss, or, boss's boss.

"oh, uh... thank– thank you." you say with a small smile, the man letting out a chuckle, while your cheeks were feeling like they would light on fire any moment now.

"keep up the good work, sweetheart." he said, his hands dropping away from you, taking step back. and as you walked out of his office with your heartbeat in your ears, you pinched the inside of your elbow just to make sure that hadn't been a dream.

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bunnysbrainrot · 1 year

Text

Size Matters

Kinktober Prompt: Size kink

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, oral (f receiving), creampie (wrap it up, kids), dirty talk, rough sex, dom Sam, fluffy/funny aftercare (it’s crucial)

Summary: Your plan for making the boys dinner goes awry, leaving you alone with Sam in his bedroom, and coming to terms with a kink that only Sam Winchester can fulfill.

A/N: 🤭

"C'mon,' you strain, reaching for a high shelf in the cabinet. Apparently Sam and Dean didn't find a need for a stepladder in the bunker. Your calves screech in protest as you reach for a jar of pasta sauce, your fingers brush the bottle, but not enough purchase to grab it.

A long arm reaches above your head, grabbing the sauce in a large, familiar hand. Sam hands you the jar with a smile.

You took it from his hands and chide, "Not everyone's as vertically gifted as you and your brother, you know. Y'could be more inclusive and invest in a stepstool."

He leans against the counter you'd been setting ingredients on. Sam's eyes scan over your form as you open the pasta sauce.

"You know you can ask us for help, right?"

"I was gonna make dinner for us, I didn't want to make you guys help me," you reply Sam stands fully now and looks over your shoulder. You crane your neck to look up at him, "How's the weather up there?"

Sam chuckles lightly, "You know, I could tease you about your height. It'd be pretty easy."

You turn back to the counter and place freshly-washed vegetables on a cutting board. Unsheathing a knife from the knife block, you keep conversation with Sam.

"I don't have a problem with being short," you bump your hip sideways into Sam's leg. He does the same to you, except the direct strike in the ribs knocks you off balance, stumbling over.

He's able to snatch you up to safety before you bust your ass on the floor. Now cradled in Sam's arms, a rush of comfort comes over you in his stable grip. His hands catch your waist, with his long fingers spreading broad across your torso. Fuck, together they could probably go around most of your waist, and those fingers...

You snap out of your stupor to find Sam smiling down at you. His eyes linger on yours long enough for your mind to wander, wondering who would lean in first. Stolen glances at each other's lips, hitched breath, low-lidded eyes, it was a perfect concoction for Sam to kiss you.

Beneath him, you're so delicate in his arms, as if you'll break if he isn't careful. It was in his own reflexes to catch you, but the feelings that rushed through him afterwards were something deeper. Almost instinctive that in any moment with you like this, hushed and ogling, would lead to something more. Forget dinner, he thought, he could just order something for delivery.

At least, after he's done with you.

"Sam," you whisper. Maybe you hadn't been paying attention, but his face is now just inches from your own.

He finds himself leaned over further, close enough to share the same air, breaths mixing.

You smile nervously, and to your relief Sam gives one of his own. But he doesn't break away - doesn't help you to your feet to cut vegetables for the dinner you were kindly making for him. It couldn't matter much now that he's holding you like this.

"Sorry," he replies, barely audible. You wave your hands in dismissal and place them around his neck. The air shifts as the movement brings you ever closer, your lips no more than three inches away from Sam's.

"It's okay," you whisper. Soft, hazel eyes wander over your face and flicker to your lips, seemingly stuck there until Sam takes a risk he'd been waiting for.

Relief washes over you when his lips meet yours. After all this time, it turns out that he had the guts to break this tension, and everything that had been bottled up could now overflow. You let a deep hunger overtake your body, purely going on instinct as Sam embraces you. Sam sighs into your kiss and swallows a moan it drew from your throat, whiny and eager.

Sam nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it tentatively with his teeth. You do the same in response, only harder. Testing the waters. Usually a dangerous game, especially with a Winchester.

Your hands had made their way to his broad shoulders - his lean muscles flexing and stretching as he moves his hands over you, meandering from your waist, spanning from your shoulder blades to the top of your ass. His fingers toy with the fabric of your clothes, like he was trying to unwrap a present too early and didn't want to rip the packaging.

“Not here,” Sam says, his words slurring like a love-drunk fool, “Can’t do this here.”

He breaks the kiss and leaves you panting for more; there's a new darkness in his stare, one that makes you shudder. You give him a smile, wiggling in his grip to the pasta sauce jar, and shut it closed.

“What about dinner?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You seem like you have other plans.”

He was caught red handed, but you weren’t declining the advances. If anything you spurred them on as much as he did.

Sam slowly releases you from his grip, setting you stably on your feet. Not once have his eyes left you, even if you weren’t paying attention - Sam was set on this goal, you’d given him the ‘yes’ he needed, and he intended to make good on his commitment.

Patience was wearing thin for Sam. He ogles at the sight of you bent at the waist, putting the pasta sauce and veggies back in the fridge. The curve of your ass sucks him in whole, as if there were nothing else in the room.

A hand settles on your ass from behind, cupping and kneading gently. You let out a shuddering exhale before standing and turning to Sam.

The softness of your voice surprises you, “Where do you want me?”

The ball was in his court. Sam looks you over coolly, his hands kept to themselves in his pants pockets. Your eyes drift lower and pause on the large bulge in Sam’s pants, straining slightly against his thick jeans.

“My bedroom,” he said plainly.

—

There was little time to brace yourself for Sam’s next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.

Sam grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as Sam juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy.

There was nothing small about Sam Winchester - he's a Goliath of a man, towering over you at any given time, with thick broad muscles that send a rushing heat to your sex. If your intrusive thoughts ever won, you were sure he could toss you around like it was nothing.

But now, you didn’t have much choice but to stay pinned to the wall, where you and Sam both grind your hips desperately, letting out lilted moans and grunts against each other’s skin.

The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Sam's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he emphasized. You shook your head at him. You wouldn’t break so easily, but if anyone were to shatter you apart, it could happily be Sam.

Your lips found his ear, after staining yourself up his long torso, “I’m not gonna break that easily, don’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah?” his voice deepened as his lips found your neck, eagerly nipping at your skin and making you whine. "Let's test that theory."

You gripped the hem of your shirt and shimmied it over your head, casting it to the floor carelessly.

Sam’s eyes trail over your chest, still beautifully bound by your bra. Their softness served as an undeniable invitation for his mouth to lower. He dips his head to greedily nip and suckle at the supple skin, leaving red and purple splotches in his wake.

You grip at his hair, urgently tugging him closer, as if the direct contact could never be enough to satisfy. Each of your soft moans is echoed with a low groan from Sam’s chest. He had doubled over, completely encapsulating you in his clean scent, now thick with a lustful musk.

Two fingers found the band of your bra, unclipping it with the utmost ease, and cast it to the floor with your shirt. Through panting breaths, Sam works off his shirt, though his lips have no hesitation to return to your exposed chest, and found a pebbled nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting to bring out a symphony of moans from the both of you.

Your hands lunged for the waistband of your pants. Sam took notice and sighs happily against your skin, his warm breath like a gentle wave across everything you'd exposed to him. Above you, Sam grew more unhinged with each passing second, grabbing and biting and kneading your flesh like a man starved.

Sam's lips capture yours once more in a tangle of tongues and teeth, exploring one another as if it was your only chance to do so. His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth, swallowing a deep moan that erupts from deep within your chest. He assesses your position and grows frustrated. It would be difficult to remove your, or his, pants without risking dropping you to the floor.

As quickly as you'd been slammed into the wall, Sam tosses you onto his bed, but stays standing at its foot, his hands reaching for his belt buckle. All else in the room vanished as you watch him remove the thick denim, shoving it down his legs to the floor. His cock strained against his boxers, throbbing and twitching to be free.

"Those," Sam nodded his head to your pants, "off."

The sudden dominance springs you into action. Your hands fly to your waistband and wiggle them off of your hips, down your thighs, and kick them away. Your soaked panties act as your final barrier, barring you from what you so badly needed.

Sam returns to his hunched position over you, letting his hands rove over your exposed thighs and ass, pawing at you greedily. You reach down to the band of his boxers, and slip your fingers under the elastic, inching them down until you felt a resistance against it - Sam's cock fights against the removal, straining your short arms until Sam reaches down to aid you.

The head of his cock springs up to smack against your covered core. You gasp softly at its warmth, your neglected cunt tightens around nothing of substance, an empty hole aching to be filled with something substantial.

"Feel." This was Sam's only order as he tugs your hand down to his length, coaxing you to wrap your small fingers around the middle of his shaft.

He's thick and warm against your palm, with a thick vein creeping up its underside to the tip. Your mouth waters at the way his cock twitches eagerly in your hand, and you slowly begin to pump along his length, making Sam hiss through his teeth.

Sam's voice is lower than you'd ever heard; it sends a heat directly to your teased pussy, now bracing against the base of Sam's cock. Its length covers most of your abdomen, casting your body in its silhouette in the dim lamplight of the room.

"Jesus..." he remarks wistfully, trailing a free hand up to his tip, pressing into the soft flesh of your belly.

Beneath him like this, Sam can finally see the scale of his cock to your insides, mapping out precisely where he'll settle inside of you. You whine softly as his cock drags another stroke over your soaked folds - the abrasion from your underwear was no longer tantalizing, but rather a nuisance.

His breathing becomes ragged, "I need to taste you."

The words shudder through you as Sam's lips work through the valley of your breasts, showering kisses along your middle, and finally he settles between your thighs. Sam places a kiss atop your clit, still kept out of sight by your soaked panties. Two fingers hook into the waistband and tug downward, sliding the soiled garment off of your shaky legs and to the floor behind him.

Cold air strikes your slit as Sam pries it open with two thick fingers, teasing at your aching hole, spreading the wetness around your cunt.

"Are you always this wet when you think about me?" his voice tremors through you. You nod quietly and hold your breath as Sam's head dips lower. All you can see is his rich brown hair cascading over your belly before warmth spread through your core, leaving you moaning at his first touch.

With the way his tongue teased at your clit, Sam may as well have set you ablaze. Your skin radiated a warmth unlike no other, rolling in waves as the cold of the air shocked your most sensitive areas.

"Sam," you whine, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You tug on him gently to push him further.

He pays no mind to your plea, and instead wraps his toned arms under your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his thick tongue. It flicks your clit perfectly, and pairs with his lips as he suckles on the sweet bundle of nerves.

The taste of you makes Sam groan, his cock straining against the mattress beneath him. Above him, your moans and cries are a siren song, calling him to the bottomless sea of his desire. He pictures what lies ahead - you, sprawled on the bed, blissed out from his tongue and cock, sated and sleepy from a relentless pounding.

That image is pasted in his mind as he laps at your cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into your tight entrance, and tasting your innermost parts. You arch your back at his touch, sighing his name like a prayer. His restless tongue toys with your hardening clit as pressure builds in your belly.

Sam creates a rhythm on your clit that sends you unfurling under his touch, mewling and whining and moaning slurred versions of Sam and please and need you. But he refuses to give more. Not until he can taste your release directly on his tongue.

The tightness in your belly snaps, breaking you apart until you're crying Sam's name against your hand, clasped firmly against your mouth. His tongue lolls over your clit even still, skyrocketing the shockwaves of the orgasm and making you whimper. Your slick coats his tongue and fills Sam's senses. All there is is you, your sounds, and your delicious cunt.

"Fuck," mumbles Sam, his voice reverberating through your convulsing sex, clamping down onto nothing.

You whine in response. All thought and sense had escaped your mind, now shattered and cast off to a void in the back of your mind. Sam laps up your juices and swallows, savoring every last drop your body had to offer.

The cold air of the room kisses your exposed cunt as Sam rises to his knees, his heavy cock bobbing above your abdomen.

"So small," he remarks, lining his cock over your stomach and admiring just how much of your body he'd overtake.

You'd surely be sore for days afterward, which sent a flush of pride through his chest. His cock ached to carve you hollow - to leave you gaping after a thorough fucking, to shape your pussy perfectly for him.

His hips rear back as he positions himself with your wet hole, shining with your slick, beckoning him inside. Sam's eyes meet yours when he notches the head of his cock past your entrance, surveying your expressions as he slowly filled you out. The girth of his cock could practically split you down your middle, stretching your little pussy to wrap perfectly around his shaft.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," Sam groans, ogling at his own cock as it spread your pussy open. His hands press against the backs of your thighs and push them toward your chest, angling himself so the both of you could share the view.

He sighs, "Look at that - such a big cock, stretching out your tiny pussy, just for me."

Astonishment, teasing, and lust filled his tone, and something else. Something more primal that has your walls fluttering around Sam's cock.

You gape at the sight of his cock entering you, and you finally come to terms with exactly just how big he is. Your pussy is stretched blissfully wide, swallowing his length with earnest. Sam slams his hips and strikes deep, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

Each thrust is harsher than the last and all you can do is stare at the brutality your pussy is being subjected to. You cry out as Sam's cock crashes into you, every time, without fail.

At this point, there's no hiding the reality of what's behind Sam's bedroom door. If Dean, or anyone else, heard you, let them. Bliss overcomes your senses and dulls all rationality in your muddled mind.

There is nothing else that matters - just the overwhelming size of Sam Winchester and his remarkable cock.

He whispers your name like a summons, meeting his eyes with yours as he presses your body into the mattress. A hand presses into your tummy. Sam gasps softly and takes your hand to replace his own.

"Feel that?" his purrs, pressing onto your hand to deliver some pressure. As he thrusts in you can feel a shift in your insides, until you feel a firm strike of the head of his cock against you palm.

You look to him with wide eyes and find a wicked smile plastered on his face.

Sam crouches over you, enveloping you with his large size, encasing your body with his. He leans toward your ear, "Can you feel it up here, baby? Because I can. I can feel how tiny your cunt is before I go in and stretch it out."

He pushes deeper, to let you really feel it, "I can feel how you try to fit me, and how just tight you're getting, 'cause you're gonna cum, aren't you?"

A dumb nod follows his question, making his grin widen across his lips. No words form on your lips, only shaky wanton moans reply to his commentary.

"I know, sweetheart, feels good," Sam coos, slowing down his movements to draw out a raw cry from your throat. His cock drags through your walls until its head is all that remains, and slams in harshly.

Your cry is on the verge of a scream, but Sam does not relent. There is no plea to stop or slow down, because this is all you'd been dreaming of - to feel a comforting helplessness under someone far larger, to be at their disposal and usage.

A growl leaves his throat, "So fucking small... I bet you feel like you could break, huh? With my cock this deep inside you, your little pussy can barely take any more, can it?"

Your walls clench around him in reply, pulling Sam in deeper until his balls slap against your ass, now pairing with the obscene squelching of your abused pussy.

Between the lilting moans and quieted pleas from your perfect mouth, Sam issn't sure how much longer he can last. He vows to himself that he will not give in to it yet, not until he feels it. He needs to feel the way you wrap around his cock when you cum.

He needs to be the reason you finish, this time and each orgasm after.

"You've been waiting for this. You've wanted this the whole time - someone big and strong to pound your little pussy 'til you can't stand. Because you want a thick cock splitting you open." Sam stammers through the last few words - his own comments are bringing him closer to the brink, but you've already reached yours.

You shudder around him harshly as your orgasm hits you full-force, leaving you no room to ride it out as Sam's pace quickens. His breath hitches at the sensations flowing through his throbbing length - he hisses when you clench around his sensitive tip, leaving his gasping as he fucks you faster. Harder. Deeper.

His cock plunges into your cunt, hitting that same spot in your tummy as he mentioned before. Sam's hand presses against your abdomen, adding a glorious pressure that has you climaxing again in a matter or seconds.

"Thaaaat's it, attagirl," he encourages. "Such a tight little cunt, but she takes me so well."

The words flow through you like fire, sending you over the brink once again and leaving you whimpering beneath him. Sam smirks, knowing he's doing his job right, he has you exactly where he wants you, pinned, helpless, and impossibly full.

"Please... S-Sam," you whisper.

He laughs, pounding you so roughly you can barely brace for the slam against your cervix, "Can't handle it, can you, baby? I thought you said you don't break easily."

Your soft cries reach his ears as you slip into that thoughtless void of your mind, moaning with each strike.

Sam's lips brush over the shell of your ear, "You think you're so strong, but I'll break you. I'll have your cunt so bruised you can't think about anything else - only me, because this pussy is mine, do you understand?"

A reply doesn't come, only the sounds of your moans fill his ears. Sam delivers a harsh slap to your ass, thrusting his cock as deep as he could manage. You let out a long moan but still don't reply.

"Who's pussy is this?"

The words form on your lips and fall out feebly, "Y-yours."

He kisses your forehead, but does not let his hips falter, "That's right, angel. All mine."

Pressure builds in his abdomen, his balls growing tight as his own release crept up from behind. Sam nips at your earlobe, his words clang through you with a primal desire.

"And since this pussy's mine, I'm going to fill it."

The swift relentless pace resumes, crashing into your hips to verge on soreness, your tight cunt still wrapping perfectly around him, and Sam's name falling past your slacked mouth. Sam's eyes screw shut as his own orgasm finally approaches, and his cock begins to twitch.

He unsheathes his cock from your warm walls, aiming directly at your now gaping pussy. Sam pumps himself fervently as his cum spurts from his cock, right into your stretched hole. You stare in awe as his cum seeps into your cunt, the angle of your hips inviting it all in.

Sam hisses, "Keep it all in there."

You pant as you try to recover yourself, but Sam plunges his cock into you again, making you let out a low, drawn-out moan. He strikes as deeply as before, his movements are urgent, borderline predatory, insistent to have you bred nicely.

"Keep it in there, and don't you dare fucking waste it."

His movements start to slow - the thrusts are languid and gentle until Sam finally pulls himself out of your abused pussy. He grips your thighs and lowers them until you can finally breathe freely again, gasping in the cool, refreshing air.

"There you go. Deep breaths, honey," Sam coaxes, running his hands along your sore hips, massaging gently into the aching flesh. You do as you're advised and calm your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Sam did the same until he slumped into the mattress next to you, groaning into the sheets.

You smile lazily at him, "You okay over there?"

Sam nods into the bed, still letting out a low groan, "Y'fuckin' drained me."

Pride wells in your chest. You giggle at him, earning you a playful slap on your thigh. Your giggle turns into a hearty laugh before you nestle next to Sam, eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. He takes notice and nudges you.

"Bathroom, no UTI's for us today."

You retort, "Sam, I don't think I can even walk properly right now."

He shifts and rises from the bed, scooping you into his arms and lifting you to his chest. Your laughs echo around the room as Sam Winchester takes you to the bathroom, ever the gentleman.

Hi! Thank you all for your patience as i get out of my lil' brain funk. I hope you enjoyed!

If you liked this fic, reblog to show others! Who cares if we're depraved little animals?? don't you just wanna go apeshit???

anyways ily, and i hope this fic gets the love it needs cause i had a wonderful time writing it >:3

#supernatural #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #kinktober #bunny writes

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chelseeebe · 5 months

Text

too sweet (for me)

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of violence and drugs. eddie is a dick but not when it comes to r <333 :} female!reader

eddie munson had been hardened by life. how could one night possibly demolish all of the walls he had spent so long building?

a/n: sorry for being mia again lol i am trying i swear!! i have another eddie fic coming that i love and probably the other parts to the steve zombie au! i’m usually never busy but these last few weeks have been wild

read part two here.

the club is too loud, too busy and too sweaty. eddie wasn’t a fan, never had been.

he squeezes past the crowd, grumbling to himself as he goes. eddie preferred to be in bed by three. his mom was very spiritual and had drilled into him that nothing good could come out of being awake at the witching hour.

something or someone knocks into him, or vice versa, he can’t really tell. it’s too dark and he’s had too much to even really care.

“watch it,” you snap, twisting around to send the dirtiest glare.

“what the fuck? you bumped into me,” he shouts over the loud thumping beat. immediately wishing he could swallow his words, noticing your eyes narrow, sizing him up. you’re the prettiest girl in this place, the only one he’s even looked at twice and now you hated him.

“whatever asshole,” you snarl, before continuing your way to the busy bar.

eddie hesitates for a moment before shoving through the path you’d made, angering another ten people on his way. he didn’t care, that couldn’t be your only impression of him.

he catches up, squeezing into the tiny space next to you, leaning against the sticky marble as you wait patiently.

his hand brushes your arm, earning another sly glance, face screwing up as you realise he’d tailed you to the bar.

“sorry,” he starts, not giving you the opportunity to tell him to fuck off first. “i wanted to apologise.. i was rude,” tongue resting on his bottom lip, appreciating the new found lighting and how it made you glow.

“you were,” smiling pointedly, eyes trailing down his chest, “but you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

eddie stares, mouth agape at your brutal, up-front attitude before it turns to a tiny smirk, “i think that’s fair,” honestly he admired it. the only girl in here worth a second glance.

“vodka,” you add, making room for him to order.

he takes one last admiring look at you before turning to the bartender.

you tunnel your way back through the crowd, your friends long gone by now. eddie didn’t mind keeping you company, not one bit.

his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you gently back towards him. rightfully earning another scathing glare as you stop, inches in front of him.

“you’re not gonna even tell me your name?” he leans in, smirking as he does.

your lips brush against his ear, name soft as silk as you mutter into his hair. it sends shivers down his spine, wanting your lips on his ear and his neck.

“eddie,” he replies, resting his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close in the packed club.

“are you a dancer, eddie?” the way his name rolls off of your tongue makes him unfathomably crazy.

“not really,” he mumbles, tongue poking out of his lips.

“too bad,” your smirk, pulling towards the bustling dance floor before he can argue against it.

he didn’t like clubbing nor dancing but if you insist, he couldn’t say no.

the music ripples around him, hazy when all he can focus on is you and the way your hips twist in time to the beat. you’re not even trying and yet he’s completely encapsulated by your body.

there’s an attempt at dancing along with you, though he’s not any good. itching to just place his hands on your waist and let you guide him.

the purple light catches your eye as you move closer, eddie’s eyes latched onto you the entire time.

“you’re really not a dancer, are ya’?” you lean in to whisper.

“can’t help it, i’m distracted,” he purrs, daring to place his hand on the small of your back.

you purse your lips, keeping whatever snarky comment to yourself.

fuck it.

“d’you wanna get out of here?” eddie asks, “i know a place.”

your brow quirks, “hm? how do i know you won’t kidnap me?”

he tilts his head, meeting your eye, “you’ll just have to trust me,” offering his hand for you to take, eager to get you out of this club.

really, he’d go anywhere if it meant he could look at you properly without getting elbowed in the back by sweaty drunks.

you hesitate for a split second, which he supposes is fair, before placing your hand in his, permission to lead you from the dance floor and out into the chilly night.

your arms wrap around yourself, shivering in the cold.

eddie doesn’t hesitate, taking his jacket off and placing it around your shoulders. “it’s not far from here.. we can walk?”

your eyes narrow once more, pulling his jacket tighter, “lead the way, eddie.”

he knows you’re trying to taunt him, maybe rile him up a little and by god is it working. taking your hand once more as you start the walk to his apartment, anticipating coursing through his veins.

the elevator ride up to his floor is hell, fingers twitching to touch you. he’d do it too, if you were alone. plagued with one of his neighbours just trying to get home as you hang off of his arm.

eddie’s thankful his floor is first, losing the will to not just grab you right then and there.

your mouth falls open, eyes flitting around the apartment he definitely didn’t pay someone else to decorate for him.

“you live here?”

eddie didn’t grow up around money. he lived in a trailer for most of his life, cramped into the tiny home with his uncle in some dead end town until he finally found the nerve to move himself to chicago.

there were dreams of a music career that wilted away pretty quickly after he realised that there were a hundred and one other screwed up teens just like him, all wanting the same thing.

selling drugs wasn’t exactly his chosen path but he’d sold a little weed in high school and found he wasn’t awful at it and now here he was.

with more money than he knew what to do with and a reputation for being a hard ass.

he doesn’t entertain your amazement, sidling over to you with his hands already finding their place to your waist.

“the bedroom’s even better,” eddie smirks, feeling your fingers twist around his t-shirt.

“go ‘head,” half-smile on your pretty lips.

your body brushes against his as you trail behind, not wanting to waste another second. he hasn’t even kissed you yet, has no idea how addicting you’ll taste, the slight hint of vanilla in your smudged lipgloss.

expertly twisting you around, stumbling over just slightly before he catches you, planting his lips on yours, manoeuvring your entwined bodies around the darkened room.

he’s done this dance a hundred times, but something about you feels different. you’re mailable, trusting in his hands to guide you to the bed while your hands sit atop his shoulders.

falling back onto the mattress, tugging him down atop of your body, fingers clawing at his collar while his hands roam your body, grabbing at your hips and waist.

eddie haphazardly reaches for the lamp, disconnecting your lips for a brief moment before the orange hue fills the room.

you groan in response, sprawled out on the mattress underneath him.

“i wanna see you,” he remarks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you properly again. a full battle between teeth and tongues, barely catching against one another, lips wet with each other.

you sigh softly into his mouth when his hand travels beneath your dress, sliding between your aching thighs, panties already wet and begging to be torn off.

he doesn’t though, wanting to draw this out just a tiny bit longer, removing his fingers from your heat to toy with the hem of your dress.

“fuck,” you gasp, breaking away from his lips, “don’t be mean,” swollen bottom lip jutting out to make it all that much worse.

“okay,” eddie laughs quietly, “i’m done,” sticking to his word as your dress comes down in one rough tug, grunting as he does so.

he sits up on his knees, admiring the sight of your quivering body below. “worth it,” he remarks, tearing off his own t-shirt, and launching it across the room somewhere.

his jeans are next, shaking them off of his leg as they land on the floor with a soft thud.

your hand instinctively covers your chest, shying away from his hungry gaze.

“nuhuh,” eddie bites, pulling your arm away, pinning it underneath his as he comes back to your level, hovering just above. “don’t do that.”

you blink, pulling him closer with your free hand. the cat and mouse routine had been going on far too long, even for him. feeling your heat against his cock, almost painful to the touch as it strains his boxers.

“well if you hurried up..” you start, tilting your chin towards him with a tiny smirk.

eddie laughs loudly, yanking your panties down abruptly, “alright sweetheart, i hear ya,” returning his hand to between your thighs, spreading you open with his middle finger before sliding the digit in.

you huff in response, mouth falling open as that melodic tone he’s been waiting for falls from your lips, dancing around his ears.

your head falls back against the soft pillow, opening your legs further as he shifts fully in between, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“that better?” pumping his finger between your slick folds, your breath quivering with every move.

you nod quickly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder, taking a deep breath when his thumb finds your clit.

he can’t hold off any longer, pulling his fingers out and tugging his boxers down, cock springing up against his stomach.

“mhm,” he groans, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip of his already leaking cock, lapping up every last whine of appreciation you let slip.

eddie slides in, staggered breaths as he pauses, adjusting his position to allow his hand to find your hand, fingers intertwining while you huff into his ear.

“shit,” he utters, slowly thrusting his hips, gripping your hand tighter, pressing you into the mattress.

he wouldn’t have fucked around so much if he knew this is what you’d feel like.

your thighs squeeze around his waist, the soft skin encasing him. goading him on with your sweet breathless whines, repeating his name like gospel.

working his way to the hilt, debating why he could just sit there for a while with his cock buried deep inside of you or not.

your fingers twist around his curls, gently tugging on the messy mop atop of his head.

whimpering into the tiny shared space between your faces, your eyes fighting to stay open. cheeks warm and flushed, incoherent babbling trailing from your mouth.

“you.. you feel fuckin’ insane,” eddie growls, wishing he could swallow that familiar twist in his stomach, keep this going forever and ever.

the air is warm, filthy sounds of his skin against yours fill the room as you desperately move your hips against his. loosely connecting your lips in a hazy kiss, he can feel you tighten around him, whimpers strained and needy as you near your orgasm.

“ahh fuck,” eddie mewls, burying his head into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving lazy kisses in the crook. hoping he can hold out for just a minute more while you tremble around him. coming undone right beneath his body.

you hum into his ear, running your fingers along his scalp, pulling gently on his hair.

eddie can’t stop himself any longer, pulling his cock out of your cunt before he cums, letting his release cover your thigh instead.

your nails continue to trace through his hair while his mouths babbles a bunch of nonsensical bullshit into your neck, surely condemned by a life in hell for the blasphemous shit he was saying.

coaxing his head out of the comfort of your skin to gaze into his tired eyes, your heartbeats coinciding with one another.

instead of saying anything, you grin, laughing quietly to yourself. eddie thinks you’re crazy and yet, he’s sure he might’ve just fallen in love.

eddie feels like a creep, watching as you sleep, your leg twisted somewhere between his making him terrified to even think about moving.

he doesn’t want to startle you, in fact he doesn’t really want this to end. he knows that once you wake, he’ll be lucky to see you again.

maintaining relationships wasn’t exactly a skill he possessed.

you stir sometime later, feeling your way up his chest as you come around. maybe you’d think he was a freak, maybe you’d regret it and decide to file a restraining order or something.

“morning,” you croak, lips plump with sleep, eyes barely open as they peep at the other side of the bed.

“hi,” wanting to cringe at his complete lack of charm.

“you talk in your sleep,” you say pointedly, shadows of a smile on your lips.

“oh really? what was i saying?”

you shrug, “something about a fire,” scrunching your nose up. idyllic as you bask in the morning light, a real picture of beauty.

“a fire? that’s weird, i was dreaming about you,” undecided whether it were too much too soon.

you curl away from him, shying into the pillow when a bang at the door interrupts everything, damn near rattling his entire apartment.

you look to him again, confusion threading your brows together, “who’s that?” worry seeping through your tone.

“i don’t know,” well, he had a pretty good idea of who it probably was and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with that right now.

they bang again, eddie unfurling his arm from your waist, “i’ll be two minutes,” frowning to himself as he pulls his boxers on.

as expected, gareth and jeff stand outside, gormless as their eyes fall to his bare legs.

“woah,” gareth exclaims, eyes wide.

“what d’you two want?”

“you not gonna invite us in?” jeff presses, still marvelling at his legs.

“no.”

“why?” gareth peers into the apartment, “who’ve you got in there?”

“your mom,” eddie quips, “why are you here?”

the two idiots share a look, half-offended, half trying to figure out if eddie was telling the truth or not.

“well-“ they come closer, “we’ve got that shipment.. for the thing,” brows wiggling, “couple’a weeks and it’ll be in.”

this leads to eddie closing the door further round, in fear of you overhearing. he’s not sure how well received that’d be on your first morning together.

“shh,” he hisses, looking around the very empty corridor, “you couldn’t have told me this later?”

they shake their heads in unison, “murray said to let you know, no phones.. no paper trail.”

eddie searches both of their blank faces before nodding, “alright.. alright, you can go now.”

they oblige but not before jeff grabs his crotch, winking at eddie which makes him slightly uncomfortable and letting out an almost inaudible have fun before disappearing into the elevator.

the urge to knock their heads together had never been stronger, returning to his apartment to find you stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the pictures on his dresser.

“i used to be cute, right?” he knows exactly which one you’re looking at, startling at the sound of his voice.

you turn, still holding onto the frame, “is that your mom?”

“mhm,” he hums, taking the frame from your grasp, “she..” clearing his throat, “she died when i was younger,” tracing his thumb over the image of her crazy hair.

“oh,” you frown, looking at him with pitiful eyes, “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, hair falling out of the loose bun he’d thrown up, “don’t apologise,” placing the photo back in it’s rightful place, “she was sick,” turning to you with his half-moon eyes.

he wishes he hadn’t even said it, the look on your face was too woeful, especially after the large grin you’d had plastered on it just this morning.

eddie sniffs, jumping to action, “get dressed,” he practically orders, wanting nothing more than to change the subject, “we’re going out,” telling, rather than asking.

“where?”

he shrugs, opening the large closet which mostly consisted of plain black tees and his jeans.

“i don’t have any clothes.. or my toothbrush, give me an hour and-“

interrupted by a shirt flying over, just about catching it before it lands on the ground, “wear mine, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” eddie nods, sliding into his own clothes.

you stare dumbfounded at the cotton, before glancing back at him, “uh.. i don’t- what if people think..”

he turns, smile already peaking through, “if people think what? that we fucked? oh no,” riddled with sarcasm.

“you’re not funny,” you pout though you shimmy into the t-shirt, “i didn’t mean that i just..” trailing off into silence.

eddie’s eyes widen, something about seeing you in his shirt invigorated something within.

“don’t look at me like that,” shying away though there was really no need. he’d seen it all already.

“i can’t help it,” he remarks, standing wide-eyed.

your eyes roll in return, turning away to slip into his sweats though that makes everything worse. eddie instantly jumps to grab you, squeezing your arms against your sides, eliciting a high pitched squeal from you.

“maybe breakfast can wait,” growling into your ear, tripping over your legs as he barrels towards the bed.

eddie sighs, eyeing the seemingly stagnant clock on the dash. he knows you get off at three, toying with the idea of telling you he’s coming to get you or just turning up outside your building.

he figures he’s close enough that he won’t bother, shifting into drive. you’d only seen each other yesterday but he couldn’t get enough.

girls came and went in his life, never sticking around long enough for him to really get to know them. it felt different this time, he was itching to be with you, this constant need to be near you, with you. it scared him deep down, turning his stomach at the thought of someone actually meaning something to him.

he watches the door like a hawk, positioned outside so that you can’t possibly miss him.

it’s five after three by the time you emerge from the grand door, closely followed by who he assumes are your co-workers. eyes narrowing at the sight of the spindly guy following behind.

eddie clocks the exact moment you spot him, ducking your head as you break away from the group and slide into the passenger seat.

“what’re you doing here?” you flush, though your smile is evident, creeping onto his own face.

“i can’t come pick you up from work?”

you shrug, still coy as your co-workers dawdle, staring into the car with eager eyes.

“why’re you so shy all of a sudden? not even gonna kiss me?” eddie teases, feeling the eyes of your colleagues hot on his face.

“shut up,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

he takes this as a challenge, leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to yours, waiting for your approval before embarrassing you any further.

your lips lock onto his before he can think about it, deciding to turn the innocent kiss into what he can only describe as a sloppy, over exaggerated makeout session. something similar to his first attempts at kissing.

you pull back, groaning in disgust, averting your eyes from the nosy gaggle of colleagues that still stood gawping.

mission accomplished.

eddie grins before speeding away, not bothering to acknowledge them another time.

you want to be annoyed, eddie can tell. tutting in your seat as if you didn’t enjoy that just as much as he did.

“who was that? your boyfriend?” only half-joking.

there’s another sigh, “i wish,” as you mess around with the dials on the dash.

eddie would normally smack your hand away but for you, he couldn’t.

an absolute sucker for the way your fingers danced around the tortoise shell interior, making yourself comfortable in his car like you should.

“you’ve never been to brunch?” you fret, looking at him with pure amazement over the table.

“no,” eddie chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, “why would i?”

“why wouldn’t you?” smiling wide.

there’s been a lot of firsts for eddie these past few weeks.

you’d dragged him for a walk around the park in front of his complex, perplexed that he’d never even bothered. he’d been into a florist for the first time, hand picking some overpriced bouquet just for you.

he shakes his head, shrugging. there wasn’t any time for brunch when you had to move kilos of cocaine for rich aristocrats.

“you don’t live,” you scoff, sipping on your 11am mimosa as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

it’s ridiculous how soft you make him feel. he’d do brunch in some gentrified neighbourhood every day if it meant you smiled at him like that.

everything about you is too sweet, your clothes, the perfume you doused yourself in, the lipstick stains you’d leave behind on shared cigarettes. even last week when you’d made him stop for some cat food for the tiny stray that hung around your garden. who does that?

“some of us have to work, sweetheart,” eddie teases, shuffling around on the far-too-fancy chair.

“i work,” you hit back, “only difference is that what i do, isn’t illegal,” whispering the last part of your sentence, smug as you take a drink.

he looks on in pure awe. the fact that you could speak to him like that and yet still end up his favourite person was a miracle in and of itself.

“d’you want me to pay for your fuckin’ brunch or not?”

“i can pay f’myself,” you huff.

“but i don’t want you to.”

your eyes glint, pursing your lips to the side, “i don’t want to either.”

eddie’s already trembling in the car, murray droning on about the importance of gloves next to him. this all seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago and now his stomach flipped with every turn.

that was before he had something to lose, before he met you.

maybe weeks of you loosening him up had ruined him. the soft life was a dream in comparison to this. the complete fear coursing through his veins was enough to make him never want to leave the serene calm of your arms ever again.

a couple of years ago he was just some kid selling weed to the losers that hung around the block and now he’s clutching a pistol, contemplating whether he’d survive if he just jumped out of the car.

murray wouldn’t let him. he’d find him, make him pay for being such a pussy.

eddie’s eyes fall shut, head lolling back against the seat, conjuring up images of you in his head. if he had to do it, he also had to make it out alive.

for you.

a ringing bellows through his head, fumbling with the keys as his fingers shake.

he couldn’t remember if you were at work tonight, hoping you wouldn’t have to see this. get pulled into his ridiculous life.

eddie stumbles through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom when your voice calls out from the kitchen.

“eds?”

choosing to ignore it, focussed on the churning in his stomach and the need to empty whatever was rumbling around in there.

it all comes out into the toilet, heaving and retching as you round the corner completely perplexed by whatever was going on.

he’s slumped on the cold floor, gasping for air when you speak, “eddie?” terror in your voice.

“what happened?”

eddie barely looks up, focused on not throwing up again. he can’t explain it, there’s no words to tell you what happened without incriminating himself.

your eyes fall to the red splatters on his shirt, the cuts that littered his knuckles and the purple hue that had started taking over his cheek.

any idiot could put two and two together.

he’s been cryptic about what he does for work, never saying too much but just enough for you to understand. he didn’t want to tell you, to have to drag you into all this. that wasn’t fair.

for a moment, he thinks you’re about to run out of the door and never look back. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

instead, you take charge, stepping into the bathroom with your hands resting on your hips, “get up,” you order, tugging at his arm.

he doesn’t. still partially curled around the toilet bowl, confused about your attitude.

“i said get up,” barking again, holding onto his elbow with an iron clad grip.

eddie obliges this time around, shakily standing up. he feels like a child, waiting for you to tell him what to do, to make him feel normal again.

you pull him to the sink, running the warm water, scrubbing his hands with yours. the water runs a murky colour, red and brown alike.

“get under your nails,” you add, lathering the soap on his palms, laser focused on his hands rather than the sorry state that had overcome him.

he does as you ask, scrubbing under his nails. standing aloof when you turn the water off.

your hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, “off,” nodding towards his jeans.

it’s a little unsettling that you know exactly what to do, but eddie’s not complaining. grateful for your presence, for your forward thinking. who knows what he would’ve done if you weren’t here. he thinks he probably would’ve handed himself straight into the cops.

you hold a bag open for him, gesturing for his clothes to go in. “we’ll.. we can get rid of them tomorrow,” eventually meeting his eyes again.

he nods, allowing you to guide him through to his bedroom. pliable, completely at your mercy. if you told him that jumping off of bridge would help, he’d do it.

you dump the bag of evidence on the floor before pulling out a fresh shirt and sweatpants, flinging them on the bed.

“get dressed.. i’ll get you some water,” before flouncing out of the room.

eddie hated himself for dragging you into his life like this. it was always supposed to be something separate, something isolated from your relationship.

he’s barely dressed by the time you return, feeling like a pitiful mess. if the look on your face were anything to go by, he looked like it too.

“eddie,” you begin, that same sad tone you’d had when he told you about his mom, “i don’t..” stepping closer, “need to know what happened- i don’t really want to know either but.. you can’t let it fuck you up,” looking at him earnestly, which honestly hurts more.

he nods, “i know,” because he did. “i’m sorry for-,” he sighs, “for getting you involved, i never wanted you to see this.”

you respond by throwing your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek against his chest, “don’t.. don’t start with that.”

his chin finds the top of your head, nestling into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

it’s a nice type of silence, the air heavy with unspoken words but he thinks that’s okay.

you understand anyway.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot

2K notes · View notes

ma1dita · 8 months

Text

partners in crime

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader [the trouble!verse]

MAIN SERIES MASTERPOST

summary: few things are certain in this life as a demigod, but one thing is for sure— you can’t fight fate when it pulls you and luke castellan together, over and over again. two young people who hate the gods are more like them than they think, for better or worse. annoyances to best friends to lovers

things to know: dionysus!reader's nickname is trouble & most of these can be read as standalones!

here's a playlist (spotify & apple music links now available!)

child of dionysus headcanons!

trouble!verse moodboard 1 & moodboard 2 & college!trouble by the lovely @24kmar

deleted scenes from a different universe (AUs)

play the extended cuts (blurbs from in-between)

character study: luke castellan & trouble

any works, updates, thoughts, musings, etc about this series will be tagged under #trouble!verse !

key: fluff - ☼ angst - ☽ smut - ☆ jo's favorites - ᥫ᭡

[rewind to before] pre-established relationship

trouble always finds me (trouble!reader origin story) 1.7k ☼

The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. (You're an annoyance, but not an enemy)

entropy 3.6k☼

The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. (the promise of becoming partners in crime)

buddy system 4.2k ☼

The one where he comes with you to rescue your younger twin brothers, Pollux & Castor. (this is as close to a real quest that Mr. D will give you--might as well take someone you trust!)

somebody's angel 4.4k ☽

The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. (songfic - Die Alone - Finneas)

feed the fire 1.2k ☼

The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. (Luke realizes this is more than playful banter)

bedtime stories 2.4k ☼

The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don’t mind at all. (the both of you have feelings you want to admit, but duty calls!)

crazy little thing 3.4k ☼

The one where he uses all his drachmas to make you smile on Valentine's Day. (the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite, sometimes)

anything you want 1.6k ☼

The one where you and him have your first kiss. (You've always loved teaching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; except when your Orpheus runs away from you)

said he likes crazy 2.1k ☼ ☽

The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's avoided you since your first kiss. (For being a son of Hermes, he has a way of calming your nerves)

[pause and remember us like this] established relationship

play pretend 5.1k ☼

The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren’t exactly together yet. (Drunk words are sober thoughts. Your dad just wishes Luke told you instead of him)

a wish your heart makes 1.4k ☼ ☽

The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. (The dryads will probably ban you from the kitchen after this)

chance encounters ☼

The one where you both daydream about different lives. (You think you'd find him anywhere, by soul alone)

to see the chaos through ☽

The one where he remembers he was never a good guy, just yours. (Luke makes the ultimate deal with the devil in order to save you)

not your goddess ☽

The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. (songfic - Goddess - Laufey)

don't blame the kids ☼

The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. (the Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be)

trouble's coming for you 3.7k ☼

The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. (three times Percy is oblivious (and in the way) and the time he realizes you and Luke are in love)

now that we're older 3.5k ☼

The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. (Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl)

if you need to be mean (be mean to me) 1.5k☽

The one where he leaves before you wake up. (songfic - I Don't Smoke - Mitski )

[fast forward until we meet again] post-tlt

lovers, or partners in crime 2.1k ☽

The one where Annabeth and Percy think you’re guilty too. (the last day leading up to Luke's betrayal)

love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke 4.7k ☽

The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they’re still alive. (the five stages of grief after facing a loss)

to catch a thief 3.7k ☼ ☽

The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. (Your reunion with Luke isn't quite what you expected.)

solipsism 5.3k ☽

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. (the four times Luke uses Backbiter to visit you during college ft. the first time you trust a god to help you)

forever falling: luke castellan & his four great loves (LATEST ADD) ☼ ☽

The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four great loves of Luke Castellan’s life and how it will end up killing him)

love me dry 4.5k ☼ ☽

The one where he meets you at his mother's house, though both of you didn't expect the other to be there. (a glimpse into May Castellan's idea of a perfect day)

when the curtains close 5.3k☽

The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Annabeth and Pollux find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.)

asking for trouble ☽

The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all)

as above, so below ☽ ☼

The one where you plead your case with the gods of Olympus. (The one thing the fates didn't expect was how much you'd both be like your fathers; in a way, you and Luke didn't see it coming either)

ask to be added to luke/general taglist 🥹

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo imagines #luke castellan x reader fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #🪽#trouble!verse #percy series #pjo x reader #jo's navi <3

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alexaloraetheris · 2 months

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Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

youtube

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

#sewing #stitching #clothes #Youtube

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bpsmuts · 3 months

Text

Day in the Office - Jennie and Rose

Jennie x Rose x Male Reader

Words: 1.697

Summary: You were in the recording studio with your two best friends Jennie and Rose. Bored, Jennie suggests you three play a game of "Never have I ever".

Jennie, Rose, Y/N

"Didn't you say, you wanted to be productive today Jen?" You ask your friend, who had just suggested to play Never have I ever.

Jennie sits over on the couch, with her feet up on the table "Well yeah, but were all have writer's block right now" she responds "And come on, we don't get to spend THAT much time together, plus we've already gotten good progress today" she pouts

"I wouldn't mind playing for a bit, as long as we continue with out actual work later" Rose chimes in from the desk. "You're not scared, are you Y/N?" the kiwi girl mocks you a little.

"What? No! I'm not scared, I just thought you two wanted to be productive, but fuck it, lets play then!" You challenge them as you get up from the chair next to rose and sit down next to Jennie "Who's starting?" You ask into the room

"I'll start" Jennie decides "Rosie, get over here" she orders Rose, who rolls over to the table. All of you put your hand up and Jennie begins the game.

"Never have I everrrr" Jennie thinks for a moment "Uhhh.. gotten a speeding ticket" You and Rose both put a finger down "You have never gotten a speeding ticket Jen?" Rose asks surprised "Of course she hasn't, she is being driven everywhere" You add, taking a shot at Jennie.

"I have driven before..." Jennie tries to defend herself "Okay, my turn" Rose continues "Never have I ever kissed a stranger" to which Jennie and yourself put down a finger "Okay, you two are teaming up on me" You exclaim

"How are we teaming up on you?" Jennie asks while laughing and looking over to Rose "You just are" You retort "Probably cause I wanted to work instead of goof around" I fake your anger "We are not goofing around, were taking a break. Just play your turn" Jennie responds

"Okay. Never have I ever sucked a dick" You grin as both girls put down a finger in shock "Okay, that's unfair" Rosie yells "What?! I'm just evening out the playing field here" you respond to her.

"Okay, next one counts double?" Jennie suggests to the group "Bring it Miss Kim" Rose replies "Never have I ever had sex" Jennie surprised the group as everyone puts down a finger "Now everyone is down to the last one" she smirks

"What happens to the loser?" Rose asks Jennie "Hmmm" she thinks for a bit "How about, the loser has to take their shirt off?" Jennie suggests into the room "Okay Jennie, I don't know if this is very professional" You try and veto the decision but get interrupted by Rose "Done!"

"Okay wait wait wait" You halt the game "This is totally unfair, since its Rose's turn now" You try your hardest to get the rule changed, with no luck "But Jennie could also lose Y/N" Rose remarks "I mean we can change it, if you want to chicken out Y/N" Jennie offers

"No No. Lets do it this way" You accept giving Rose the look to continue the game "Okay. Let me think here" Rose takes a thinker pose, as if she is solving a complex math problem "Okay, Never have I ever had sex with a woman" the kiwi girl grins widely, knowing you lost

You accept defeat and put down your last finger before realizing you were the only person to take one down "Now wait a minute, are you telling me both of you haven't done it with a girl?" You ask visibly confused "Not even with each other like once?" You add

"Ewww" both girls go in unison "Get your head out of the gutter Y/N" Jennie responds "Yeah we have barely even seen each other naked" Rose adds to Jennie's comment "He is probably just upset that he lost" Jennie chuckles to Rose

Still not believe them, you take your punishment as a man and take off your shirt, revealing a muscular physique with a six pack coming through quite visibly. As the room falls silent you see the two girls oogling at your upper body, with Jennie being able to catch herself quite fast.

"Its rude to stare Rosie" You mock Rose, who is still staring at your six pack "Let her be. Six Packs are her thing" Jennie tells you from the side "JENNIE" Rose retorts in embarrassment

"Do you want to touch it?" You offer Rose, who's embarrassment you find cute "Can I actually?" she replies, thinking you are messing with her "If its your thing" You chuckle. Rose gives you a look before getting off her chair and kneeling in front of you, carefully moving her fingers across your six pack

After a bit she looks up at you and quietly asks "C-Can I lick it?" with a big smile on her face "Umm.. I mean yeah, but you have to take your shirt off then too" You negotiate with the sweet kiwi girl

"I'll do you one better then" Rose giggles as she takes off her shirt, revealing her small breasts "Too small for a bra" She giggles as she shows off her chest "Oh wow Rosie, they look amazing" You respond before slowly moving a hand towards her chest, cupping a breast carefully

"Thanks" she responds before slowly licking over your six pack, moving further down towards your crotch. Right as she goes to unbuckle your belt Jennie interrupts the moment "Umm guys... Im still here"

Both you and Rose look over to Jennie, who is just sitting there. Your hand still cupping one of Rosie's breasts and her hand in the middle of unbuckling your belt, Jennie asks "Put a finger down, if you're about to have a threesome?"

Both you and Rose put up your hands before taking one finger down, chuckling. Jennie then moves closer to you and the two of you kiss, as Rose unbuckles your belt. You move your hips upward so Rose can pull down your pants. "Ooohh didn't know you were packing like this Y/N" Rose exclaims in awe as she sees your dick for the first time

"Save some for me Rosie" Jennie tells her as she also removes her shirt, showing off a white lacy bra. As Rose starts to slowly take in your length, your hand wanders from her breasts to Jennie's, cupping both of them as you two kiss.

You cant help but moan, as Rose continues to suck your dick. "Your mouth feels so good Rosie" you encourage the cute girl. Meanwhile Jennie takes off the rest of her clothes, not just revealing her boobs, but also that she wasn't wearing panties.

"What is it with you two and only wearing half a set of underwear" You chuckle. "Rosie doesn't need a bra and well.. I'm just a slut" Jennie answers, pressing her lips onto yours once again.

After a while Jennie breaks the kiss "Okay, my turn" she says to Rose, climbing down from the sofa as Rosie makes way between your legs. "Can I sit on your face Y/N?" Rose asks cutely before being interrupted by Jennie "I have a way better idea" she exclaims

"Y/N! Lay down on the sofa. Then Rosie can ride your face, while I ride you" Jennie suggests "And we can make out" Rose adds, while all three of you get in position.

As Rose climbs onto your face, burying it in her vagina, you can feel Jennie slowly slide down on your dick. You can feel the depth of Jennie's pussy as you grab Rose's ass to make sure the cute kiwi girl doesn't actually suffocate you.

Shortly after, the room is filled with smacking from the lips of Jennie and Rose, as they made out and the smacking of Jennie's pussy lips on your crotch as well as muffled moans from all three of you.

"Yes Y/N, just like that" Rose moans as she breaks her kiss with Jennie before going on to suck her nipples. "You feel so good inside me Y/N" Jennie compliments your dick.

"I'm close, can we switch Jen?" Rose asks in between heavy moans "Just one second baby" Jennie replies as she can feel herself reaching her climax. "JENNIEEE" Rose moans cutely, trying her best to hold her orgasm

Not shortly after that, you can feel Jennie's walls tighten as the Korean moans loudly, before getting off your dick, making space for Chaeyoung. Getting up from your face, you can finally take deep breaths again.

You see Jennie sitting on the floor next to you "That was amazing Y/N" she compliments as you Rose lowers herself onto your dick. You can feel the tight walls of Rose, as she starts to bounce up and down.

Jennie moves over to suck on Rose's nipples, earning even louder moans from her "Oh my god I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum Y/N!" Rose moans loudly as she also reaches climax.

After she came, Rose also got off and kneeled on the floor next to Jennie. With both girls looking at you, you knew exactly what they wanted. You stood up and positioned yourself in front of them, starting to stroke your dick.

Jennie and Rose look up at you "Cum on us Y/N, Cum on our pretty faces" Jennie encourages you "Please give us all of your cum Y/N" Rose joins in.

You moan as you start to shoot rope after rope on their faces, trying to give both of them an equal amount of your hot cum. After you're done, you look down to two satisfied girls covered in your cum.

"Now for the best part" Rose says, before turning to Jennie and planting some kisses on her mouth. You sit down and watch the girls make out for a bit. "This was so much fun" You exclaim after gathering your breath.

"Definitely" Jennie replies, as she swipes your cum from her cheek into her mouth and swallows it. "Im gonna get us something to clean ourselves up with" Rose says, getting up and walking out of the room.

Author's Note: If you've made it this far, thank you <3

If you want to leave feedback, please either comment or DM me!

#blackpink imagines #blackpink smut #blackpink #blackpink x reader #male reader #jennie smut #kim jennie smut #rose smut #rose x reader #chaeyoung

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sugar-phoenix · 3 months

Text

𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔

synopsis: you're out on an operation with Boothill, and after a long battle and a quick getaway, you turn to realize that the cyborg cowboy is...overheating. With all the implications that come with that. tags: f!reader (Boothill refers to reader as "Lady" and "Missy" once), no smut, fluff, light romance a/n: 1.3k words, wrote this in a craze based off of a headcanon that @k9wa and @nvuy posted about! tickled my brain too much!

ao3 link here!

The sound of gunshots rang out in the night. You ducked in your getaway vehicle, a hover car illegally outfitted with nitrogen turbo boosters. Sticking our head out of the car every now and then, you aimed your pistol at the heads of IPC guards, knocking them dead left and right.

Boothill had been inside the IPC base for a while now. It was supposed to be a quick job. He only needed to run in, download the secret data straight to one of the USB ports on his hip, and then run out. Probably nailing an IPC soldier or ten in the head while he was there.

“Boothill,” you muttered, “where are you?”

You met the cowboy only once before this operation — he had sought you out as a fellow Ranger against the IPC for your getaway vehicle.

“’M gonna be lootin’ a pretty big IPC base, ‘n I need some kinda escape route,” he drawled. “You git me?”

You happily agreed. Why not? Anything that would be a loss for the IPC was a win for you.

Not to mention the cyborg cowboy was one of the finer men you’d come across in your travels.

Presently, you shook that thought out of your mind and fired a shot at another guard. It’s better to stay clear-headed when you’re in a shootout. Any unholy thoughts were perfectly fine to sift through in safer, calmer settings.

“Where is that dang cowboy?” you muttered again for the fifth time.

A hoot and a holler rang through the air, and you glanced towards the entrance. As though in answer to your question, Boothill emerged from within the base, running full gallop towards the vehicle.

“Start drivin,’” he ordered as he slid into the passenger seat.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied as more IPC soldiers spilled out of the entrance. The engine roared as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

“Ugh, turn up the A/C,” Boothill groaned.

“Turn ‘em up yourself, cowboy,” you responded. “I’m too busy making sure we’re getting away.”

The cyborg reached towards the dashboard and rotated the knob to the coolest possible setting. He leaned back into his seat, huffing and panting.

“All good?”

“Yeah. ‘S just a lot of fighting. Got me worked up.” He sniffed. “This dang A/C ain’t cool enough for me.”

You shrugged, checking the rearview mirror. The IPC vehicles were hot on your heels. Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for you. As an expert driver, you were fully trained in the art of evasive maneuvers. It’s what the cowboy hired you to do, after all.

You sped into the nearby city, a metropolis that conveniently had many twisty alleys and tight turns.

“This’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t you worry, cowboy,” you chuckled. The cowboy didn’t answer, and you were too busy focused on the road to check on him.

Drifting through intersections and jumping across lanes, you managed to throw off the majority of the IPC squadron pursuing you. There were only three small hover vehicles left, chasing you through a single-lane alleyway. You revved your engine to taunt them and cackled as the reverberations echoed off the buildings on either side.

The hovercar drifted, fishtailing as you made a sharp turn to the right. You swore as the sound of screaming metal rang out in the air, signaling that your spoilers had scraped against the walls.

“That’s gonna cost ya, cowboy,” you quipped, smiling as you saw two of the three vehicles crash into the wall behind you.

“Lady, I ain’t at fault for your drivin’ skills.”

You snapped your head towards Boothill, giving him a full-on death glare.

“Not that you drive bad, missy! I was just sayin,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. It was then that you realized he’d unzipped his jacket, letting it fall lazily off his shoulders.

Heat rising to your cheeks, you snapped your attention back to the road, trying to evade the last IPC hover vehicle. A few quick turns and an IPC crash later, you pulled into a dark alleyway and braked, turning off the car.

“Why are we stoppin’?” Boothill asked.

“They’re probably swarming the city. Best to lie low for now until it all subsides.”

There was shuffling in the passenger seat, and you turned to look.

Boothill laid back against the seat, his limbs sprawled out. His bangs were arranged in wet clumps, and sweat gleamed off his face in the glow from distant neon signs. The rest of his long hair was put up along the headrest behind him, leaving his neck bare. His jacket, bandana, and hat were thrown in the back, leaving his upper torso bare for all the world to see. His pants were shrugged low on his hip, almost revealing his unmentionables (did cyborgs even have unmentionables?). Panting and huffing, he closed his eyes, frowning. You could hear a loud hum emanate from within his robot body.

“Boothill?” you croaked, fighting to speak through the feeling of your brain frying in your skull. It wasn’t just his appearance that was, well, hot, but a boiling heat was radiating off of him. You had hardly noticed in all the earlier action.

“Yes, darlin’?” He groaned. Your heart fluttered at the way he said darlin.’

“What. Are you doing?” You hardly thought the cowboy was one to give in to his darker desires at the drop of a hat, although there was something off about the scene that told you it wasn’t motivated by lust.

He chuckled before answering.

“Told ya I got worked up during that fight. I’m overheatin.’ One of the problems with having a robot body, ya get me?” Boothill breathed out heavily, his breath steaming in the air. “Fudge,” he muttered, closing his eyes and frowning again.

“Are you in pain?” you asked. His stance was akin to a man tortured, impaled from the back with hot iron spears.

“Nah, darlin,’ nothin’ like that. Just… hot, is all. Really fudgin’ hot.” Boothill let out a breath of steam again. “It’ll go away, like it always does. I jus’ need ta’ keep still for a lil’ bit. Let it cool down.”

You leaned over him, trying to ignore how close you were to his hot (both physically and metaphorically) abs, and pushed the passenger door open. It only went so far as the narrow alleyway let it, but you could feel the cold air of the night wash over you both.

“Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,’” he murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” you said, leaning back. You jumped when your arm brushed over his body.

“Did I burn ya?” Boothill didn’t move but his eyes fixed you with a worried look.

“No, you didn’t, it’s just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence without embarrassing yourself. A heat creeped over your cheeks again.

“Oh, I see,” he smiled. “You can touch me if ya want darlin.’ I don’t bite.” He punctuated that sentence with a wide grin, showing off his shark-like teeth.

“But not right now,” he said as you tentatively reached an arm towards him. “Not while I’m hot like this. And it ain’t cause I might burn ya sweetie, but with all due respect, I ain’t wanna touch anything right this moment.”

“Got it,” you said sitting straight back in your seat.

A silence filled the car, gently broken by the whir of Boothill’s internal fans and the ambient hum of the city outside.

It was a comfortable, soft kind of silence. You let it soak into your flesh, down to your bones, etching this moment inside of yourself. It was nice.

“’Course, when I’m not overheatin,” Boothill murmured, “you’re free to touch whatever.” He grinned mischievously.

“Stop it,” you said. “You’re gonna make me overheat.”

dividers by cafekitsune

#hsr fanfiction #hsr fanfic #boothill #boothill hsr #hsr boothill #boothill fanfic #boothill x reader #fluff #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfiction #honkai star rail fanfic #boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail boothill #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #✎ . writings #✤.fanfics

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cinnasweetss · 4 months

Text

rickenbacker (p.sh)

synopsis: sunghoon wants to get his hands on the popular indie band's guitarist at his uni. might come with some sacrifices though.

or the one where sunghoon betrays his friend for pussy (deserved!)

genre: smut, pw minimal plot.

characters: guitarist!reader, loser!sunghoon, mean!hyung line

wc: 3.6k

(content under cut)

content: bullying, homie hopping, betrayal, slight voyerism if u squint, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, sunghoon doesn’t believe in pulling out, dirty talking, minimal plot, etc etc

sunghoon first sees you at your university's summer festival.

he meets you three weeks later when youre accompanied by heeseung. not exactly on his arm, but its rare to see him with a girl he hasn't slept with.

sunghoon develops his newfound attraction to you then. when he sees you off stage, away from the big lights and loud music played by your guitar. sure you were pretty up there too, but up close, god. he can feel his heart thump in his chest the moment you step inside the room with your bandmates.

he's heard the rumours, that the all-woman band in his university has a knack for attaching themselves to one male friend group a month. thanks to heeseung, he guesses, it's their turn now.

there's four of them, and only one of you. plus the two other girls you came in with, who seem to have drifted right over to Jay and Jake. it doesn't bother him, really. he can pay way more attention to you without having to entertain some girls. he's quickly pulled from it though, when heeseung nudges him with his foot, "Dude, get the beers."

It's embarrassing when you snicker, vampishly nudging his shoulder with an overly drawn out "Don't be so mean, hee." after sunghoon finally makes himself useful.

He sets the cans on the table, watching as multiple hands reach out to grab them until the table is cleared. "You don't drink?" Your voice rings in his ears, coated with disappointment as you watch him shake his head. "He's always been like that, don't mind him."

.....

Sunghoon knows he shouldn't be letting the six of you treat him like this. making him store-run with his own money, ordering him around, expecting him to buy dinner everytime the seven of you go out.

he only does it so he can glimpse at you every now and again. wants to get the most out of these last two weeks he probably has with you before you run off with another group of guys. even when he catches you talking about exactly who that next group is.

You sent him out to buy you a pack of cigarettes just down the block as the other five bullshit around at the bar. He finds you outside, cigarette tucked between two fingers adorned with white nails. "Thanks, hoon" you really have to admit, this is a new dynamic. whenever you and your bandmates attach to a group of guys that outnumber you, the ones who aren't picked seem to fuck off.

sunghoon either doesnt care, or enjoys being the groups water boy. either way, it's fucking weird having him constantly hovering around. "Sit next to me." You invite, scooting over and patting the area beside you. Of course he listens, sitting without a word.

you have to admit, you haven't heard him say anything other then small phrases. you don't even know if he's able to hold a conversation if you tried.

"you're pretty quiet...are you always like this?"

That feels like a knife in the chest. he so badly wants to say no, that it's only like this because the six of you are too busy obsessing over each other to know he's even there. but he knows that's not true. he knows he's heard that too many times for it to not be true. "Yeah, kinda." It leaves him in a mumble, prompting you to shift your body to his to hear him better. over the sound of music from the bar and the sound of cars zooming by.

"I've got another friend, do you want to meet her?"

you don't mean harm by it, you're just curious if this is actually how he is, or if he's only acting this way because his friends are excluding him. which, you are too, but you can only handle one guy at a time. based off experience.

"I'm fine, thanks." it's another mumble you can barely make out, but you know he's declining by the way he doesnt even look at you.

he'd have a greater chance at being picked if he took those glasses off, put some bass in his voice and told his friends "no" once in awhile.

you quickly decide it isn't your job to fix this man, and decide to leave to the next girl who comes around. hopefully she comes quickly enough for him to enjoy his youth. "I'll see you inside."

that leaves sunghoon with his thoughts. with the realisation that his first and likely last conversation with you went to shit just because he can't communicate properly.

he can't help that you intimidate him. maybe its the fact that he knows that youre unreachable despite almost always being a few feet away from him. you're the same on and off stage, too high for him to reach. too pretty to even think of him the same way you think of heeseung.

"Fuck!" it all settles into anger, resulting in an outburst louder than he'd like. it takes him a few minutes before he decides to join the group, eyes settling on you and heeseung tucked away in a booth together.

.....

youre not sure what exactly made you change your mind.

Maybe the fact that heeseung is boring the shit out of you, his head sucks, he doesn't really care about getting you off, or maybe sunghoon is just that much more interesting because of heeseungs recent performance.

maybe its the fact that sunghoon isn't one of the men screaming and shouting so loud you can barely hear the notes from your own guitar. the fact that he's tucked behind heeseung in the crowd, though his eyes are still seemingly stuck on you. doesnt even seem like he's listening, he's just staring. observing from afar.

two nights ago is what really solidified it for you. when heeseung rolled over after cumming once. without even thinking about trying to get you off, even when you pulled the "im gonna cum" line to get him to keep going. it wasn't hard to begin thinking about someone else. thinking about the boy who doesnt say much, barely says anything at all. is completely unreadable, and has no people skills whatsoever.

you haven't said much to heeseung. short texts since then. instead you've made plans to see sunghoon. away from his friend group.

sunghoon is too thrilled to receive a text from you that Friday night almost immediately after your performance.he's supposed to be running to the store for heeseung, grabbing beers and shit for the guys- what the fuck ever. they're gonna turn into a beer if they keep drinking like that.

he doesnt even think twice. you don't even think twice, sending the location of your studio before he can even respond.

it takes him virtually no time to wander off, shoving away Jay when he tells him he's going in the absolute wrong direction. that the store is that way, not that way. his eyes darting around to find the building your studio is inside of.

its not hard for him to find a door with the name of your band plastered right in-front of it. unlocked.

you're tucked against the wall when he comes in, those same prettily manicured hands that often hold a cigarette, strumming at the strings of your blue guitar that sits on your lap. still in the same outfit you wore onstage, making this all the more surreal.

the soft click of the door is what pulls you from it. "Lock it, yeah?" Sunghoon can barely hear you over the loud thumping in his chest, still he manages to do just that. awaiting another order from you. "You can sit. There." the way he moves is awkward, eyes moving around the room, looking at anything but you once he finally sits.

you move your guitar from your lap, joining sunghoon on the leather couch. so close your shoulder brushes against his. "Did you like it? the song, I mean..."

sunghoon only nods, eyes still avoiding yours. "You can talk to me, you know. I don't bite..." he doesn't shy away when you reach out to touch his arm.

usually a guy would gush about how sexy you look on stage, ask to touch your guitar, ask you to teach them a few chords. you don't expect him to fall for the bait, nor notice your attempts at flirting.

your only other option is to not beat around the bush, tell him exactly what you what from him. "I called you here 'cause I wanted to tell you liked you, hoonie." wasn't at all what he was expecting to hear from you next, not when its well known that you're with heeseung.

"You like me too, right? that's why you stick around even though you don't have to." you have no evidence to back this up, might even be super far fetched, but its worth a try. "Yeah, but, you've got heeseung." not too far fetched it seems, "But I want you, hoon." you quickly shake your head, leaning your upper body against his shoulder.

sunghoons got a million things going through his head at once. the fact that if he does anything with you he'd be betraying a long time friend, him being so incredibly turned on beyond belief just because you've got your tits in his hands, almost. the visual of you leaning in to kiss him right now, not knowing whether or not to kiss you back or push you away when you finally do.

you think he's going to. going to push you away and take the side of his friend that wouldnt think twice about doing this with you if the roles were reversed. he's continuously proved you wrong though, wrapping his arms right around your waist.

he'd be absolutely stupid to not kiss you back. he can't believe he even thought about rejecting you. cant believe he thought about sparing heeseungs feelings.

the incessant ringing in his pocket forces you two away, a soft "Sorry..." leaving him as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

speak of the devil.

"What the fuck, you left thirty minutes ago dude!", "hurry the fuck up, seriously."

you can't stand to hear that asshole yelling at him over the phone. he thinks he's hot shit just because he's the oldest and they all listen to whatever he asks. "Don't let him talk to you like that, hoonie..." It's low enough for sunghoon to hear only, "stick up for yourself, hm?"

Sunghoon would rather shoot himself in the foot than look like a fucking loser infront of you. your hand rubs encouraging circles against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. "Get it yourself. I'm busy." he makes sure it's firm, just so you know that he is standing up for himself. "What?! No, I told you to do it. that means do it now. not when you feel like it."

"You didnt fucking hear me? I said I'm busy. Tell Jay to get off his ass and do it for you." you can't lie, that sounds so hot coming from him. it puts a smile on your face, only because you knew he had it in him. even if it did take a little encouragement from you. "Hang up." this time you make sure your words are loud enough to go through that speaker, making sure heeseung hears you.

"Who are you with?"

With heeseung in his ear, and you practically on his lap and pressing kisses against his cheek, it's clear he needs to get off the phone. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fucking business." it's just as harsh as his words before, and yet all heeseung can say is "Who the fuck are you with, sunghoon?!"

he knows exactly who he's with. that goes without saying, especially when you whine a "Pay attention to me, hoon..." right. into. the mic.

you both can hear heeseung go absolutely ballistic as you push the phone away from sunghoon's ear, cupping his face so you can finally get back to kissing him. you're sure heeseung got a earful of heavy breaths and kisses before you finally make sure the call disconnects.

Sunghoons new found confidence comes with a bit of dominance to it seems, leading the kiss even when you straddle him and immediately grind against him. his hands instinctively move to hold your hips, only cause he wants to seriously focus on kissing you for awhile. wants to enjoy the taste of your lipgloss after he pushes his tongue past your lips.

neither of you can really do that though, not when you're both pulling at each others clothing at the same time. you want his pants off to see what he's working with, and he wants a tit in his mouth. your hands are constantly fumbling around each other, so much that you pull away with a laugh. you quickly pull your shirt off, tossing it to the side.

he's got an eyeful of your tits in your cheetah print bra, and an even bigger one when you reach behind your back to take it off. he's practically drooling, mouth hung open, focused right on the metal that runs through each nipple.

"holy shit."

he nearly cums right then and there. maybe he does, he's not too sure, wouldnt be surprised if he did. especially because when he does get a tit in his mouth, its absolutely euphoric. coldness of the metal pressed right against his tongue, grazing his teeth. your other tit sits perfectly in his hand that's switching between groping, and tugging right on your sensitive nipple.

your hands are fumbling under his shirt, trying to unbuckle his belt so you can stick hand in his pants just to cop a feel. a soft "Can I eat you out?" stops you. how can you ever say no to such a request?

You nearly fall trying to get off of him quickly so he can find a spot between your legs. suddenly the size of his dick doesnt matter, as long as he's good at this. which, he quickly proves that he is. doesnt even bother taking off your panties, nor your skirt for that matter. he just flips it up and pushes your panties to the side.

your jaw falls open, hands immediately reaching for the head between your legs. the feeling his tongue brings is pure bliss. he knows exactly where the clit is, when to switch from licking to sucking, when to push two fingers inside and- "Fuck!" he's just barely started, yet you're already this much of a mess.

its not his fault he can't stop mouthing away at your cunt, moaning each time his tongue flicks against your clit. you just taste so good, no matter how much he licks away at you, it isn't nearly enough to satiate him. he has to pull away, take those damned glasses off his face so he can bury himself deeper between your legs.

His fingers plunging in and out of you to match the rhythm and speed of his tongue only tighten that coil in your stomach. if he manages to make you cum from this, you'll be keeping him a lot longer than usual. especially because he seems to be enjoying this just as much as you do. moaning each time your hands tug on his hair and you grind against his lips.

You're unable to stop the plethora of sounds that leave you with each flick of his tongue and movement of his fingers. it's no surprise that you're just minutes away from succumbing to your orgasm."Don't stop!" Sunghoon doesn't dare think of stopping, keeps his pace steady as he eases that orgasm right from you. his eyes lock right on your face, watching as your brows furrow and your face contorts beautifully after your "I'm cumming!" he eats you through it and then some, until you stop squirming, and your grip loosens on his hair.

You genuinely believe you've seen god, that he told you to never ever settle for anything other than this. Sunghoon emerging from your legs with the same fingers that were previously inside of you now tucked between his lips, makes you wonder if he's god with the way he just sucked your soul right out of you.

you watch as he undresses himself. unveiling a surprisingly built figure you didn't know he had. and the fact that he's hung on top of all that. can't deny, you can't wait to figure out of he's as good with his dick as he is his mouth.

neither of you think twice about a condom, not when he climbs on top of you and kisses you again. you'd be fine with just this, honestly. just kissing him all night. "Ready?"

you think its really cute that he asks, not saying the bar is in hell, but its still a nice gesture. you smile up at him, a soft "yeah" and a head nod is all it takes. he shoves a hand between your bodies, lining himself up with your entrance.

you wince as he slides in, sunghoon watching intensely for any other obvious signs of discomfort. his jaw falls open, forehead pressed against yours once he finally bottoms out. he gives you a second before his hips retract and slow meet yours once again. you're relieved he doesnt immediately begin to pounce on you, as this is enough to have you clawing at his forearms.

youre just so tight, sucking him right back in anytime he pulls away. the constant clenching and trembling of your walls around him is enough to have him cum just from these very soft and cautious movements of his.

his lips find yours again, kissing through the next few thrusts in which he goes impossibly deeper, and quicker. "Fuck, you're so wet..." those words force a moan out of you that you didnt know you were holding. "Pussy's creamin' already." so not only does he know exactly what he's doing, he's talking you through it too.

you'd be satisfied if today was your last day on earth. if you died right here, right after hearing those words leave his mouth. you had no idea he had all this in him. that he was even the type, honestly. you know what they say about the quiet ones though.

you don't even have to tell him faster, its like he's reading your fucking mind. like he's became one with you so he knows exactly what to do and when to do it. its the first time you haven't had to coach a man through the entire thing. that is, if you want to get off. you'll be damned if you let this one get away.

"holy shit" he moans above you, forcing your legs over his shoulders so he can fuck deeper. you cant squirm like this either, forcing you to lay and take every single inch he's giving you. it doesnt matter how hard you push at his hips so he can take maybe an inch or two out of you, he's unrelenting.

"Hoon!" you shout, hands grabbing at the soft leather below you one you realize he's not stopping anytime soon. his thrusts are quick and short, sharp. the sound of skin slapping, moans, and the like fill the studio. more vulgar words and praises leave him, only adding to the overwhelming pleasure youre receiving from him. "Gonna keep fucking this pussy open till you stop squirming."

to be loved is to be heard. to be loved is to be seen. to be loved is to be fucked. hard.

"Sunghoon!" your breath quickens, heart thumps in your chest when you realise he's almost fucked you into another orgasm. there's no need to say it, he knows after observing you just once.

" 's so big, 's too big!" you're either gonna cum so hard you pass out, or he's gonna split you right in half. either one. you'll be fine with both, really.

the fine details are irrelevant, what matters is the absolute euphoria your walls give. his balls are so heavy and full, aching to finally release a load. he's almost there, right with you. insisting, telling you that you're gonna keep taking him until you finish. not before.

"Hoon, i'm-" it's incredible when you finally do. your walls contract so hard, your body convulses, a string of loudly drawn out sounds of ecstasy leave you before you're even able to tell him.

you swear you're ascending, cumming so hard you can't even hear sunghoon coax you through it. it's the first time you ever have tap out. having to beg him to stop for just a second. you're just so overwhelmed.

he does, kissing your chest soothingly, though not for long. he does give you a second. one second and then he's back at it again. chasing his own high. "I'm gonna cum. Holy shit."

his hips come to a hard halt. slamming into your hips one more time as he fucks his cum right into you. "Fuck!" it vocalizes in a jumble of moans, heavy breaths, and one tight grip on your hips.

he collapses ontop of you thereafter, pulling himself out of you with a hiss. his face nuzzles in your neck, leaving soft kisses there. it's almost no surprise that he's ready for round two minutes after. lifting himself off of you with a big dorky smile, and "Can we go again?"

heeseung hyung i'm gonna fuck you up for this. 11:42pm

#cinnasweetss #enhypen #smut #sunghoon #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #enha x reader #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen smut #cinnasweetss: rickenbacker #fav #enhablr #divider by: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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tiredofthehumanlife · 23 days

Text

I like Oreos and pussy, yes in that order.

Barbie dolls:Spencer Reid x gn! Reader

Word: 2 k

Summary: you and Spencer are secretly dating behind the gangs backs

Warnings: flights make you uneasy, sex jokes, mentions of you and Spencer sleeping together, mentions of eating, you make a joke within the realm of suicide and or murder but I mean you watch criminal minds so, insinuated with one sentence you're shorter than Spencer but maybes he's like standing on the bed you don't know,

Flights home after a long case were your favorite part. Although it was a bit strange to like something like that, it felt peaceful. You just watched a criminal get put in handcuffs and you all knew there was at least one less dangerous person out there hurting others. You could all rest knowing you did a good job. You weren’t worried about another killer yet. That worry met you at the bureaus’ front doors, but for now, it was peaceful. You also quite enjoyed sitting in the jet with your closest friends.

Spencer rarely shares his couch with others but you made the cut. You’d sit at the foot of the couch and he would throw his legs into your lap. He’d even cover your lap with his blanket. You usually stared at the ceiling or read a book on the rides home. Flights made you uneasy. Even with all the practice you had.

Eventually, after Reid’s nap, you were all piling into the elevator to head down to the car garage. Penelope joined you guys, digging into her purse to hand Derek a KitKat. You wobbled on your feet from your exhaustion directly over the crack of the elevator. Spencer reached out and pulled you into the elevator safely, tugging you to his side. He didn’t really need to, there where no one else to go. Strangely enough, fitting eight people into one elevator made things a little cramped. Spencer held onto your forearm, holding it to his side. It was impossible for anyone to see it, but he still got to hold you upright.

“How do you guys feel about a late dinner?” Penelope asked, staring down at her phone to type out a message before dropping it back into her purse. Emily nodded. JJ groaned.

“Please! I’ve been so hungry since we left the hotel.” JJ said, raising her clenched hands at the sky. Hotch harrumphed.

“I told you to take a snack onto the plane,” Hotch said, glancing over at JJ with a raised eyebrow. You’d seen him use the look before on Jack when he left his coat at home.

“Uh-oh, Aaron pulled out his dad voice,” Rossi muttered, making Derek snort. Hotch glared at Rossi.

“I’ll go, Jack’s probably already asleep,” Hotch said, responding to Penleope’s earlier question. Derek hummed. He tossed his arm over Penelope’s shoulders.

“I’ll come with you, baby girl,” Derek said to Pelenope, kissing her cheek. Emily turned her head to look back at Pelenope.

“You know I’m always in for food,” Emily said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. Your eyes drooped and you resisted the urge to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Hm? What about you two?” Penelope asked, looking over at you and Spencer. Spencer kept his eyes on his watch before shoving his hand back into his pocket.

“Can’t,” Spencer answered. The elevator stayed quiet as they waited for him to elaborate. You nudged Spencer with your elbow. He jerked away from you, rubbing his side.

“Oh, I, uh, have a date. I can’t cancel. We’ve rescheduled three times.” Spencer added, pinching your forearm where no one could see. You glared at him, yanking your arm away from him. Derek slapped Spencer on the shoulder.

“My man,” Derek said, shaking Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer hid his smile, staring at the floor.

“They grow up so fast,” Rossi said, placing his hand over his heart. Emily snorted. Penelope dropped her jaw and stared at Spencer.

“And you didn’t tell me?” She asked. JJ patted Penelope’s shoulder in support.

“So how long have you and this mystery person been dating?” JJ asked. Spencer shrugged, eyes still on the floor.

“Couple months.” Derek lost his mind at that. He did a little hop that made everyone’s hands shoot out for the walls, searching for stability. He gripped both of Spencer’s shoulders and shook him back and forth, once again making the elevator unstable. You pulled away from Spencer, holding onto Emily for support. She kept one arm holding onto you and the other holding onto the handles on the wall.

“Morgan,” Hotch said, his voice a little less stable than it usually was. Derek pulled away from Spencer. He cleared his throat. Slowly you all pulled away from the walls, standing up straight. You still kept close to Emily, not sure if Derek would freak out if he found out you and Spencer had also watched a movie together. How scandalous.

“Ignoring that Spencer totally left us out on important news, What about you? Are you coming with us to late dinner?” Penelope asked. You frowned.

“Rossi, do me a favor?” Rossi groaned loudly. “Can you ask me the same question? I can’t say no to Penelope.” Penelope whined at your words, stomping her heel. You gave her a sad face.

“What? Why can’t you come?” Penelope asked. You groaned, nodding your head.

“I know, I know. But Spencer is my ride,” literally and figuratively. “And-“ Derek cut you off.

“I’ll drive you home.” He said, raising his hand like you asked who would take Spencer’s place. You shook your head.

“Very tempting, but alas; I have a lover awaiting my return.” You said, touching your heart like Rossi did earlier.

“What?! You’re hiding a date from us too?” JJ asked, making Penelope gasp loudly. You shook your head.

“No!” Yes. “I was speaking of my bed. I miss her warm embrace.” You sighed and shook your head, staring off into the distance. Penelope sighed.

“I suppose I’ll allow you to skip family dinner night for rest, but just this once. You’re coming next time.” Penelope said, sticking her finger up at you. You held your hands up in surrender. JJ joined in, pointing her finger at you too.

“And you’re going to like it.” Her ‘L’ in Like getting caught behind her teeth and adding a threatening tone to her sentence. You pulled back, retreating back to Spencer.

“Help me, Spencer. They are acting strangely.” Spencer rolled his eyes. You smiled at JJ and Penelope as the elevator doors dinged open to the garage. Spencer stepped out first. You quickly followed after him, jogging to meet his pace again. The others waved bye to you two as they all stopped by the elevator to decide where they were going to eat. Once you and Spencer turned the corner out of their view, you moved closer to him. He pulled his arm over your shoulders, leading you to the car and letting you rest a little.

“They don’t know right?” You muttered into his sweater. Spencer shook his head.

“No way. Penelope would be the first to know and she seemed genuinely shocked when I said I was dating someone.” Spencer said, slipping his hand under the strap of your bag. You twisted out of his hold, letting him keep the bag. He slung it over his shoulder, the bag sitting on top of his crossbody bag.

“I just don’t want to deal with the paperwork, not to mention it’s actually quite nice not having people in our business. I don’t know how many jokes I can handle from Derek.” You said, stretching your arms over your head. Spencer pulled his phone from his bag. He started typing out a response to a text, probably Penelope telling him he was missing out or Derek congratulating him on the date again. He stuck his hand out for you. You moved back towards him, dropping your hand in his. Spencer intertwined his fingers with yours as he finished his message.

“Yeah, not sure what Derek will do when he finds out about our promiscuity,” Spencer muttered, pulling you back towards the car. You snorted.

“Right, he loses it when he finds out you’ve been dating someone for months, wait until he finds out about the night after we tried to make madeleines.” You said, rolling your eyes. You both dropped your hands and moved to opposite sides of the car. Spencer stopped by the backseat door, opening it to drop both your bags in the back. He swung open the driver’s door after closing the backseat. He dug his keys out of his pocket.

“That was a good night. I’m not telling Derek about that.” Spencer said, settling into the driver’s seat. You followed suit, plopping yourself in the passenger’s. You shrugged.

“I’m telling Pelenope. Unless you don’t want me to disclose that information.” Spencer shoved the key into the ignition. He hummed.

“As long as it’s, you know, praise. I think it’ll be fine.” You smiled, patting his shoulder.

“No, it’s definitely praise, baby. Please be serious here.” You said, snorting and looking back out the window. The ride home was easy. You got a sudden burst of energy when you saw your front door, skittering out of the car to get inside. You pulled your shoe off. You stumbled with the second and ended up a few steps away from the rack. You finally got it off and flung it towards the rack of shoes already there. You watched it skid and knock Spencer’s house shoes out of line. You ignored it and your face planted into the nearby couch, your legs sticking out over the arm. You heard the door open and close again. Spencer slipped his shoes off, leaving both of your bags by the door. He walked over to the couch, slapping your calf.

“Up. Up. You can’t sleep on the couch, you know you’re going to regret it in the morning.” Spencer said, leaning on the side of the couch. You groaned, hugging the couch pillow closer to you.

“Oh shut up, Left brain. Right brain is going to dream of rainbows and cupcakes.” You said, words muffled by the pillow. Spencer smacked your calf again.

“And a kink in the neck,” Spencer said, resting his head on his shoulder. You smirked and looked up at him.

“I got plenty of those already.” You said. Spencer glared at you. He leaned down and slipped his arms under yours. You laughed at your own joke, snorting and smacking the side of the couch.

“Alright, up you go.” He said. Spencer pulled you up, forcing you to sit up.

“Ugh. Carry me.” You groaned. Spencer pulled back and shook his head,

“No.”

“You hate me. You want me dead.” You flung yourself back onto the couch in dramatics.

“No, I do not,” Spencer said, resting his hand on his hip. You nodded.

“I had to read between the lines but it’s what you said.” You said. He knew you were joking. You knew you were joking, but you still sent him a wink to make sure. Spencer groaned and turned on his heel.

“You’re massaging that kink out of your neck on your own in the morning,” Spencer said, walking off the the bedroom. You shot up off the couch, following after him.

“Will you still massage me if I don’t have a hurt neck?” You asked, pulling his arm over your shoulder again. Spencer pressed his lips together.

“I’ll think about it.” He whispered. You cheered and clapped your hands.

“Take that mystery person, he’s massaging my neck. Not yours, loser.” You flipped off the mirror in the hall and pranced after Spencer into the bedroom. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Yeah, Penelope will never figure it out with you talking like that,” Spencer said, leaning down to kiss your cheek lightly. You nodded your head.

Eventually, you were both in your sleep clothes and pulled tightly to the other under the sheets. You slept like a well-rested toddler. Spencer said he woke up with your hand in your face but you told him you just missed looking at it in your sleep. You just felt his face like braille so you could imagine it while you slept. Spencer did not entertain your theory, bringing up the data on strange sleep positions and dreams. You actually quite liked hearing about it and mentioned one of the facts later to Derek. Which, of course, made Spencer blush and hide behind his book.

Really short part two

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you

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forwhomthewordsflow · 1 month

Text

Puppy Love

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a bit suggestive at some parts, language, more fluff

author’s note: this was totally meant to be a small lil blurb but then i ended up getting sucked into it and well…it ended up being a tiny bit longer than i thought. also, there’s some legal jargon in here that i totally might’ve misused, don’t hate me! i’m not a lawyer i swear! anywho, i’m still pretty new to the whole writing thing so please go easy on me because i’m a crybaby

p.s. i stopped writing it in order to keep the word count from going through the roof, but if you guys would like a part two picking up right where this leaves off then i’m soooo into that, i really love these two!

word count: 5.3k

Let it be known, Eddie Waylon Munson was not a dog person. This doesn’t mean that Eddie is a cat person either really, he’d actually be more inclined to categorize himself as a fish person, really. Eddie can hardly take care of himself, who in the hell would think he could take care of another living being?

Steve fucking Harrington. That’s who.

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would’ve turned him down in a heartbeat when he asked him to watch his Golden Retriever, Captain, for a week while he’s on vacation with his parents.

“Dude, c’mon. You owe me one.”

Eddie scoffed. “Since when do I owe you one?”

“I–There must be something I’ve done for you…” Steve sighs ,”Haven’t I been letting you swim in my pool free of charge?”

“Yeah, me and every single other member of our party.” Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, determined to stick to his answer of a hard no.

“Fine,” Steve huffs. “What if I gave you three hundred bucks for it?”

At this new piece of information, Eddie perked up.

“Well, well, well Harrington. Why didn’t you just lead with that?” The two boys shook hands, and that was that.

Eddie wishes he could’ve said no, but he unfortunately really needed the extra cash. The weed business had been slow due to the fact that his usual richie-rich-asshole customers are all off “summering” with their rich families wherever it is that the rich families go to do that shit.

Eddie figured that he could handle this. Steve assured him that Captain is well trained thanks to the expensive trainers that his parents hired, plus Eddie would get to stay at Hotel de Harrington while he watched the dog. Eddie will mind his business, Captain will do his own thing, and Eddie would be $300 richer at the end of it all. Sweet digs and three hundred bucks is just something Eddie doesn’t have the heart to pass up these days.

–

Eddie always manages to forget just how gi-fucking-normous the Harrington’s mansion house is. As Steve leads him through the foyer and into the numerous hallways, Eddie figures he must look like he’s stepping into a house for the first time. His jaw drops a little at the seemingly priceless artwork that hangs from the walls, the crystal vases lined up on shelves, and the expensive looking furniture placed meticulously all around the house. He hopes to hell that he doesn’t find some way to fuck something up while he’s shacking up here.

“I can’t believe you live in this art museum, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, it’s all nice and fancy until you think about the fact that all the dumb shit decorating this place could probably feed a small village.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, then hears an excited bark from the other room.

“Okay, time to meet the man himself. Just warning you, he’s a hugger.” Steve winks at Eddie and jogs to unlock the door to the backyard. As soon as the glass door slides open, Eddie sees a blur of blonde fur coming towards him, and then all he can see is the ceiling.

Eddie quickly learns that this is because Captain has knocked him right on his ass.

Captain squirms on top of Eddie, trying his hardest to lick him all over his face and neck while Steve is bent over cackling at the whole ordeal.

“Okay, okay buddy. Thanks so much,” Eddie says unenthusiastically while glaring at Steve. He gently shoves Captain off of him and stands back up, only to look down and realize that his all black outfit is now covered in little golden dog hairs. This only causes Steve to laugh harder.

Steve straightens back up after being hunched over and sighs, “I warned you man,” then walks past Eddie and into the laundry room, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes.

Captain trots happily behind the boys as Steve shows Eddie where Captain’s food and water bowls are, how much to feed him and when, and where his leash and harness are. Steve assures him that he doesn’t have to take Captain on a walk or anything if he doesn’t feel like it (he so does not), but he does have a grooming appointment scheduled on the day the Harrington’s set off on their vacation.

Eddie huffs at this revelation.

“I know man, I’m sorry. My mom had apparently scheduled it months ago and forgot it was on the day we were leaving. But it’s really easy I swear, you just drop him off at noon, and then pick him back up at three. It’s already paid for and everything.” Steve looks at Eddie apologetically, and Eddie figures it won’t be that bad.

–

Eddie was wrong. He’s only been watching the dog for an hour and already he knows he’s not cut out for this shit. Captain is stuck to Eddie like fucking velcro. Who knew dogs could be so needy? Eddie goes to sit on the couch? Captain needs to sit right next to him. Eddie needs to go to the kitchen to grab a drink? Captain is practically stepping on his heels as he trails behind him. Eddie has been pretty lenient so far, it’s only a week right? But he’d had enough when Captain was demanding to follow him into the bathroom, pawing at the door and whining when Eddie wouldn’t let him in.

Thank god for that goddamn grooming appointment.

Despite being only a couple hours into this gig, Eddie needed some alone time.

Captain seemed just as excited to get out of the house when Eddie fought to put his harness on him. He never thought he’d ever be spending a full ten minutes practically wrestling with a 70 pound dog, but Captain just wouldn’t sit still. After all was said and done, Captain sat and waited next to the front door calmly, while Eddie emerged sweaty and breathing heavily.

–

The grooming salon ended up being only ten minutes away from Steve’s house, which Eddie was thankful for since Captain decided to sit shotgun and stare at Eddie the entire way over. On the outside, the place looked fancy. Eddie scoffed a bit at the Grecian columns bracketing the entrance, and the name of the salon printed in gold swoopy letters across the large window panes in the front. He couldn’t believe people were willing to shell out enough cash to bring their dogs to a place like this all for a haircut. Eddie looks over at Captain, who is of course staring at him…still, and sighs.

“Here goes nothing I guess.”

Eddie wrangles Captain out of his van and into the salon, hoping to God that these people wouldn’t be able to smell the poor on him.

What actually occurred was quite the opposite.

Upon opening the glass doors, Eddie was hit with a whoosh of cool air and a small bell chimed to let the employees know that someone had walked in. Captain was apparently very excited by the gust of air, and decided to jump in circles around and through Eddie’s legs. While Eddie was caught up in detangling himself so he doesn’t fall flat on his face, he hadn’t noticed you walking up to them.

“Hi there, need some help?”

Eddie looked up and could’ve sworn he heard a choir of angels singing.

You stood there smiling at him, the prettiest girl Eddie had ever seen in his 24 years of life on Earth. He doesn’t think he’d ever had someone smile at him like that before, but he knows he could definitely get used to it.

While you were waiting for Eddie to respond, you noticed that his dog’s leash was still quite tangled around his legs. Deciding to take things into your own hands, you take a few steps back and kneel down to the ground to call the dog to you. He comes bounding up to you, causing his leash to slide smoothly out from under Eddie’s legs, rendering him untangled at last.

Eddie blinks, suddenly he’s untangled and Captain is jumping up onto you, ever the hugger.

He finally gets his head out of his ass and jogs up to you, grabbing Captain’s leash and yanking him off of you.

“Bad boy, Captain. We’re supposed to ask for consent before hugging pretty girls.”

Eddie is elated when he spots a blush crawling up your cheeks. You stand and brush yourself off.

“It’s really okay. Captain has my consent to hug me any time he wants!” Your voice had risen to a puppy-talk octave, Eddie never imagined he’d find that so adorable. You lean down again to scratch Captain behind the ears, and the dog looks up at you with stars in his eyes. Eddie, having caught a whiff of your perfume as you bent down, is sporting the same look.

You straighten up with a happy sigh and look up at Eddie with a grin.

“Well then, now that we’re all introduced, how can I help you?”

Eddie all at once forgets why he’s here, caught up in your beautiful gaze. He feels like he should shield his eyes from yours, lest he burst into flames from taking in your beauty.

“I’m—uh...I’m grooming. N-no, that’s not right, sorry.” You giggle quietly while he tries to finish his sentence.

Eddie laughs at his own stupidity.

“Sorry. He’s getting groomed, he should have an appointment under Harrington I think?”

“Sure, let me check on that.” You turn away from him to walk back towards the front desk, and boy is it a treat for Eddie. You’re wearing a cute company t-shirt, white sneakers, and these perfect fucking denim jeans that cause Eddie’s to get a little tighter. They must’ve been tailor-made for you with the way they’re hugging your thighs, your hips, your ass–

“Alright, I’m seeing that Captain is just here for his routine trim, yes?” You look from your computer screen up at Eddie to find him already staring at you with his mouth slightly open. The look on his face makes you giggle a bit, and this seems to snap him out of his daze.

“Uh, yes. That sounds right.” Eddie shakes his head a bit to rid himself of all the impure thoughts swirling around in there. “I’m just bringing him in for a friend, so whatever’s on there should be right.”

You pretend to type some more as you try and find the will to push down the blush warming your cheeks. You already clocked that he was gorgeous when he stumbled through the front doors, but how in the hell does he keep getting better? You noticed the bulge of his bicep when he yanked Captain off of you, the warm chestnut color of his eyes, and now his super-sexy-deep voice? Being turned on at work was not on your agenda today…

After a few seconds of nonsense typing and very deep breaths, you look back up at Eddie to find him smiling at you.

“That’s really sweet of you, to help out your friend.”

Eddie puffs out his chest (as though he hasn’t been mentally complaining about watching Steve’s dog for multiple hours).

“Yeah, I do what I can to help.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders in a way he hopes comes across as ’Yeah baby, I’m just a helpful guy. Super nice, super sweet, definitely boyfriend material..’

You grin and finish getting Captain all checked in.

“Alrighty! Captain’s all good to go. I can get him taken back and then we’ll see you in three hours.”

Your sweet smile has Eddie captivated until he realizes you’re holding your hand out for Captain’s leash. Eddie reluctantly hands it over, because now he has to wait a whole three hours to see you again. You take the leash, wave ‘bye’ to Eddie, and walk through the door that leads to the rest of the salon. Eddie lets out a deep sigh.

Goddamnit.

—

Three hours turned out to feel more like three days when it meant waiting to see your face again. Eddie arrived fifteen minutes early to the salon (a first) and waited anxiously for Captain’s scheduled pickup time to roll around. Eddie strutted into the salon not a second too late before screeching to a halt.

In your place, stood a much older, much rounder lady. Eddie deflated a little, cursing himself for not finding out if you’d even be here at this time. He huffs out a breath, and begins walking up to the front desk.

Then, a thought pops into his head.

Maybe, if he’s nice enough, he can ask the older woman about you. Then at least he’d have your name and maybe even when you were working next!

Eddie decides it’s time to amp up the ol’ Munson Charm.

His tentative walk turns into a swagger-filled stroll as he reaches the front desk. Eddie leans on an elbow and smiles a devilish smile down at the woman. She looks up at him with wide eyes as he dings the silver bell that sits on the desk, winking at her while he does it.

“H-How can I help you sir?”

“Oh sweetheart, please…call me Eddie.” He goes on after she spends a moment too long gazing up at him, “And who might you be?”

She gulps and straightens her horned glasses. “B-Betty. Betty Brown.”

“Hello, Betty Brown,” Eddie can tell his charming smile is having an effect on her, and he’d be lying if it wasn’t boosting his ego a tiny bit. “I’m here to pick up my dog, Captain. Brought him by a few hours ago to get his haircut…you know how he likes to impress the ladies.”

Betty nods and takes a deep breath before turning to the computer to try and hide her smile.

“Okay, Mr. Eddie. I checked him out with the card on file, he should be up here shortly.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Eddie waits a moment, before launching into his plan. “I was actually hoping you could help me with a little something else.”

Betty looks back up at him, blushing when they make eye contact.

“See, when I was in here earlier, there was a really nice girl helping me out. But, silly me, I completely forgot to ask what her name was.”

To Eddie’s delight, Betty’s face lights up in recognition. She says your name with so much glee that it’s obvious to him how loved you must be around here.

“Yes, she got off an hour ago. She usually works the morning shifts, except on Fridays because those are her days off.”

Eddie quickly learned that underneath Betty’s bashful smile was a woman who loved to talk, and he couldn’t be happier for it. Eddie quickly learned how long you’ve worked here, that you don’t have any pets of your own, and that last Christmas you brought the most delicious homemade cookies for the entire staff. He also learned that you’ll be working again for the next two mornings.

Eddie left with Captain and a smile on his face, but not before pressing a kiss to sweet, sweet Betty’s hand. Thanks to her, Eddie’s confidence is restored and he actually thinks he might have a shot with you. All he has to do now is figure out what his reasons will be for coming back to the salon two days in a row.

–

He spent all evening pacing around the Harrington’s house trying to come up with excuses to come see you. All of the ones he’d thought of so far made him look like even more of a jackass than he did today.

I thought I might’ve dropped my wallet somewhere around here. A gorgeous girl isn’t going to want to go out with a guy who drops his shit everywhere. Pass.

I think Captain needs a little more of a haircut, maybe just another half inch off? First of all, Eddie doesn’t know shit about haircuts. He’s been doing his own with kitchen scissors in his bathroom mirror for over a decade. Second, he would never risk potentially offending you and your work as a dog groomer on the off chance that you’re the one who cut Captain’s hair. And lastly, for a dog, he’s got to admit that Captain looks pretty damn good after his appointment. Who knew a dog could look so regal and majestic? Anyways, PASS.

It was only after Eddie had plopped down on the leather couch with a huff of defeat that he heard the first few plinks of raindrops hitting the windows. Eddie went to his phone to check the forecast for the rest of the night, and as luck would have it, there was a 100% chance of thunderstorms until tomorrow morning. As all the pieces of his new plan began stitching themselves together, Eddie finally allowed himself to relax.

–

Eddie used to hate his “backyard,” if you could even call it that. Behind the trailer was a medium sized patch of dirt, with some sorry-looking green plant-things trying their best to survive scattered about. The only times Eddie would really look forward to going outside to play as a kid, much to Wayne’s dismay, was when it rained. Because when it rained, the once dry and grainy surface turned into slippery, messy mud. Eddie used to love sliding around and making mud pies and all of that stuff, and right now it seems like Captain is having just as much fun, if not more, than Eddie used to.

The yard was fenced in, so Eddie wasn’t too worried about Captain running away despite Steve’s promises that he’s ‘leash-trained’. Eddie planned to tell you otherwise though.

‘He just somehow managed to get away from me. Yeah, I had to chase him all through the mud and dirt this morning. But I caught him because I’m like, really fast and strong and stuff.’

He does feel a little guilty about lying to you. But he figures that if it’s something the two of you can laugh over at your wedding someday, then it’s well worth the little white lies.

Eddie’s brought back from his reverie of you in a long, white dress by Captain dropping the mud-soaked tennis ball at his feet…again.

He couldn’t believe how much energy this dog had. They’d already been out here for twenty minutes and Captain just kept going and going. Eddie did have to admit, it was sort of fun watching him play. He even found himself laughing out loud when Captain would get the ball stuck in a puddle of mud and not hesitate to dunk his entire head in to retrieve it. There was even one point where Captain got so excited and amped up that he just zoomed around in circles over and over again.

Maybe dogs aren’t so bad after all.

After another ten minutes of chasing around the now mud-covered tennis ball, Captain decides he’s done playing and sits down at Eddie’s feet. Eddie can’t help but notice that he’s panting pretty hard. “You must be thirsty, huh?”

Eddie runs inside the trailer to grab a tupperware bowl and fills it with cold water from the tap. He hopes to god that Captain hasn’t run away already, he’s decided to really put Steve’s whole “leash training” thing to the test. But sure enough, when Eddie shoves his front door open there he is, sitting nicely at the foot of the trailer’s steps. Eddie pats his head, then promptly wipes the flaky, dried mud off onto his jeans. “Good boy.”

After Captain is done drinking water, Eddie looks him over to ensure that he is completely and totally covered head-to-toe in mud. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he decides that it’s time for the next stage of his plan to take action.

He loads Captain into the back of his van (Eddie makes sure to drive especially slow, and Captain pretty much lays down the whole time) and he sets off towards the salon.

–

Eddie is practically vibrating with anticipation as he puts his van into park. He’s ecstatic when he sees your beautiful face smiling after two customers as they exit the salon. Eddie turns around in his seat to see Captain.

“Okay, buddy. It’s showtime. I need you to bring your A-game and be a real good wingman for me in there. Got it?”

Captain tilts his head at Eddie, as though he didn’t understand a thing he said, but then straightens up and lets out a firm bark. A laugh bursts out of Eddie as he turns the van off and goes to get Captain from the back. Before rounding the side of his van, and while he’c completely out of your sight, he does a quick smell test on his pits and breath, and then double checks his hair and teeth in the reflection of his rear windows. After deeming himself presentable, he takes a big deep breath.

“Don’t be stupid, Munson. Think charming thoughts,” he says under his breath as he starts towards the front door.

–

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t sticking around fifteen minutes after your shift was over yesterday in the hopes that Eddie would decide to come back early to pick up Captain. It’s rare that a guy comes into the salon who looks to be around your age and single, but it’s much rarer that they’re as good-looking as Eddie is. You spent the entire drive home and the rest of the night fantasizing about his voice, his big hands, his laugh. You wondered what he did while he waited for Captain’s appointment to be done, what his favorite movie was, his favorite food…But most of all, you wondered if you were making up this mutual attraction in your head? The nervous stuttering and blushing could just be from nervousness, but he was definitely staring at you a few times. You also wonder whether or not you had actually caught him staring at your ass…but maybe it’s best not to get ahead of yourself. Maybe he has a girlfriend. Maybe he doesn’t even see you that way? Maybe you should get a grip because you’re basing all of this delusion fantasy off of a ten minute conversation you had with the guy. Leave it to you to construct a made-up scenario in your head after a short interaction with a new crush.

Be that as it may…you still made sure to carve out an extra half hour to get ready for your shift today. You blow-dried your hair using your fancy products, spent quite a bit of time on your makeup, and spritzed some perfume on before you left. You even made sure to wear the same jeans as you did the day before, just in case he was looking.

The first half of your shift was spent hunched over the front desk, it was an extremely slow day so far. You found yourself perking up a bit whenever a dark haired individual would walk by the front of the salon, only to droop back down again at the realization that it wasn’t who you wished it was. With all the rain that came down in Hawkins last night, you figured more people would be making last minute appointments to have their dogs bathed, you’d hoped that today would be busy enough to keep your mind from wandering to a certain pair of warm, brown eyes. But as your shift crawled towards the halfway point, suddenly things started looking up.

As excited as you were to spot a familiar gorgeous man walking into the salon again, you couldn’t conceal the look of shock on your face once your eyes landed on his mud-covered companion.

“Oh–oh my god!” Eddie couldn’t quite read your expression, but he was relieved to hear a laugh bubble out of you after your exclamation. He stood there sheepishly for a moment before he remembered his plan: Be. Charming.

You walk out from behind the desk with a hand covering your mouth, not quite believing what you were seeing. There stood Captain, proudly smiling and panting, covered head to paw in mud. Another laugh bubbled out of you, and you were pleased to find Eddie laughing with you.

Goddamnit, that’s a sexy laugh he’s got.

“What…what happened to you?” You say to Captain, bending down to gently pat his head.

“This absolute miscreant here got out of the house this morning and found himself a nice, muddy yard to roll around in.” Eddie looked at you with a grin that made your knees weak.

He looked you up and down while you straightened back up. Was there a way for someone to get a thousand times more beautiful overnight?

A blush rose to your cheeks as you caught him checking you out. That settles it, he’s definitely flirting with you. If he can be so forward about it, maybe you can too.

You look up at Eddie through your lashes, making sure to flutter them a couple times for good measure.

“Aw. And here I was thinking you’d gotten him all dirty just so you could come and see me again.”

Eddie stills.

Fuck, he can’t believe how hot you are.

Fuck, was his plan really that shitty? Did you just call him out?

Eddie’s panicking is subdued by your quiet giggle. Thank god, you were kidding.

“It’s a good thing you managed to catch him, he looks like the type to go on an adventure in the woods.” Eddie startles, quickly realizing he’d been full-on staring at you while conducting his mental freak-out.

“Oh, yeah. I’m–like….fast…” Eddie can feel himself getting lost in your eyes as you stare up at him. His words trail off into oblivion, nothing else exists other than your pretty smile, the little crinkles next to your eyes, your lips…

Holy shit, is Eddie staring at your lips right now? Is he going to kiss you? God, you hope he does, you’ve been fantasizing about his lips for hours now. You can’t let him kiss you right here in the lobby…can you?

Eddie shakes his head a little, breaking himself from the trance you put him under.

“Ahem, yeah,” Eddie loudly cleared his throat ,”It was no big deal, really. He’s a good dog, came right back after he realized he was in the wrong.” Eddie looked down at Captain, only to find him looking right back up at him, obviously judging him for his outright lies. Eddie looks up at you, shrugging and shaking his head disapprovingly. He lets out a big, over dramatic sigh ,”I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with this one.”

“Well it’s obviously not his fault,” you reply, “Look at that face! That face could never do anything wrong. I should know, I’m actually his lawyer.” Eddie spots your poorly concealed smirk and decides to jump head first into this bit with you, excited to see if you can keep up.

“Oh really?” He crosses his arms and takes a tiny step towards you. This causes his t-shirt to pull taught around his arms, accentuating his biceps. Your mouth waters a bit.

“Yes, really. My client is as innocent as they come.” You place your hands on your hips and look up at him with a level of sass Eddie had no idea you were capable of. He decides that he loves it.

“Huh, that’s interesting. I totally object.”

“Are you implying that he acted with intent? Are you attempting to slander my client?” You place your hand on your chest in a “pearl-clutching” type of way, Eddie stifles a laugh.

“I am indeed. He knew exactly what he was doing when he ran out that door, the evidence is all over his fur,” Eddie replies.

“My client was just following his nose, any mess that ensued was purely circumstantial. He is innocent of any and all wrongdoing.” Eddie feels like he’s got stars in his eyes, he can already picture you fitting in so perfectly into a DnD campaign. You take his pause as a sign to bring your argument home.

“This is a clear case of prosecutorial overreach. My client was acting in the best interest of the household, ensuring that the yard was thoroughly inspected for potential threats, pests, intruders, or otherwise. Any mud on his fur is merely a badge of his dedication to home security.” You cross your arms, clearly having won this fake-case.

Eddie takes a step back and starts a slow clap. You take a tiny bow and burst into a fit of giggles.

“I’m impressed, sweetheart.” You hope Eddie doesn’t see how affected you are by that nickname. “Where the hell did all the legal jargon come from?”

“I used to watch a lot of Law and Order.” You look down, suddenly shy with a sparkly feeling in your chest. You really hope you didn’t come across as super weird. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to have banter like that with someone else. Hawkins isn’t a very diverse place, and you’ve found that the majority of the people living here tend to be pretty cookie-cutter conservative. It feels great to let loose a little with someone you’re interested in, you just hope you’ll get more opportunities to do it.

Eddie, on the other hand, can’t stop looking at you. Is this what falling in love feels like? The girls in this town all seem to have made their own assumptions and come to their own conclusions about Eddie: he’s a devil worshiper, a satanist, a hookup to check off their bucket list and then never speak to again. But not you, obviously. You don’t look at him with the same disgust in your eyes as everyone else in this town does. Your eyes are full of a kindness and warmth that Eddie could see himself getting used to.

“So, uh,” Eddie rambles, “What’s the verdict for Mr. Captain?” Captain perks up at the sound of his name, you giggle at the tilt of his head.

“Hm,” You tap your finger to your chin and look off into the distance, “I think a nice, relaxing bath would do. Maybe a couple treats, too, for being such a good boy.” You squat down to Captain’s height to scratch him behind the ears, and Eddie can’t help but cringe a little at the flakes of dried mud that drift down off of Captain’s head and onto the floor.

You grab Captain’s leash from Eddie as you stand back up, walking him over to the desk to get him checked in at the computer. He’s delighted to discover that you’re wearing the same pair of jeans as you were yesterday, and he mentally kicks himself for sneaking another peek at the way your hips sway as you walk. Eddie deflates a little at the realization that this might be the end of this interaction. He never wants to stop talking to you.

“I’m guessing the card on file is what we’ll be using today?” You ask sweetly, looking up at Eddie.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah that’s just fine, thank you.”

Holding eye contact with Eddie, you murmur “,You’re very welcome,” with a smile.

Oh, Eddie is so totally fucked.

Eddie watches as you walk Captain to the hallway door and hand his leash off to a younger girl. You happily trot back up to the front desk and lean on it with your smiling face resting in your hands.

“Oh, you– you’re not giving him his bath?” Eddie stammers out.

“Nope.” You reply, popping the ‘p.’ “I’m stuck on front desk duty today.”

Eddie sighs, relieved that your conversation might not be over. He puts his elbows on the counter and leans towards you a bit. “Well, it can’t be all that bad.”

Your smile widens and you tilt your head, “I think it’s starting to get better.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #modern!eddie munson fanfic #modern!eddie munson fic #modern!eddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #modern!eddie fluff #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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sturniqlo · 1 month

Text

2 Stressed Minds- M.S

summary: y/n, a current college student, is caught up with studying before her finals start. and she's stressed to say the least. matt and his brothers make a mess as they filmed their video and y/n promises to clean the mess, what happens when a stressed out matt gets home and the mess isn't cleaned up?

cw: angst, crying, yelling, stress, fluff

an: thank you to the lovely @monroesturnns for the idea

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"That's one class done." Y/n sighs as she closes her book and moves all of her notes for that one class to the side. She blinks a couple of times as she closes out all of her tabs, opening new ones for her other class. She had now been studying for about an hour and a half. Unfortunately, she was stressed out of her mind as finals were coming up really quickly.

"Hi, baby. We're about to start filming the video." Matt comes through the opened door of their shared bedroom. "Oh okay, I'll be in here still. Studying." She spins on the desk chair to face Matt, rubbing her eyes from all the reading and bright light from her computer.

"Are you sure you don't want to come and watch us film for a bit, get a break from all your studying? You've been cooped up in here for almost two hours. You need a break." He takes a couple of steps towards her and he rubs her shoulders as she looks up at him.

"As much as I would love too, I want to get all of this reading and writing studying done before tomorrow since I'm going to do all of my lab studying tomorrow on campus." She sighs in relief as Matt massages her tense shoulders. "Alright-" Matt gets cut off by Nick yelling. "Matt, come on!" Y/n giggles.

"I'll be back in a bit, want me to shut the door? We're gonna be pretty loud." He kisses her forehead. "Please." She says. "Okay, don't stress yourself out. You'll do prefect on your finals." He reassures her, he knows how anxious and stressed out she's been since finals are getting closer and closer. "I'll try not to."

Matt soon leaves the room and quietly shuts the door. Y/n turns back to the desk and opens yet another book for her next class. "Fucking hate this class." She mumbles to herself, grabbing her pen to start writing notes. Soon enough she starts hearing the loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was really close to her and Matt's room. She didn't mind it, in all honesty it helped her more knowing that they were having much more fun than she was made her study faster so she can try and catch them and watch them for a bit.

Unfortunately by the time the triplets finished filming their video, she was only half way through her studying for the class she had started on when the boys started filming. "Still studying?" Matt closes the door behind him, she didn't even hear him opening the door, to focused in her work. "Hey, didn't hear you come in. And yes, unfortunately. I still have three more classes to study for." Y/n puts her pen down, taking a mini break.

Matt takes a seat in the unmade bed, Y/n usually has done every morning after they get up but this morning she had to meet up with one of her classmates and share some notes from class, "We're going to head out to the warehouse, the merch got there so we can start packing and sending out orders." He says, frowning at Y/n's tired face. She had light under eye bags, looked a bit pale and her lips were red from the excessive biting.

"And we probably won't be back until late at night." Y/n nodded. "Oh okay, I'll probably be asleep by the time you get here, I'm exhausted and I'm still not finished." She sighs. They keep a conversation for bit until Matt realizes it's time to go. "I'll see you tonight, okay? I love you." He gives her a kiss on the lips. "I love you more."

Y/n took a break from studying after the triplets left and decided to order herself some lunch. When she got the notification that the food had arrived, she quickly ran out to get it, not paying any mind to the state of their home. She ate, tossing the trash in the trash can they had in their room and went back to studying.

Sometime between four and five in the afternoon, Y/n's phone buzzed causing her to wake up lifting her head up from her book, grabbing her phone still half asleep.

matt<3

hi baby, i know this is too much to ask for but can you clean the kitchen for us? we're having people over tomorrow around ten to film a video. thank you sooo much. i love you! be home soon :))

Y/n, too tired to read any more words, just replied with a simple okay even though she didn't know what she was saying okay to. She got comfy, resting her head on the desk once more and took another nap. It to have been thirty minutes later because it was now 5:39pm and she gasps looking at the time. "Shit- why'd I sleep for so long?" She pulled up her third class' study guide and got back to what she was doing before.

Three hours later, Matt was finally home. As he walked through the door he went up the stairs and was met with the same mess in the kitchen. "What the hell? I thought she was gonna clean it up?" He said angrily, running a hand across his face. "Matt, it's okay. She's-" Nick started but Matt didn't care to hear any of it and went to their joint room and closed the door behind him.

"Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen?" He spoke loudly, causing Y/n to get startled as she didn't hear in come in. "Oh- Matt you're home." She said. "Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen?" He said once more. "No you didn't?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Yes I did! I clearly sent you a message and you replied with okay." Y/n finally realized that was the message she had received earlier. "Oh my god! I'm sorry, I was half asleep when I saw the message I didn't even read it." Matt grew angrier.

"Were you even studying this whole time I was gone? Or were you busy sleeping?" Y/n is taken back, Matt has never yelled or raised his voice at her. "Hey, what's gotten into you?" She says softly, trying not to rile him up even more. Standing up and walking toward him, she tries to wrap her arm around him but he pushes her arms back to her.

"No, you were here the whole afternoon and couldn't get off your ass to clean the fucking kitchen? Me, Nick and Chris are having people over tomorrow, do you know how embarrassing it is for people to walk in and see the mess?" Y/n starts to tear up. "M- Matt, I'm sorry, I'll go clean it right now, okay? I'll- I'll put my studying to the side." Tears roll down her cheeks. "You couldn't even make the fucking bed? It's the least you could've done! You're useless around here." He yells.

"Matt." She whimpers, sniffling as her tears continue to fall. "Hey, Matt. That's enough." Nick suddenly appears behind Matt. Y/n wipes her tears, not wanting him to see her like this. "Nick, get out. This isn't any of your business." He turns around and looks at him. "You're making her cry! You're doing too much. She's busy studying, she can't just drop everything and do whatever you tell her to."

"Nick, it's okay." She says. "No, Y/n, it's not just because he had a shitty afternoon doesn’t mean he should take it out on you." He looks at Y/n before looking back at Matt. "Chris is cleaning the kitchen, let Y/n finish her studying." Matt doesn't budge. "No, let her clean it. She's done nothing all day." Y/n has had enough. "Are you hearing yourself, Matt?! Do you not see my desk? My fucking eye bags? I've been studying all day!" She motions the desk that's littered with papers, books, notes and her open laptop.

"I- Nick can I sleep with you tonight?" She lowers her voice and looks at Nick. "Of course, let this fool cool down for the night." Y/n grabs the remaining of her notes for her leftover class, her laptop, and phone before heading out the room with Nick.

"I'm sorry about him. Anything he said is not true. He probably hasn't even picked up a broom ever since you went on vacation last year." He tries to lighten up the mood. "Thanks, Nick. Can I use your desk to finish studying?" He nods. "Go ahead, I'm going to go help Chris." He leaves the room, lightly closing the door behind him.

Coming down the stairs and rounding the corner he sees Matt helping Chris with cleaning the kitchen. "Is she- can I go talk to her?" Matt says, tossing away a couple of dirty napkins. Nick shakes his head. "She has so much on her mind right now, try tomorrow." Matt sighs, knowing Nick is right. He had lashed out on her knowing she was already stressed.

The next morning came and Y/n woke up before her alarm in Nicks bed. She yawned, sitting up and stretching. Carefully, she threw the covers off of her and walked to the desk to collect her belongings. Knowing everyone was still asleep in the house, she quietly trodded to the bathroom to use the toilet and brush her teeth.

Quietly entering her and Matt's bedroom she found Matt still sound asleep, fully clothed in the outfit he came home with. Y/n placed her materials in her tote bag so she wouldn't forget them. She picked out an outfit and grabbed a towel so she could take a shower. After her shower she let her hair air dry and did a bit of makeup. Everything she did, she did it as quiet as possible so Matt wouldn't wake up.

She made herself a quick breakfast and once she finished eating, she washed her dish, as always, and entered the room once again to grab her bag and key so she can head out. "Hey, where're you going?" She hears Matt groggily say from their bed. "I'm going to study my lab experiments." Y/n starts to leave the room but Matt quickly gets up and gently grabs her arm.

"Wait, can- can we talk?" Hs says, his eyes still trying to focus on the bright light outside. "Matt, I- I have to go now or I'll be running late in a bit." He frowns. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I understand if you're still mad at me." Y/n gives a sad smile. "I'm not mad anymore or upset. I know you weren't mad over me not cleaning. Nick told me something happened at the warehouse?" He nods.

"We can talk when I get back this afternoon?" She grabs his hand. "Okay, yeah. That sounds good." He smiles. "I love you." Matt whispers. "I love you more." She kisses Matt on the lips. "I'll see you later, okay?"

That afternoon, Y/n returned exhausted from trying to perfect certain chemistry experiments and hearing her professor repeat the same words over and over to her. "It's almost there, just add a bit more of that." He would say and point to a certain chemical. "I'm home." She said loudly, placing her bag on the table. "Hi, baby. Chris and Nick are out." He came out their room, going over to her to place a kiss on her lips.

"Hi, babe. Where'd they go?" She walked to the fridge to get a cold bottle of water. "They went out with the people who came over earlier." He said. "Mm, have you eaten? I can make something really quickly." She walked back over to him throwing her arms over his neck and he holds her waist. "I haven't yet- I thought we could go out for lunch." She nodded at his suggestion.

"Can we talk first?" He said, rubbing her waist. "Sure, let's go to our room?" Matt nodded. In their room, Y/n kicked her shoes off and got comfy. "I want to start off by saying I'm sorry for everything- and I mean everything I said yesterday. I didn't mean a single word. I don't even know why I asked you to clean the table, you were so busy with studying and I know how much it was draining you. I just- half of the merch that came in was defective and we were trying to get in contact with the company who made it and then Chris had mentioned people were going to come to our house I panicked and texted you and then came home stressed out and lashed out on you. I'm sorry, please forgive me? I can promise you I will never ever raise my voice at you." He pulls out a bouquet of flowers and a small bear from out of nowhere and she's stunned.

"I forgive you," She gasps and grabs the items from him. "Thank you baby." She sets them down next to her and goes to sit on his lap. "I think we both need to take a day for ourselves and have a stress free day." She moves the hair out of his eyes. "Can we have it together?" He says. "Of course." She whispers, before placing her lips on his. Seconds later Matt's stomach growls.

"But first let's get you some food and put my flowers in a vase." She giggles.

762 notes · View notes

wannabehockeygf · 1 month

Text

greedy - quinn hughes

“He said ‘I’m just curious, is this for real or just an act?’

Can’t tell if you love or hate me,

Never met someone like that.”

summary: when you’re a bartender in a popular local club, the captain of the canucks who’s also one of your regulars takes a liking to you

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 9.3k. i’m so sorry.

warnings: 18+ NSFW! fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight degradation.

notes:

- this is soooo different for me! have never written about a hughes brother before even though they’re super popular here.

- missing vancouver hockey. sorry leafs nation.

- also this is probably some of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written!

- not proof read

- the eye colour thing again… sorry if they’re green.

***

Friday nights at The Roxy Cabaret were like trying to squeeze into your favorite pair of jeans after Thanksgiving dinner—uncomfortable, chaotic, and leaving you questioning your life choices. Honestly, it felt like the entire population of Vancouver had made a pact to invade this dingy club all at once. Not that you were complaining, though—well, maybe a little. It wasn’t like you had a choice; the rent wasn’t going to pay itself.

Sure, you worked there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hold a deep, burning, soul-crushing hatred for the place, right? Well, okay, maybe "hatred" was a bit strong. You did occasionally wander in on your nights off, blend into the crowd, and pretend you were just another twenty-three-year-old who didn’t have to worry about the bartender recognizing you. Because let’s face it, you needed a break from serving vodka sodas to tipsy twenty-somethings trying to relive their high school glory days.

What really got under your skin, though, was the crowd that showed up when you were on the clock. And by "crowd," you meant the entire Vancouver Canucks roster, who seemed to think The Roxy was their personal post-victory playground. It wasn’t that you disliked hockey—you were indifferent to it, like you were to a distant relative’s Facebook posts. If it was on, fine, you’d watch. But you weren’t exactly lining up to buy season tickets.

Most of the guys were fine—great even. Some of them were downright charming, the kind of guys you wouldn’t mind chatting with when things slowed down. Plus, they tipped like they were trying to make it rain dollar bills in a music video, which you appreciated. But then there was Quinn Hughes.

Oh, Quinn. Captain Smug himself. He had a way of getting under your skin like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

"Another round, please, Princess," Quinn drawls, tapping his fingers on the bar like he owns the place.

You grit your teeth, mentally counting to ten as you shake up a cocktail. "Can you get Brock to order it? He isn’t an egotistical asshole."

Quinn just laughs, that infuriating smirk of his widening even though he looks like he could use a nap. "Aw, come on, Princess, don’t be like that. You know you love me."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. Instead, you stick to your customer service script. "That’s not my name," you say, yanking out shot glasses like they owe you money.

"I know," Quinn says, brushing a strand of hair out of his face like he’s in some cheesy romance movie. "But you act like a princess, so it suits you."

Oh great, now your jaw’s tightening. Fabulous. You grab the tequila bottle with a little more force than necessary. "What do you want from me, Quinn?" you ask, trying not to let your annoyance seep too much into your voice.

He leans in closer, his smirk practically reaching his ears. "How about a smile, Princess? Is that too much to ask?"

You force the kind of smile you reserve for customer service nightmares, tight-lipped and entirely devoid of warmth. "Is that good? Can you go now?"

Quinn chuckles, taking the tray of drinks from you like he’s doing you a favor. "Always so feisty. But I like it. Keeps things interesting."

"Fuck off, Quinn," you mutter, wiping down the counter with the enthusiasm of someone scrubbing a crime scene. "I’m not here to entertain your ego."

He leans in even closer—so close you can practically count the flecks of mischief in his eyes. "But you do entertain me. Every time you brush me off, it just makes me want you more."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You’ve got a funny way of showing it. Just because you’re some big-shot athlete doesn’t mean you can treat women however you want."

Quinn’s gaze slowly trails up from your lips, where it’s been lingering far too long, to meet your eyes. "Ah, come on, you know I always take good care of you."

And damn it, he’s right. Quinn is probably your biggest tipper out of the entire team. And while you like the money, you hate seeing his stupid messy brown hair and annoyingly pretty blue eyes at your bar every time they win.

"Sure you do," you say, swiping someone else’s card through the machine, mentally willing him to disappear into the sea of other customers.

You watch Quinn walk away, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd like he’s parting the Red Sea. It’s infuriating, really, how someone so damn annoying can also be so… well, hot. There, you admitted it. The guy is hot. Like, "should come with a warning label" hot. But that doesn’t mean you’re about to give him the satisfaction of knowing you think that. No way. Not in this lifetime, or the next, or even if you were reincarnated as a particularly enthusiastic poodle.

Quinn Hughes is the human equivalent of a pop-up ad—persistent, unwanted, and impossible to get rid of without a lot of cursing. Every time you brush him off, he just comes back stronger, like he’s powered by your irritation. And maybe that’s what’s so maddening about him. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he enjoys every second of it.

The problem is, you’re starting to wonder if you enjoy it too.

Nope. Not going there. You are not going to be one of those girls who gets all flustered over a guy just because he’s got a good smile and a credit card that could probably buy out half the bar. You’re stronger than that. You’re resilient. You’re… currently mixing a drink with far more focus than necessary because all you can think about is what it would be like to grab him by the collar of that too-tight shirt and kiss that stupid smirk right off his face.

You’re shaking your head at the absurdity of it all as you pour the next round of shots, hands moving on autopilot. It’s bad enough that Quinn Hughes has invaded your workspace like some kind of hockey-playing parasite, but now he’s wormed his way into your thoughts too.

“Get a grip,” you mutter under your breath, lining up the glasses like they’re little soldiers marching to their doom. Because really, that’s what this is—a battle of wills. A tug-of-war where the prize is your sanity, and you’re losing.

A couple of your regulars wave you over, and you force your focus back to them, slapping on that customer service smile that’s become second nature by now. They’re nice guys, the kind who tip decently and don’t try to flirt with you in that obnoxious, entitled way that some customers do. They’re also blissfully ignorant of the 5’10, 180 pound storm cloud currently hovering over your head, which is exactly how you like it.

But just as you’re starting to enjoy a break from the chaos, you catch sight of him again. He’s leaning against the bar a few feet away, talking to Brock, who seems completely unfazed by the fact that Quinn has probably just sent your blood pressure through the roof.

You steal a glance at Quinn, hoping he won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, you forget how to breathe. It’s ridiculous, really. The guy’s just standing there, doing absolutely nothing, and yet he has this stupid effect on you. Like he’s some kind of gravitational force, pulling you in against your will.

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the drink in front of you like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. But it’s too late. The damage is done. Your brain has already gone down that treacherous path, imagining what it would be like if you gave in just once.

But that’s a dangerous game, and you know it. Because if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. Hell, he’ll probably take the whole damn kilometer. And then where would you be?

Nope. Not happening. Not tonight, not ever.

You’re not sure when exactly it started—the whole Quinn Hughes thing, that is. Maybe it was the first time he sauntered up to the bar, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t. Or maybe it was the time he tipped you a hundred bucks just for bringing him a water, like he was trying to buy your affection. Which, spoiler alert, didn’t work. Or so you’ve been telling yourself.

But you can’t deny it any longer: Quinn Hughes is a problem. A major, five-alarm, get-the-fire-extinguisher kind of problem. Because somewhere along the line, your irritation with him has twisted into something… different. Something dangerous. Something that makes you wonder what it would be like to grab him by that annoyingly perfect jawline and just—

“Hey, Princess, you gonna make me another drink or just stand there daydreaming?”

And there it is. That voice, like smooth whiskey poured over gravel, cutting through your thoughts like a knife. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s him. Of course it’s him. Because Quinn Hughes has a sixth sense for when you’re starting to get a grip on your sanity, and he’s hell-bent on ruining it.

You set down the bottle of vodka you’ve been holding, turning to face him with what you hope is a look of mild disinterest. “Back so soon? Didn’t think you could tear yourself away from your adoring fans.”

Quinn grins, leaning against the bar like he’s got all the time in the world. And maybe he does. After all, what’s a Friday night without irritating the bartender who’s secretly trying to figure out what color your eyes really are because the lighting in here sucks? Not that you’d ever admit to that. “I just couldn’t stay away from you, Princess. You know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted at best. “Again, not my name.”

He taps his fingers on the bar, a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic. “I know. But I like it. It suits you.”

“What, because I won’t roll over and worship the ground you walk on?” you shoot back, crossing your arms. You know you’re playing with fire, but there’s something addictive about sparring with him. Like a game of chicken, except you’re both too stubborn to swerve.

Quinn’s grin widens, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. Damn him. “Exactly. I like a girl with a backbone.”

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get stuck somewhere between your brain and your tongue. Because for some reason, all you can think about is the way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only person in this crowded, chaotic club that matters.

So that’s why you decide to go for it.

“You ever had hate sex, Hughes?”

You can almost see the gears in Quinn’s head grind to a halt at your question. The usual smug smirk falters for a split second, and it’s the most satisfying thing you’ve seen all night. You’ve finally done it—left Quinn Hughes speechless. But the victory is short-lived because, as always, he recovers faster than you can blink.

“Hate sex?” he echoes, his voice dropping an octave, making you question all of your life choices up to this point. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear, and you suddenly realize you’re standing way too close. “Princess, if that’s your idea of a pick-up line, I’ve got to say, I’m intrigued.”

And there it is, that damn smirk back in full force. He’s trying to throw you off, but you refuse to back down. You’ve already started this ridiculous game, so there’s no turning back now.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you reply, your tone as steady as you can make it. “Ever had hate sex?”

He lets out a low chuckle that sends shivers down your spine—not that you’d ever admit it. “I don’t know. Guess we’d have to define ‘hate sex’ first.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your mind racing with all the ways this could go horribly wrong. But damn it, you’re committed now. “I’m pretty sure it’s when you can’t stand someone, but you still want to rip their clothes off.”

Quinn’s eyes darken just a fraction, and you can feel the tension between you both ratchet up to an unbearable level. It’s like the entire club fades away, leaving just the two of you locked in this absurd, heated standoff.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice smooth and infuriatingly calm. “You want to rip my clothes off, Princess?”

You clench your jaw, determined not to let him see how flustered you are. This is Quinn Hughes, the guy who drives you up the wall every single time he walks into this bar. There’s no way in hell you’re about to let him get the upper hand.

So, you do the only thing that seems appropriate. You lean in, so close that your lips are almost brushing his ear, and whisper, “Maybe I just want to shut you up for five minutes.”

“You think you could handle it?” His voice is a low rumble now, and there’s something about the way he says it that’s got your stomach doing somersaults. “Because if we’re going there, I don’t do anything halfway.”

Oh, for the love of— You’re pretty sure your face is betraying you right now, showing just how much his words have affected you, but you can’t let him know that.

Quinn is still watching you, eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place. There’s a challenge there, a dare hanging in the air between you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. Too close. Close enough that you can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead, and those damn blue eyes that seem to see right through your carefully constructed defenses.

For a moment, you consider backing down, playing it off as a joke. But then Quinn would win, and that’s simply not an option. So, you double down, leaning in just a little bit closer, your breath brushing against his skin.

"Handle it? Quinn, I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to." Your voice is steady, but inside, your heart is doing its best impression of a drum solo. This is insane. You’re flirting with Quinn Hughes. Quinn Hughes, the guy who spends his Friday nights at your bar making your life just a little bit more complicated than it needs to be. The guy who seems to take an unholy amount of pleasure in riling you up. The guy who—God help you—makes your pulse race every time he so much as glances in your direction.

Quinn’s lips curve into a slow smile, and you can’t help but notice how annoyingly perfect his teeth are. Of course they are. Everything about him is infuriatingly perfect, from his tousled hair to his broad shoulders that you really shouldn’t be noticing right now. "You’ve got a mouth on you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine that you desperately try to suppress.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure as you stare into Quinn’s infuriatingly perfect face. Seriously, who gave him the right to look this good, especially when he’s being such a smug asshole? You remind yourself that you don’t like him. You don’t. Except maybe you do, a little bit. Okay, a lot. But that’s beside the point.

Quinn’s eyes are locked on yours, and you can practically feel the heat radiating off him. It’s like standing too close to a bonfire—one wrong move, and you’re going to get burned. But damn it, you’re not backing down. Not when he’s looking at you like that, like he’s just waiting for you to slip up so he can swoop in and… do what, exactly? You’re not even sure anymore. And that’s the most dangerous part.

“Someone’s gotta put you in your place, Hughes,” you manage to say, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intended. You’re aiming for sassy, but it’s hard to pull off when your heart is practically doing backflips in your chest.

His smile widens, and you want to slap it right off his face, but also—God help you—maybe kiss it off too. “Is that so?” he asks, voice dripping with amusement. “And you think you’re the one to do it?”

Oh, he’s good. He’s really good. And damn it, you walked right into his trap, didn’t you? Because now you’ve got to follow through, or else he’s going to lord this over you for the rest of eternity.

But before you can figure out a clever retort, Quinn’s gaze flicks past you, scanning the crowded bar. When he looks back at you, there’s something new in his eyes—something that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“You know,” he says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “this place is a little too crowded for what I have in mind.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. He’s not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting, is he? Because if he is, you’re in way over your head. And yet… there’s a tiny, traitorous part of you that’s intrigued. More than intrigued. You want to know what he has in mind, even though every logical part of your brain is screaming at you to abort mission and run for the hills.

You tilt your head, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “And what exactly do you have in mind, Hughes?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn leans in closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. “Somewhere private,” he murmurs, “Where we can… talk.”

“Talk,” you repeat, your tone dripping with skepticism. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

He chuckles softly, and the sound sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

Oh, you do. You’ve got a lot of ideas, most of them involving doing things to Quinn Hughes that would definitely not fall under the category of “talking.” But you can’t just give in, can you? That would be too easy, and Quinn would never let you live it down.

But then again… maybe it’s time to stop overthinking things. Maybe it’s time to let go, just this once, and see where this crazy, ridiculous, probably-terrible idea takes you.

“Fine,” you say, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds. “Let’s go.”

Quinn’s eyes light up with something that looks a lot like victory, but you’re not about to let him have the upper hand. Not entirely, anyway.

“Lead the way, Princess,” he says, his voice a low purr that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

You roll your eyes—because of course you do—but there’s no denying the excitement buzzing just beneath the surface. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into, but one thing’s for sure: it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

With one last glance at the bar, you turn on your heel and start making your way through the crowd, Quinn hot on your heels. You can feel the tension between you both, crackling like static electricity, and it’s taking everything in you not to turn around and grab him by that stupidly perfect jawline right then and there.

You slip through a side door that leads to a narrow hallway, the noise from the bar muffled by the heavy walls. The air is cooler here, the dim lighting casting long shadows that dance along the worn carpet. You can feel Quinn’s presence behind you, close enough that you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Where are we going?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that makes your stomach flip.

“Storage closet,” you say, not even sure where the idea came from, but it’s out now, and there’s no taking it back. You know the staff keeps some of the extra supplies in a small room down the hall, and it’s as good a place as any to… well, whatever this is.

Quinn’s chuckle is dark and throaty, sending another shiver down your spine. “Kinky,” he murmurs, but you can hear the approval in his tone.

You reach the door and push it open, revealing a small, dimly lit room lined with shelves full of bottles and boxes. It’s cramped, barely enough room for the two of you, but that’s probably a good thing. The last thing you need is space to think about what you’re doing, because if you stop to think, you might just lose your nerve.

Quinn steps in behind you, closing the door with a soft click. The sound echoes in the quiet space, amplifying the tension that’s been simmering between you both all night.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You just stand there, staring at each other, the air thick with unspoken challenges and barely restrained desire. And then, like a rubber band snapping, the tension breaks.

You’re not even sure who moves first—maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you—but suddenly you’re pressed up against the shelves, Quinn’s body crowding into yours, his hands bracing on either side of your head as his lips crash onto yours

It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s every bit as intense and heated as the tension that’s been simmering between you from the moment you met. His lips crash against yours with a force that sends your head spinning, and for a moment, all you can do is cling to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kiss him back just as fiercely.

This is no sweet, romantic moment. This is raw, unfiltered desire, born from all the frustration and irritation that’s been building between you two for so long. It’s everything you never thought you’d want, and yet here you are, giving in to it completely.

Quinn’s hands are on you now, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. And maybe he can’t. Maybe you can’t either. All you know is that this is happening, and there’s no stopping it.

“Damn it, Hughes,” you murmur against his mouth, trying to inject some venom into your words, but it comes out more like a plea. You can feel his smirk, the arrogant bastard. He knows he’s got you, and it only makes you want to kiss him harder.

Or punch him.

Maybe both.

“Problem?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. His lips are slightly swollen, his hair disheveled from your hands, and he looks annoyingly good like this. All messy and untamed, like you’ve undone him somehow, when you know it’s the other way around.

You want to tell him to shut up, to stop looking at you like that, like you’re some puzzle he’s close to solving. But you’re too breathless, too overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. So instead, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him back down to you, your lips crashing together again in a bruising kiss.

He groans into your mouth, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers skimming the heated skin of your back. You shiver at the contact, hating how good it feels, hating that he knows it too. You can feel his smugness in every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

And yet, you don’t stop him.

Because you’re just as guilty.

You’ve been wanting this—wanting him—even though you’ve been denying it, pushing it away, convincing yourself that you despise him. But the truth is, that hatred has always been laced with something else. Something darker, more dangerous. Something you’re only now beginning to understand.

It’s infuriating.

It’s intoxicating.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mutter against his lips, your voice tinged with frustration as you nip at his lower lip. You want to hurt him, just a little, to remind yourself that you’re still in control, that this isn’t just him getting what he wants. But when he groans in response, his hands tightening their grip on your hips, you realize that maybe you’re not as in control as you thought.

“You say that like you don’t love it,” he replies, his voice husky as he trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck. Your breath hitches when he finds that sensitive spot just below your ear, the one that makes your knees go weak. He’s too good at this. Too good at getting under your skin.

You don’t want to enjoy this. You really don’t. But your body isn’t exactly cooperating, and the traitorous warmth pooling in your stomach isn’t something you can ignore. It’s maddening how much you want this, even as every logical part of your brain screams that this is a terrible, horrible, no-good idea.

But logic be damned, because the way Quinn’s lips are moving against your skin is making it very hard to care about consequences.

“You’re such a smug bastard,” you mutter, trying to inject some bite into your words, but they come out breathy, almost like a sigh. Ugh. Could you be any more pathetic?

Quinn chuckles against your neck, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked that about me,” he murmurs, his voice thick. His hands slide up under your shirt, fingers skimming over your ribs, making you gasp. “Or at least, you like it enough to let me do this.”

He’s right, and that just pisses you off even more. You do like it—hate it, love it, whatever it is, you’re feeling it with every nerve in your body. You can feel his smirk against your skin, and it only fuels the fire inside you.

You yank at his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can meet his eyes, which are dark and stormy with desire. “Don’t get cocky, Hughes,” you warn, even though you know it’s a losing battle. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

He raises an eyebrow, that damn smirk still plastered on his stupidly perfect face. “You keep telling yourself that,” he says, his voice low and rough. “But we both know you’re full of shit.”

“Full of shit?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him, trying to keep your wits about you even as his hands roam over your body. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who’s all talk and no—”

Quinn’s lips are on yours again before you can finish the sentence, cutting off your words with a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than the last one. It’s like he’s determined to prove you wrong, to make you eat your words, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s succeeding.

But you’re not about to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that. Not yet, anyway.

You push back against him, shoving at his chest just enough to create some distance, even though your body is screaming at you to do the opposite. His eyes flash with surprise, and you smirk up at him, a little breathless but still in the game.

“Easy there, Hughes,” you murmur, your voice laced with false bravado. “I didn’t say you could take control.”

Quinn arches an eyebrow, his lips quirking up into that infuriatingly smug smile that makes you want to both slap him and drag him closer. “Oh? I must have missed the memo where you were the one calling the shots.”

You grit your teeth, not entirely sure whether you want to punch him or kiss him again. Maybe both, but that would just be giving him the upper hand. Instead, you decide to hit him where it hurts—his ego.

“Please,” you scoff, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “You’ve been in my palm since the moment we met. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He lets out a low, amused chuckle, his breath warm against your neck. “Is that what you tell yourself when you’re fantasizing about me at night?”

Your stomach flips at his words, but you refuse to let him see the effect he’s having on you. Instead, you tilt your head, letting your lips ghost over the shell of his ear as you whisper, “In your dreams, Hughes.”

But as much as you’re trying to play it cool, you can’t deny the electric tension between you both. It’s like the air is crackling with it, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. All you can focus on is Quinn—his hands, his lips, his damn voice that keeps pulling you deeper into this mess.

His hand slides down your side, settling on your hip, and your breath catches when he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space. You can feel every inch of him, the solid warmth of his body, the way he’s holding you like he doesn’t want to let go. And maybe he doesn’t. Maybe you don’t either.

Quinn’s lips are back on yours, but this time, it’s slower, more deliberate. Like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time, driving you absolutely crazy with how good it feels. You’re so wrapped up in it, in him, that you almost don’t notice the way his hands are working on rolling up your shirt until it’s halfway up.

You pull back, just enough to look up at him with narrowed eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He gives you a look that’s all innocence, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands keep moving, sliding under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin. “Just making sure you’re comfortable,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Comfortable?” you repeat, your voice coming out a little higher than you intended as his hands roam over your bare skin. “You think this is making me comfortable?”

Quinn leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “No, but it’s making you hot, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitches, and damn him, he’s right. He’s so infuriatingly right. But you’re not about to admit that. Instead, you try to muster up some semblance of defiance, even though you can feel your resolve crumbling with every touch, every heated look he throws your way.

“You wish,” you manage to say, but the words lack the venom you were aiming for. Instead, they come out breathy, almost like a plea, and you hate how much that turns you on.

Quinn grins, and it’s a wicked, knowing grin that makes your stomach twist in the most deliciously infuriating way. “I don’t have to wish,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Before you can respond—before you can even think of a comeback—he’s kissing you again, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that makes your head spin. You’re drowning in him, in the heat, the intensity of it all, and for a moment, you wonder if you’re going to lose yourself completely.

But then Quinn’s hands are on your hips, lifting you up onto the shelves, and you gasp at the sudden movement. You grab onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it hard to remember why this is such a bad idea.

“Quinn,” you murmur, trying to sound like you’re in control, like you’re not about to fall apart at the seams. But your voice betrays you, coming out shaky, uncertain, and Quinn hears it. Of course he does.

His hands slide up your thighs, fingers teasing the edge of your shorts, and you can’t help the way your breath hitches, the way your body arches toward him, desperate for more. Damn it, you shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t want him—but there’s no denying it now.

“You can stop this anytime you want,” Quinn whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalizing. “Just say the word.”

But you don’t say anything. Because you can’t. You don’t want to stop, not when his hands are on you, not when his lips are trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Not when every nerve in your body is screaming at you to let go, to give in to this insane, reckless desire.

Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him with everything you’ve got, trying to show him that you’re not backing down, that you’re just as in this as he is. Maybe more.

Quinn groans against your lips, and you can feel the way his body tenses, the way his hands tighten their grip on your thighs. It’s intoxicating, the power you have over him, the way you can make him unravel with just a kiss, a touch.

But then his hands are slipping under your shorts, and your breath catches in your throat. It’s happening, it’s really happening, and suddenly, you’re not sure if you’re ready for this. If you can handle what comes next.

“Quinn,” you murmur, trying to sound like you’re in control, like you’re not about to lose it completely. But he’s not listening, or maybe he is, and he just doesn’t care, because his hands are still moving, still exploring, and you’re melting under his touch.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and the look in his eyes is enough to make your stomach flip. It’s dark, intense, full of heat—and, damn it, he’s giving you that smug smile again, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless, a contrast to the arrogant tilt of his lips. “You good?”

Good? Is that a joke? You’re anything but good right now. Your heart is racing, your mind is spinning, and your body—well, your body is betraying you in every way possible, pressing closer to him, silently begging for more.

“I fucking hate you,” you manage to choke out, though the words feel flimsy, a pathetic attempt at maintaining some semblance of control. Quinn’s eyes narrow slightly, and you know he doesn’t believe you for a second. But instead of calling you out on it, he leans in, his lips brushing against your jawline as he murmurs, “Then why are you so fucking wet?” He punctuates the words by brushing his fingers against the damp fabric of your underwear.

Your brain short-circuits at his words. Like, did he really just—? You’re torn between the urge to slap that smug look off his face and the overwhelming desire to pull him closer, consequences be damned. The nerve of this guy, thinking he can just—

But then his fingers move, and every coherent thought you had goes flying out the window. A gasp escapes your lips, and you curse yourself for giving him the satisfaction, but, damn it, how are you supposed to keep your wits about you when his hands are doing that?

Quinn’s watching you, his eyes dark with amusement and something much more primal. “What’s the matter?” he teases, his voice a low rumble.

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to muster up some sort of retort, but all that comes out is a breathy, “Shut up,” which only makes his smirk widen. God, you want to wipe that grin off his face so badly, but every time you think you’re about to regain control, he does something that completely derails you.

Like now, for instance, when his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your underwear, and your hips jerk forward entirely of their own accord. Quinn’s chuckle is low and throaty, and you feel the vibrations of it against your neck as he nips at your skin, leaving a trail of barely-there bites that make your pulse race.

“Shutting up doesn’t seem like your style,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver. “But I think I can find a way to keep you quiet.”

You don’t get a chance to ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean because his hand finally dips lower, and suddenly, you’re not sure whether you want to moan or curse him out. Your body makes the decision for you, your head falling back against the shelf as a breathless moan escapes your lips, and you feel Quinn’s grin widen against your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking—” Your words get caught in your throat as he moves his fingers just right, and the sound that comes out of you is more of a whimper than anything else. It’s humiliating, really, how easily he’s reducing you to this—a writhing, desperate mess—and the bastard knows it.

“Sensitive, are we?” Quinn’s voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a huskiness to it now, a slight hitch in his breath that tells you he’s just as affected by this as you are, even if he’s better at hiding it. “That’s cute.”

“Cute?” you manage to gasp, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance, even as your body betrays you by arching into his touch. “I’ll show you—” Your words trail off into a moan as he circles his fingers just right, and suddenly, the only thing you want to show him is how quickly you can come undone if he keeps this up.

You're about to fire back with something scathing, something that’ll put Quinn in his place, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp as his fingers work a little faster, a little rougher, hitting that spot that has your entire body going slack against the shelves. God, if anyone walked in right now, they'd have one hell of a show.

"Something you wanted to say?" Quinn’s voice is thick with that damn arrogance, but there's a slight edge to it now, like he's barely holding it together himself. Good, you think. If you’re going down, you’re taking him with you.

"Y-you're…" You try to form a sentence, anything to wipe that smug grin off his face, but the words get tangled in your throat as Quinn’s other hand slides up your thigh, his touch hot and demanding. "You're such a…"

He smirks, his lips hovering just over yours, so close you can feel the heat of his breath. "Go on, sweetheart. I'm dying to know."

"Oh, fuck off," you mutter, but your voice lacks any real bite, especially when his fingers dip lower, making your hips jerk forward involuntarily. "Quinn…"

He pauses, his lips still pressed to your jaw, and for a moment, you think maybe—just maybe—he’s going to stop, give you a chance to catch your breath, to regain some semblance of control. But then he moves again, his fingers slipping past your last shred of dignity, and you let out a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a curse.

"That’s what I thought," Quinn whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I knew you couldn't keep that tough act up forever."

"Screw you," you hiss, but your words are cut off by another sharp gasp as Quinn’s thumb brushes over a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh, God…"

"Already there," he murmurs, his lips finding that spot just below your ear that makes your knees go weak. He presses a kiss there, soft and maddeningly slow, before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and you can see the barely-contained hunger in them. It sends a thrill of both fear and excitement racing through you.

"Quinn, I swear, I’m gonna—" you gasp as his fingers continue their relentless assault, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Or maybe I'll just—"

"Just what?" he presses, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to finish the sentence. "Come all over my fingers? Because that’s what you’re about to do, isn’t it?"

There’s a part of you—the sensible, rational part—that’s still trying to cling to some semblance of control, some dignity. But that part is losing, rapidly being overpowered by the heat pooling in your stomach and the way Quinn’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he wants in the entire world.

For a moment, you consider making some sort of last-ditch effort to regain control, to pull away and regain your breath. But then Quinn’s thumb brushes over that spot again, and all thoughts of self-control go out the window. Instead, a moan slips past your lips—loud and unrestrained, filling the tiny storage closet with a sound that’s undeniably needy.

Quinn’s smirk widens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction, and damn it, he’s enjoying this way too much. “That’s right,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “You’re gonna come for me, yeah? Or do you want my cock instead?”

Your brain is short-circuiting, struggling to keep up with the intensity of the moment. The idea of him inside you, combined with the way he’s touching you, is almost too much to bear. You’re on the verge of losing it, and every part of you is screaming for release.

Finally, you manage a breathless, “Fuck it,” and let your hands wander lower, fumbling with his belt, your body arching against his in a desperate plea for more. You don’t care about the consequences, the logical part of your brain completely overridden by the burning need coursing through you.

“I swear, if we ever make it out of this closet,” you gasp, your fingers struggling with the stubborn belt buckle, “I’m going to have a hard time looking you in the eye.”

Quinn chuckles, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But right now, I think your focus should be on something else.”

You manage to loosen his belt, your hands shaking with anticipation. The urgency of the moment makes every touch and every breath more intense. “And what would that be?” you retort, trying to keep some semblance of your usual sarcasm. It’s hard, though, when his fingers are still doing deliciously wicked things to you.

Quinn’s fingers trace teasing circles, making your breath hitch and your body squirm against him. “Oh, I don’t know,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your ear. “Maybe on getting me out of these pants before I lose my patience.”

“Geez, Hughes, such a gentleman,” you manage, your voice breathless as you finally get his pants undone. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. It’s a heady feeling, and it’s only adding to the feverish heat between you.

You push his pants down just enough, and as you finally free his hard length, you’re met with the unmistakable evidence of his own need. The sight makes you gasp, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

Quinn groans into your mouth when you reach inside his jeans, his hips jerking forward as if seeking more contact, more friction. You’re both teetering on the edge now, the line between control and complete surrender blurred beyond recognition. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and you’re not sure if you want to keep pushing him or if you just want to let go and fall into the abyss together.

“God, you drive me fucking crazy,” Quinn breathes against your lips, his voice rough with need, and there’s a moment—a brief, fleeting moment—where you think you see something more in his eyes. Something deeper than just desire, something that sends a jolt of fear straight to your heart. But then his hands are on you again, pulling you closer, and whatever that look was, it’s gone, replaced by the raw, primal hunger that’s been simmering between you from the start.

You shudder as he grips your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with just enough force to make you gasp. You can feel him, hot and hard against your palm, and it’s taking everything in you not to just give in, to let him take what you both so clearly want. But there’s still that stubborn part of you, the part that refuses to let him have the upper hand, that wants to make him beg, make him come undone for you.

“Say please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

Quinn freezes, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours, and for a moment, you think you’ve pushed him too far, that he’s going to pull back and leave you hanging on the edge of oblivion. But then a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Please?” he echoes, his tone dripping with arrogance, as if the very idea of him begging is laughable. “Sweetheart, I don’t beg.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you stroke him slowly, deliberately teasing, watching with satisfaction as his breath hitches, his bravado faltering ever so slightly. “No?” you murmur, leaning in to nip at his bottom lip, your voice low and taunting. “You sure about that?”

Quinn’s eyes darken, and for a split second, you think you’ve got him—that you’ve managed to gain the upper hand. But then he’s moving, faster than you can react, pinning your wrists behind your back with one hand while the other yanks your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in a way that sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You want to play games?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. “Fine. But I don’t play fair.”

Before you can respond, before you can even think to respond, he’s pressing into you, his body solid and unyielding, and all coherent thought flies out of your head as he finally, finally gives you what you’ve both been craving.

The world tilts on its axis as he thrusts into you, hard and deep, and you’re not sure if the sound that escapes your lips is a moan or a sob or something in between. All you know is that you’re completely, utterly lost in him—in the way he’s filling you, stretching you, driving you to the brink of madness with every rough, relentless movement.

Quinn’s breath is ragged against your ear, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. You’re so close, so fucking close, and it’s taking everything in you not to just let go, to give in to the blinding pleasure that’s consuming you from the inside out.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Quinn groans, his voice strained, and there’s something raw, almost vulnerable in the way he says it, something that makes your heart stutter in your chest. “I’ve been imagining this from the first moment I walked in here.”

Your hands are still pinned behind your back, your body arched against the shelves, completely at Quinn’s mercy. And damn it, he knows it. He knows exactly how to push you to the brink, how to make you lose every ounce of control you thought you had. His movements are powerful, purposeful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, until you’re teetering on the brink of oblivion.

“Quinn—” You gasp out his name, your voice shaking with the intensity of it all, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through you like a living thing. His grip on your wrists tightens, the roughness of his touch sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through you.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your ear, his breath hot and ragged, and there’s something possessive, almost desperate, in his voice that makes your heart race even faster. “You’re fucking mine.”

And you’re so damn close, so close to falling apart entirely. But there’s still that stubborn part of you, the part that refuses to give in, to let him have all the control. So, you tighten around him, just enough to pull a sharp, choked-off groan from his throat, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as his rhythm falters, just for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re—” Quinn’s voice is hoarse, strained, as if he’s holding onto the last shreds of his control by a thread, and it sends a thrill through you to know that you’re the one doing this to him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe out, trying to sound cocky despite the tremble in your voice. “Maybe you should—”

But you don’t get to finish the thought, because Quinn shifts his angle just slightly, and suddenly, he’s hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, that has your back arching off the shelves and a cry escaping your lips before you can stop it.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the triumph. He’s found your weakness, and he’s going to exploit it for all it’s worth. “Right there, yeah?”

All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out again as he starts to focus all his attention on that one spot, his movements growing more precise, more deliberate. He’s relentless, driving you closer and closer to the brink, and you can feel yourself starting to unravel, to lose the tenuous grip you have on your composure.

“Quinn, I—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, don’t even know if you can say anything at all with the way your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps.

Quinn’s chuckle against your ear is low and dark, the sound a tantalizing contrast to the rough, punishing way he’s moving inside you. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it over the sound of you moaning my name.”

The arrogance in his voice is infuriating, but it’s also the last thing on your mind right now. Every thrust he gives you is like a jolt to your system, making it harder to stay focused, harder to cling to whatever shreds of control you have left. Your head is spinning, and you’re almost grateful for the way his body is pressed against yours, anchoring you in a whirlwind of pleasure.

You let out a breathless laugh, even as your body betrays you by arching into him. “You’re insufferable,” you manage to gasp out, trying to hold onto some semblance of your usual bravado. “And you’re really bad at this whole ‘being a gentleman’ thing.”

“Is that so?” Quinn’s voice is a low purr, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep telling me how much you hate me. It makes this so much better.”

You roll your eyes, even as a moan escapes your lips, the sound muffled by the way you bite down on your bottom lip. “You’re such a jerk,” you manage to say, though your voice is shaky and breathless, betraying just how much he’s affecting you.

“Yeah?” Quinn’s breath is hot against your neck, and you feel the brush of his lips against your skin, sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. “That’s not what your body’s telling me, sweetheart.”

You grit your teeth, determined not to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much he’s getting to you. But it’s a losing battle, and you both know it. Especially when he starts moving faster, his pace relentless as he drives into you with a force that has your entire body trembling.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your fingers digging into the shelves as you struggle to stay upright. “You’re—” Your words are cut off by a sharp cry as he angles his hips just right, hitting that spot inside you again that has your vision going white around the edges.

You don’t have time to think, don’t have time to process the fact that you’re completely, utterly exposed in a storage closet with a man who has made a sport out of driving you insane. All you can do is feel—every touch, every thrust, every ragged breath against your ear is pushing you closer to the edge, closer to losing the last of your control.

“God, you’re so… fucking… cocky,” you manage to choke out between gasps, your voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and desire. “It’s disgusting.”

“Mm-mhm,” Quinn’s voice is a low growl, his words vibrating against your neck as his teeth graze the sensitive skin there. “And you’re just an annoying brat who brushes me off every time I say something nice. But I figured it out, you just wanted me to rail all that attitude out of you.”

You try to respond, to counter his taunts with some biting retort, but all that comes out is a breathless moan as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more urgent. “Fuck, Quinn,” you gasp, trying to hold onto the last remnants of your control. “You’re—”

He interrupts you with a sharp, possessive growl. “I’m what? Don’t hold back now. Tell me how good it feels.”

Your head is spinning, your thoughts a jumbled mess of desire and frustration. “You’re a complete—” Another moan escapes you as Quinn hits that spot inside you again, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. “A complete… asshole,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling.

“And you love it,” Quinn’s voice is a triumphant whisper against your ear. “You love every second of this. Don’t you?”

You can’t even respond, the pleasure overwhelming you to the point where you’re just barely able to hold onto the edge of sanity. All you can do is nod, your body arching into him, your hands still pinned behind your back, completely at his mercy.

“You’re so close,” Quinn murmurs, his voice low and rough. “So fucking close. I can feel it. And I’m going to make sure you get there. I promise.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you feel yourself starting to unravel, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Quinn’s movements are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the brink, until you’re on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into oblivion.

“Quinn, I—” You try to speak, but the words are lost in a cry as he thrusts into you with a force that has your vision going white around the edges.

Quinn’s grip on your hips tightens, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. “Come for me,” he growls, his breath hot and urgent. “Let go. Give it to me.”

And with those words, you shatter, your body convulsing with a pleasure so intense that it’s almost painful. You cry out his name, your voice echoing through the storage closet as you come apart, your entire world dissolving into a blur of sensation and release.

Quinn follows close behind, his movements growing erratic as he drives into you with one final, powerful thrust. You can feel his release inside you, hot and thick, and it sends a shiver through your entire body. He groans against your ear, his breath ragged and heavy, and you can feel the tension in his body as he finally, finally finds his own release.

The two of you are left panting in the aftermath, your bodies pressed together in the confined space of the storage closet. Quinn’s breath is hot against your ear, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your back.

“God,” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper. “That was… intense.”

You manage a shaky laugh, trying to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you agree, your voice still trembling. “That’s one way to put it. Now, get off of me. I have to get back to work.”

#vancouver canucks #quinn hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #qh43 #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #qh43 x Reader

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daceydeath · 2 months

Text

I Want to Watch

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader x San Word Count: 2.5K Genre: Pure Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities

AN: This idea came from writing a short one shot called 4:15 pm so it mentions the events of that but is not strictly related.

Wooyoung has had a brilliant idea but he is yet to actually mention it to anyone other than San.

Wooyoung had teased you relentlessly about it for almost three weeks before you had lost your cool and snapped at him that he should just ask San to join you then if it was that important to him to watch his best friend fuck you. Funnily enough that seemed to work and he dropped the subject all together for another full month until he began to invite you round for dates when the others were home or when they were likely to be coming home. Teasing you about how he could just leave the door unlocked and call Hongjoong in to let him watch or that he bet you would look so hot with Jongho's cock in your mouth while he fucked you, each time getting you more receptive to his idea of his friends watching you, it started to actually turn you on. He knew you had a tiny bit of an exhibition kink, you never minded if they overheard you, but he never actually let the members see you or even hear you before the time San had discovered you and you had responded to him purposely toying with San more than he had anticipated.

"Woo what movie did you want to watch?" you called from the couch flipping through the streaming service to find something neither of you had watched. You could hear him muttering from the kitchen but you couldn't make out anything he said.

"Woo? Are you even listening to me?" You raised your eyebrows at him and watched him pace another length of the kitchen, phone in his hand "What's wrong?". He stopped to look at you, opening and closing his mouth a few times before huffing and walking over to sit beside you and pull you closer to him, his lips on your temple kissing you lightly.

"I may have done something that you may get mad about but I'm not sure yet, but in my defense it is a brilliant thing" he admitted letting you see how nervous he actually was.

"What have you done?" you asked, dryly knowing it could be anything from buying you a stupidly oversized plushie, a designer bag or ordering pizza. His ability to answer was cut off by a knock on the apartment door making you quickly assume it was probably closer to take out than anything more incorrigible. He let go of you to go answer and came back with a slightly flushed looking San which just confused you.

"Hey Sannie" you smiled furrowing your eyebrows "How are you?"

"I'm good" San nodded looking between you and Wooyoung "Am I early? You said come by at 9 Woo".

"So the thing is..." Wooyoung started his cheeks turning dark pink as he struggled to get the words out making you even more confused "You remember how you.... No um. Give me a second" he turned back to San pushing him into the entrance alcove and out of your line of sight. Although you could hear hushed but slightly frantic whispered bickering between the two of them.

"Man if you haven't asked her we can just make it another time, I'm not going to make her feel like she's being pushed" San muttered sounding worried.

"She will hear you moron" Wooyoung hissed "Also if you're here or not I'm not forcing her you dickhead".

"I didn't say you were I just don't want her feeling pressured that would be shitty" San sighed annoyed.

"Or you could both just talk like normal people since I can hear you both and am so confused right now" You interrupted loudly making them both sheepishly peer around to corner to look at you. "What is going on? Is this some kind of intervention that you two are trying to pull?".

"No, absolutely not" San shook his head innocently even though you were pretty sure he was far from innocent in this whole debacle.

"Then what is going on you're really starting to piss me off" you frowned looking between them and wondering when someone would explain the cryptic shit they were bickering about.

"Shit, baby it's nothing bad I promise" Wooyoung panicked coming back over to the couch with San hot on his heels "You remember when we were at that video shoot and you and I snuck off and..."

"and everyone was looking for you while you were too horny to keep your hands off me and just had to fuck me in an empty office? Yeah I remember I was there" you smirked watching both of their ears turn red and San look up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

"Yeah, do you remember that San found us and what I said?" he continued looking a little braver as you pieced together what he was saying.

"You want to have a threesome" you guessed, stopping him from dragging it out further, a wave of heat rushing straight to your core.

"Well I actually wanted to start off with him but eventually invite the others in too" he smirked watching your eyes widen "not all at once though".

"You want me to have sex with all of your members? all 7 of them?" you swallowed hard your embarrassment now showing as you felt your own cheeks burning at the reaction you were having to the idea of it.

"Yeah maybe? I wanted them to watch me fuck you then I wanted to watch them fuck you" he continued getting bolder with each word his grin getting larger as he saw how well you were responding to the idea.

"So you want to watch me with San?" you repeated, pressing your thighs together slightly to relieve the throb that was beginning to spread from your core. Biting your lip you tore your eyes from your boyfriends to look as his best friend who was trying to remain looking as neutral as possible. "Is that what you want, San?".

"Absolutely" San uttered without thinking, only to slap his hand over his mouth cutely after realizing what he had done, making you smile shyly at him.

"You going to keep being shy or are you going to kiss her?" Wooyoung teased his friend, his eyes already turning darker as he looked at you as if you were a meal and he was starving to death.

"She hasn't agreed yet, Woo calm down" San smacked him on the shoulder before moving to sit beside you on the couch "Is this what you want princess?" he asked huskily, his voice getting so much lower than you had ever heard it, it was making your brain short circuit. You licked your lips looking at him for a moment trying to clear the fog that was already in your brain before nodding.

"I need words princess" he smirked, lifting your chin to stare into your eyes looking at you as intensely as Wooyoung had been making you feel a little shy at how wet he was making you without him even touching you.

"Please Sannie" you whispered breathily before San crashed his lips into yours. Kissing San was completely different to kissing Woo. You were so used to Wooyoung's deep, messy and needy kisses that San's sensual lingering ones made you gasp his plush lips were gentle against yours almost tentative as he let you initiate any increase in intensity only taking back control when you let a quiet moan pass into his mouth driving him to pull you into his lap to straddle his hard thighs.

"Didn't expect you to be so desperate to fuck San baby" Woo rasped his voice tight as he watched to make out with his best friend. You whined pressing yourself against the bulge that was growing in San's sweatpants enjoying the pressure against your pussy. “Look how needy you are, like I never take care of you huh?”.

San let his hands map your curves, eventually coming to rest on your arse squeezing it firmly as he encouraged you to grind on him a little bit. You were already feeling more aroused than you had any right to be, making out with your boyfriend's best friend should not get you as impossibly wet as you were but you couldn’t stop the needy gasps and moans leaving your mouth. San planted his feet harder against the floor gripping you tighter as he lifted you, walking you to Wooyoung’s bedroom where he carefully placed you on the bed on your back pressing soft kisses to your jaw and neck before peeling down your sweats to get better access to you.

“Shit” San groaned, his eyes locked on the wetness that had seeped into your underwear staining the white lace and making it virtually see through. Not being able to help yourself you felt yourself preen under the intensity of his stare biting your lip to get him to move back to you. His large hands ghosted up the skin of your thighs passing your hips and continuing up your sides so he could help you out of your shirt before connecting his lips back to yours

“Fuck baby” Woo groaned, smirking at the scene from the door “a few kisses and you turn into a complete whore”.

You opened your mouth to say something but your retort died in your throat and was replaced by a moan and San locked his lips around one of your nippled scraping the lace against your sensitive bud with his teeth, one of your hands flying out to steady yourself and the other grabbing hold of his hair.

“Sannie” you gasped feeling him smile against your breast, he continued covering your body with lingering kisses working his way down to your core, making you sigh and groan while he explored. “Shit Sannie”.

Stopping his mapping of your body he stood to quickly strip himself of his clothes leaving him in boxers that left little to the imagination, his thick cock straining against the fabric making your mouth water.

“Don’t torture the poor slut man” Woo ordered his voice thick with arousal as he sat at the bottom of the bed his eyes locked on you.

“Yes Sir” San grinned, pulling off his boxers and manhandling you back into his lap, tearing the lace that was left covering you from your hips with one harsh tug.

“Fuck off San I liked that set” Woo grumbled halfheartedly while San stoked his fingers between your folds making you mewl and arch into him searching for more, you couldn’t see your boyfriends face but from the mischievous grin that crossed San’s face and the sound of annoyance that left Wooyoung’s lips San was not meant to be toying with you this much. Sliding two fingers inside you making you whine, San couldn’t help the moan that rumbled through his chest into yours, his finger sliding in so easily that you should have been embarrassed.

“Such a wet little pussy” he whispered kissing your lips again while you fucked yourself on his fingers with an air of desperation, his low chuckled making you want more as he pulled his fingers back out of you with and obscene squelch before shoving them in his mouth.

“Hey!” Woo protested but you couldn’t concentrate on his words you just needed something, anything “We talk about this”

“Sannie, please, need your cock” you murmured weakly, your body burning for him in a way you had never felt.

“Course princess” he smirked, grabbing his length to line himself up with your entrance before letting you sink down on him.

“Such a desperate little whore begging for another man’s cock, you need that much cock that just mine isn’t enough?” Wooyoung grunted making you whimper as you felt your walls stretching around San’s dick until your hips met his. Rolling your hips experimentally you felt like you were being split in half by how much thicker he was than what you were used to, your head fell forward against his shoulder as you let yourself adjust.

“Give the pathetic slut what she wants, San” Woo continued, his voice more strained the longer he watched. Resting his hands on your hips almost gently San helped you begin to grind against him his breathing getting heavier as your confidence grew until you began bouncing on him your tits brushing against his chest with each movement.

“Fuck don’t want to be rough with you” San choked out as he tried to not snap his hips up to meet your pace.

“Please Sannie, I need it, please fuck me, please” you begged your eyes glassy as you met his eyes.

“Begging like a needy whore huh? Is San’s cock that good?” Wooyoung mocked harshly.

“I got you princess” San muttered gently before grabbing your hips bruisingly and snapping his hips up into you sharply making you cry out your head falling back and your mouth open letting him use you like you needed so intensely. San’s lips moved you your neck kissing and nibbling your sensitive skin as he pounded you into a pleasurable oblivion

“Aww is my little baby drunk on cock?” Wooyoung asked sweetly moving to claim your lips after not touching you for so long, lolling your head to the side you could see he hadn’t been able to control himself his cock out of his pants as his tugged at it in time with San’s thrusts and he fucked you. “Let him fuck you full yeah baby? You gonna let another man fill you with his cum? Let him breed you in front of me?”. The moan that fell from your lips was pornographic as another wave of arousal began soaking San’s length and practically dripping onto his balls.

“Fuck Woo she loved that” San grunted feeling your walls begin to flutter around him as your orgasm drew nearer.

“You going to let San claim you baby? Gonna let him knock you up like a little needy whore” Wooyoung knew you were close from the little gasps that you let out between your moans, each one getting shorter until you would explode.

“Ah…ngh…Sannie” you cried as you came so hard you could barely keep yourself upright, San moving one hand to hold you against him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasim and into the start of your next one.

“Fuck princess” he grunted roughly his cock stiffening inside you before painting your walls with thick ropes of his seed. His hips slowed until you were both still you resting against his bare chest both panting for air.

That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” Wooyoung swallowed hard while San moved you so you could at least see your boyfriend who had managed to finish all on his own “Never cum untouched before”. You could feel San breathlessly chuckle as you realized that you were still connected, his dick softening inside your walls.

“That was....fuck” San mumbled, still not attempting to move you off of him.

“We are doing this again” Woo grinned, moving so he could watch San’s seed drip from your stretched entrance before eventually helping to move you onto the bed so they could clean you up.

AN: Thank you for reading my lovelies. I adore you so much and your likes, reblogs and comments warm my half dead little heart xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold

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