#I REMEMBER WHY I BOUGHT THEM SO OFTEN

[fandomkingsblog]

energy drinks either make me act like a gremlin human on adrenaline or like a drugged sleepy bastard

today it is gremlin human on adrenaline-

[13eyond13]

.

[noxtivagus]

i LOVE stormblood (listening to some of the ost rn <3 i love all the expansions so very much. they all mean a lot to me <3)

[simpjaes]

HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 

 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 

“Jake, again?” 

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 

The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 

 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob. 

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

[madamsommed]

I was just thinking about Bakugou in the Doctor's office with his mother and the doctor suddenly asks how often he has sex.

SUGGESTIVE? (there's no smut but still)

Bakugou doesn't like doctors at all. Whether it's the ones at the hospital or the general practitioners. He finds them obnoxious and nosey. The only reason he sees them is when he's been hurt in battle or when his loving mother forces him to go.

"Why are we here?" Katsuki groans slouching arms folded in the passenger seat of the nice car he bought for his mom.

"Because you haven't gone for a check-up once this year." Mitsuki says stuffing her sunglasses into her already full bag of lord knows what.

"Because I'm fine and I would know that."

-

His scowl only deepens as he walks into the smell of medicine flowing in the air of the building. Though he feels better when he finds out he doesn't have to wait and his mother was kind enough to book an appointment.

Unwillingly scurrying off quickly when he sees a fangirl squeal and stand up assuming to ask for a picture.

And for a second he thinks it's not that bad and things will go smoothly until the doctor starts asking all sorts of questions that he's sure aren't relevant at all.

He answers them all quite well until the doctor questions his sex life. And honestly, he was gonna answer in confidence without a second thought until he remembered his mother was sitting right next to him.

"So how often do you have sex?" The doctor asks without an ounce of embarrassment in his voice but then again he probably asks this question often.

"Well uh-"

He cuts himself off and just sits there frozen suddenly uncomfortable with all eyes in the room being on him. Regretting all his choices leading up to this moment.

"I don't- I don't think that's relevant.. at all."

The doctor only chuckles suddenly also uncomfortable with the energy in the room.

"Well uh.. considering the situation it is but would you like mom to step out of the room?"

And he doesn't answer just shrugs his shoulders and gives his mom a questioning look. And now Mitsuki is also uncomfortable with the energy AND the possibility of the answer.

"I don't know is it a worrying answer?" She questions turning the focus back to Katsuki.

"I'm not answering that." He answers letting out a very uncomfortable chuckle.

"Why?"

"I'm just not."

"Do I not wanna know?"

"I just don't feel like you need to know that."

"So I should step out?"

"You should step out."

"Out I go then."

"Yeah."

Mitsuki picks up her bag and walks out in less than a second.

"So.. I'm assuming it's often then." The doctor asks, pen ready in hand to right it down.

"Depends how often you consider often."

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“My darling.” // CelticSlave!Aemond Targaryen x VestalVirgin!Reader

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: Fetching water a little later than usual shouldn't really affect much of your life right? You're wrong, and you wouldn't find out until you found a celtic slave in a bad condition named Aemond.

WARNINGS: extreme noncon to dubcon, unprotected p in v sex, blood kink, degradation, breeding kink, violence, blood, murder, slight angst, stockholm syndrome(?), reader basically falls in love with Aemond even though he nonconned her, manipulation. not exactly historically accurate, this is just fiction so do not take it heart, hoping it isn't offensive, + not proofread // requested by @slytherincursebreaker !!

WC: 3.5k

You were an illegitimate daughter of a politician in your country, taken away from your mother to keep the scandal underground, you never had an easy life and your father only did the bare minimum, and to say your step mother and half siblings did not like you at all, they saw you as a pest more than anything, when the pontifex maximus was choosing vestal virgins to serve the goddess vesta, he had eyes for your family, specifically your sister but she did not want to go, and so they sent you instead, seizing the opportunity to get rid of you.

It did not mean you were fully free from their clutches however, as you grew in the monastery you were always slightly discriminated against but the other 5 priestess, having heard the rumours about your bastardised birth. But you still managed to get by, you remember how earlier this morning your half sister came to visit you, telling you that she is to be married soon, she came to rub it in your face because you were sworn to celibacy, and you could not engage in activities like such. She even bought her suitor along, who you swore looked at you with such lust, and you felt very creeped out.

This is why you deliberately didn't go and fetch water from the spring earlier today, he often came to visit the temple and watched you perform your duties to the goddess vesta.

Choosing to fetch water at such a late time shouldn't have any repercussions right? I mean, you did not do it earlier because you had a reason not to, not wanting to entertain the eyes of your half sister's suitor, so you're doing it now.

Wrong.

You didn't realise the threat back then, when you found Aemond being beaten up by a bunch of other men, kindness was something that came to you naturally, seeing him in such a state made your heart wrench, you shooed off the other men, reprimanding them for their behaviour and used your status as a vestal virgin to scare them off before looking down at the man who was covered in mud, and seemed to bleeding.

He had silver blonde hair, with only one eye as the other socket seemed empty, you wondered what had happened to him.

“Are you alright?” you ask and you he groans, turning over unto his back, you should leave, you shouldn't help him, but here you are picking him up, leaning his body weight against you and bringing him through one of the secret tunnels in underneath the infrastructure of the building, it was connected directly to another country, was made to use it in order to escape from war or to invade other lands, none of the common folk knew about this, and the people who knew didn't come here often either, as there was no such need for it anymore.

You sit him down in one of the 'rooms' which is just a big spacious squared tunnel, he plops down unto the ground weak and tired, breathing heavily, you quickly went back outside and fetched the water you forgot about and gave some of it for him to drink, you watched as he whimpered, swallowing in pain before he finally looked at you.

“T-thank you.” his voice was so weak, he was barely able to get any words out.

You gave him a gentle smile, and you realised that it was probably late, you had many questions for him but you kept it to yourself for now because you didn't want to bother him anymore, so left back to the temple where you resided.

“Why are you up so late?” you heard the head vestal ask, raising an eyebrow as she took in your appearance, mud covering your prestigious clothing, “I went to fetch the water head priestess, but I fell down on the way back.” you lie looking down, hoping she believes it, and to your surprise, she does believe it, she tells you to go to your quarters after putting the water down, so you do just that.

You visit the badly hurt person from yesterday once again, you knew you were not supposed to have any type of contact with a man, to remain pure as they will taint you, but you really could care less when its about helping others, you found him lying on the ground, likely sleeping, but your footsteps woke him up and he looked at you curiously, you gave him a small smile before giving him the bread you managed to sneak out without anyone noticing, along with water, you gave it to them and sat down, he reluctantly ate it before drinking the water. “Why are you doing this?” he asked you and you shrugged, “Is it so wrong to help a fellow human out?” you question back and he goes quiet, “You i never really got your name, or how you ended up in that situation.” you tilt your head as you watch him purse his lips.

“I am a celtic sex slave.”

You froze, he was a slave.

“My mistress threw me out, and I ended up on the streets without any shelter, and those men just wanted someone to mess with.” he sighs, swallowing the bread. You felt pity for him.

“Till you found me of course, I am extremely indebted to you my lady.” he says and you shake your head no, “I’m no lady, I am a vestal virgin that title is not of my belonging.” You said, and he tilted his head, not understanding what you had meant, he nodded but then his eyes widened “This is such an honour to be in the presence of such a being, sorry you must see me in this state, and… You had to touch me as well.” he apologises and you look down, you shake your head and tell him that it's okay and you did not mind.

You and Aemond had grown closer, he would tell you about his life before he became a sex slave, how he was treated, how you felt extremely bad, how your people treated the Celtics. And so you shared your problems in return as well, he provided you comfort which you lacked all of your life, for the first time you felt wanted, and you could not ignore the feeling that was starting to bloom inside you.

But you pushed it down, you are a celibate, you should not be feeling such things.

Aemond had taken a liking to you, you had a pretty soul as well as a pretty face, the way you looked in your white clothing, and whenever you would fix your scarf over the head afraid that your hair or skin would show made him more curious to see what is underneath the thick robes of clothing even more. He knows damn well that he isn't the first man to ever lust for a vestal virgin, there were many depraved others.

After Aemond recovered, you had showed him around the tunnels and dungeons, various routes that if something happens he can use them to escape, and you also showed the route which led to his country, and he noted it, telling you that he can use this to go back to his own people again and you gave him a small smile.

Though the thought of him leaving makes your heart wrench.

“Aemond, I have to go and attend to my duties now, I will meet you later okay?” you say quickly before leaving.

Though the later never came.

“She was caught sneaking around with a slave apparently, she kept him hidden, surely she committed adultery as well.” you heard the voice of the chief priestess tell the priest.

“That is utmost dishonourable, as a vestal virgin you are sworn to celibacy, how can you do this?!” He yells at you and you flinch, tears streaming down your face.

“I promise! I promise on the flame of vesta that nothing happened between us! I was just helping him out.” you plead on your knees.

“How can I believe you? That you are not ruined? You were helping a sex slave out? you want me to believe that?” he questions and you shake your head.

“Order her death by live burial, she will be buried underground with no food or water.” he commands, tone final.

You watched as one of the virgins who snitched on you, she smiled cruelly and your face turned into a scowl. She was the one who wasn't a virgin, yet you kept her secret knowing what would happen if others found out, but the moment she discovered something about you? She had gone straight to the chief priestess and told her, even fed her lies.

“No! No! Please listen to me! Nothing happened between us! You can check for my virginity if you want! Please.” you cried, at the priest and he simply dismissed you.

You were grabbed by his guards and were being led to your doom, dragged out of the temple forcefully and then the trial was processing when you heard a commotion, accompanied by panicked screams.

“There has been a rebellion! The celtics have rebelled against us!” You hear someone yell, and everyone panics, the guards that were holding you quickly let go before rushing off to fight, you run after them and go to the temple as well, eyes widening in horror as you saw the blood and how few of priestesses were being violated brutally by the rebels, their clothes were being torn by the celtic soldiers and you were spotted by two men who came over to you, grabbing you by your hands and shoving you onto the ground.

“This one's pretty, let me have her cunt first.” you screamed at them to let go and they fought against them, kicking one of them in the shins cause the man to stumble and fall, “This bitch–”

“Stop.”

They both immediately froze up and turned around, and you froze as well, recognizing the voice. “This one is mine, unless you want your heads fucking cut off, fuck off.” he spits harshly at them, and they bow their head before scurrying off and you furrow your eyebrows, Aemond looks at you with a smirk, the empty eye socket from before now held a blue sapphire in its place snuggly.

“This would not have been possible without you, I shall spare you for this.” he begins, pulling you up on your legs by the hair.

“W-why are you doing this?!” you asked in fear and Aemond shrugged before explaining, “For the benefit of my people of course, you Romans have treated us as nothing but barbarians, however I do not blame you for that, you are a kind soul.”

“I threw my life away for this, let myself get touched by filthy hands for this moment, and finally, it was all worth it in the end.” he chuckles cruelly, and you scrunch your face in a scowl, “The emperor—” you begun but you are quickly cut off by him yanking your hair and making you face where a body was laying, head detached from the body, he tuts, “This one?” he pulls out a head and shoves it right up into your face and you push it away, screaming, he lets gos of the head and it falls to the ground rolling away.

“He was nothing but a coward, running off in the secret tunnels, letting his people die, unworthy of ruling over the people, so instead, I became the new emperor.” he clarifies.

“If you are going to kill me, just do it already.” you spit, and he looks surprised at this.

“Doll, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago, besides I said that I would already spare you, since you were a kind soul, and once again, without you, I would not be here.” he smiles cruelly and you feel your stomach twist.

His grip on your hair leaves before it's attached to your forearm, hand gripping the skin cruelly as he drags you somewhere, and you noticed that it was the head priestess room, the nearest one in the temple. You quickly realised what he wanted to do, so you started struggling, annoyed by this, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, before carrying and entering the room inside, securing the curtain shut before he threw you on the bed.

You try to get up and run away but he pushes you on the bed, gets on top of you, and yanks your clothes away, tearing at your robes harshly, revealing your body to him, you quickly hide yourself but he pins your hands to your side and takes in your body, he groans at the sight of your chest heaving up and down, you wriggle underneath him, trying to kick him off but he captures your legs and pushes them apart before planting himself in between them.

“No! Please! No!” you cry out but he shuts you up with one of his hands, the other one quickly undoes his breeches, revealing his hard cock, he gives himself a few pumps and lines it up against your entrance. His tip prods at your entrance, he doesn't wait a second before shoving his cock inside of you, ripping your walls apart, making you scream in pain as you struggled beneath him, he watches as your blood leaks onto his cock, and his smiles at that before he looks at you, watching tears stream down your face as he takes what he wants, he immediately sets his pace at a brutal one, ramming his cock in and out of you.

Each movement was painful for you, your cries and screams muffled by his hand, your body jolting up the bed as he brutally thrusts inside, traumatising your walls, the free hand grips your breasts cruelly before he pinches your nipple harshly, causing you to arch your back, and whine loudly.

Using the least amount of strength you have you push him heavily off, and to your luck it works cause he is caught off guard making him fall next to you, and before you could get up and run, he grabs your waist and pushes you back onto the bed again, getting on top of you and choking your neck with both his hands.

“I was going to spare you, but it seems you do not want that, take it or fucking die.” he spits on your face and you wince, crying out once again as he enters inside you.

Your body betrays you, you know it when it suddenly starts to feel good, his tip hitting a certain spot inside of you, and soon you're moaning as well, unable to process this foreign sensation. “Yeah, that's more like it, my brave girl.” he coos and bends down to kiss your neck and you whimper when he bites down at your sensitive area.

You grab onto his shoulders for support, and he hums in satisfaction, one of his hands travel down to your clit before rubbing fast circles it, and you felt your stomach tighten at that, before something snapped and you were moaning extremely loudly, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure hit you like a huge wave.

You cried out his name, and he hushed you and continued to thrust inside of you, grunting, you felt his thrusts become more sloppy before he halted, pushing himself into you as far as he could go, and moaned as his seed spurted out of him, he slowly rode it out, painting more of your walls white.

“I want to see you pregnant.” his hand rests on the lower part of your abdomen, as he caresses it gently with his thumb, before pulling out and leaning down to pepper kisses on the area, as if a kiss will ensure your pregnancy.

His hands fondle with your boobs, thumbs flicking the nipples as he massages the flesh, “they will be filled with milk..” he says in a daze.

You saw him getting hard again and your eyes widened, before you could get up on your elbows, he pushed you down once again again, holding your legs apart and pushing them up, making the knees bend, touching your chest.

He lines his cock before shoving it brutally inside again, he trapped you in a mating press while he thrusted above, your walls drummed with pain at the overstimulation, you were whimpering.

“Fucking it take it you slut, look at how your expression matches that of a whore.” he degrades you, hips snapping at each words, you felt a sting in your heart at his mean behavior.

“This is what you were made for, to be a fucking whore that men can use, not a vestal virgin, having this much of a perfect cunt and wasting it is unbelievable.” he groans and you feel tears start to fall down at his insults.

He pulled back and groaned at the sight of how there was still blood covered on his cock, your blood which coated him so perfectly, and he felt him nearing his edge, his hand gripped your cheeks before forcing your mouth open and then he spit into it, “Swallow, you whore.” he commands and you obey scared.

“Fuck, you're my whore aren't you? my pretty little whore who will let me fuck my children into.” he moans. “I can't wait to make you mine, my empress who will rule along with me, give me children, my darling- oh fuck—”

You felt the familiar feeling of heat arise in your stomach again, as he hits the same spot again and again, and soon enough, you're once again reaching your peak, arching your back at the intensity, he then finishes inside of you again.

That night was a nightmare, he took you multiple times, he made you take him in your mouth, and he did the same, lapping at your cunt for hours on end as he relished in your taste.

You remember passing out, unable to take anymore as exhaustion weighed upon you.

You woke up groaning, you slept like a baby, that's until you moved a little bit and your body aches like hell itself, and you get up, stretching to relieve the pain, you looked over to your side and spotted Aemond fast asleep, completely bare and then you remembered the events of the night prior.

You saw the sheets which were now covered in your blood, your virgin blood, and you were pure no more. You felt doom settle in your core but you felt relieved in a weird sense of way.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside, you gathered whatever was left of your robes before covering yourself with it, hiding your intimate parts and exiting the room.

You gasped as the scent of blood hit your nostrils, and almost threw up, but then what caught your eye made you surprised, you noticed how the head priestess, and all the people who have wronged you in the middle, tied up as the guards lazily kept them in check.

When they spotted you, they screamed insults at you and you winced, anger coursing through your veins at such an intense rate.

“My empress, look at them, look at the people who wronged you.” you heard Aemond whisper in your ear from behind you, and you got startled, you turned to look at him and you watched as he was almost naked except the sheets which were loosely held together by him on his lower body, hiding his intimate part, the same sheets which were covered in your blood.

“Look at them, see how they are still blaming you? What do you want to do huh? Does it not make you mad?” he asks and you turn your attention back to them again, it frankly does make you mad. “I would never treat you like that, I love you. My queen.”

“What do you want, my little empress?” he asks and you make up your mind.

You collect the water in a small dish and Aemond watches you in confusion, but then you make your way towards the flame of vesta, and pour water over it, putting it out and the head priestess' eyes widen in horror.

“Kill them all.” your voice was more clear than ever.

“Spare the head priestess, and that one, for they shall be buried alive.” you say coldly before you walk back to Aemond, who welcomes you in his arms.

“You heard your queen, do as she commands.” he orders his men before he escorts you away from the scene and into the room once again.

He pushes you on the bed and crawls atop of you, “I wasn't joking when I said I want you pregnant, doll.” he coos and you gulp.

“Impregnate me, my king, I want to carry your heirs.”

And that was enough to make Aemond go insane, before he took you once again.

And soon, you fell pregnant.

Giving birth to a girl, who Aemond adored.

Life seemed to be well and perfect.

Maybe you don't really regret this at all.

———

GENERAL TAGLIST ;

@watercolorskyy @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

Bold is who I cannot tag, DM to be removed!

[neuvistar]

maryse girlie h..how do you think…biker!blade fucks you…

been thinkin’ abt this HARD 4 days nonstop god bless u anon

biker!blade x fem!reader. cw. blowie, cunniligus, use of nicknames, riding, v4ginal fingering, blade referred as “yingxing” twice(?), mentions of smoking n cigarettes. minors dni. (biker blade is my dream ride)

BIKER!BLADE who is willing to fuck you anyway you want him to! you want him to eat you out? his tongue is already lapping at your warmth! you want him to fuck you from behind? he’s already ramming into you from behind tugging at your hair, you went him to finger you? his fingers are already teasing at your clit. it’s best to say that blade is willing to fuck you anytime any-day and any hour, as long as he’s in the mood for it!

BIKER!BLADE who would have you ride him on his lap while you both sat on his newest motorcycle he recently bought, hands squeezing at the fat of your ass.. that stupid coy smirk on his face. “this was your idea. why are you crying, pretty girl? can’t take big dick anymore? thought i stretched out this pussy enough.” god, he’s so annoying sometimes. you could tell he enjoyed taunting you, jerking his hips forward to thrust himself inside your overstimulated cunt, small tears streaming down your face with pure ecstasy you couldn’t explain, not even to the stars. “mm.. so how do you like this new motorcycle?” you wanted to open your mouth to speak, your words immediately got caught in your throat as a whine left instead when he began to pound your pretty pussy, his large hand gently placed on the back of your head.. that stupid smirk on his face. “well? do you like it?” “.. i— fuck.. i do!” “louder, angel. let me hear you.”

BIKER!BLADE would smoke often, it’s like every time you see him.. you always see him puffing up a cigarette. it’s hot to say the least, especially when you suck him off. he took a puff from his cigarette, the entire room smelled like complete bounce that ass a deep woody aroma, a scent that drove you crazy from how strong it was.. but you didn’t care much. blade gazed down on you from above, his cock throbbing in your mouth. cockhead hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. his hands gripped your hair tighter, pulling your head harder against his crotch, putting that damned cigarette near his lips again as he took another puff. your tongue swirled around his member desperately, feeling the veins of his cock brush against your wet muscle. “that’s it, keep going. keep sucking my cock until i’m done with this cigarette.” blade slowly leaned closer, bringing his voice down to a whisper. “.. it’s gonna take awhile. don’t take those eyes off of me, keep that pretty mouth on my cock.”

BIKER!BLADE is willing to try new things with you, especially if it meant fingering you beneath the moonlight at an empty parking lot. his fingers are good, you can’t deny that. he’s obsessed with fingering you, he loves how slick your pussy can get from his fingers alone, hips jerking forward to let you feel how hard he gets, a low yet deep chuckle rumbling from his throat. “what? you can’t take it? remember what i told you, baby.. big girls can take this. your pussy should be used to my fingers by now, c’mon.. show me that you’re a big girl.” curling his fingers within your pussy sent you in absolute shambles, the way he curled them could be enough for you to release all over his digits. the tip of his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. “nngh.. yingxing p-please..” you begged, your body aching for more. “don’t worry, angel.. i won’t stop until you’re screaming my name.” he increased the pace of his fingers, switching between rubbing your cunt and thrusting his fingers inside, his chin on your shoulder as he held you firmly against him.. his hair brushing against your skin.

BIKER!BLADE who would set you down on his motorcycle and eat you out, keeping a soft and firm grip on your hips so you don’t fall! to be honest, i’m sure you’d be afraid of tipping over because of how good he was getting in there. blade couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you, your body.. your skin glistening with sweat and desire. his tongue, the instrument of your delight continued its dance, each flick and lick drawing moans from your lips. be could feel your body tremble, each shudder making him harder, wanting to tease you further. “such a sweet girl you are, huh? letting me eat your pussy while your juices drip right on my motorcycle.” a low chuckle left his throat as he gazed at you, your eyes closed, your face a picture of ecstasy. “y—yingxing.. ‘m gonna fall..” you murmured softly, your body arched like a silent plea for more, and he couldn't resist. he plunged his tongue deep inside you, savoring the taste of your arousal. “oh you’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. just sit there and look pretty for me.”

BIKER!BLADE who would have such good stamina. not only does he have stamina on the roads, he has stamina in the sheets too. “ugh.. fuck this pussy’s good, angel. can’t get enough of it.” his erection was hard and ready, your eyes locking onto him with a hunger that matched his own. blade positioned himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. “again?” you asked, your voice breathy and soft. that same cocky grin that belied his nerves. "always for you, angel. this dick is yours, so take it.”

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arguments

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're what's different

Momma and Morsa don't yell at each other often but when they do, they're very loud.

It's one of the rare days that you're not stuck to their sides. You're off in your bedroom, digging through your toy chest because you promised Jessie that you would find your box of dinosaurs and bring it in tomorrow.

You don't play with your dinosaurs a lot but Jessie bought them for you when Momma and Morsa took you both to the museum and you think that Jessie should get to play with them too.

You can hear Momma and Morsa yelling through the door and that scares you a little. Not too much though because sometimes Momma and Morsa yell and when you go out to see them, they're kissing.

Adults are strange like that.

So, you poke your head out of your room.

Morsa storms past you. She gives you the tightest, most fake smile ever as she passes to go to her and Momma's room. Momma also goes past you, still yelling until they're debating back and forth.

"Where-Where's Morsa going?" You ask meekly from the doorframe as Morsa shoves clothes into her bag.

They both stop yelling to look at you.

"I'm just going to Johanna's for a little bit," Morsa says.

You frown. "Like a playdate? When will you be home?"

Morsa's throat bobs. "Like a sleepover." She shoulders her bag of clothes and kneels down next to you. She presses kisses to your cheeks and smooths down your hair. "I love you, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

That makes you cry. Your knees buckle and tears drop down your face.

Morsa shouldn't be going to sleep over at Johanna's house and she and Momma shouldn't be fighting either. It's not fair and you sob as soon as Morsa's out the door.

Momma tries to calm you but you just scream and cry and flop back onto the floor and pound it with your hands.

It's all unfair.

You think you cry yourself to sleep that night but you're not sure.

One second your screaming and crying on the floor and the next Momma's curled around you in the Big Bed and the sun is streaming through the curtains.

You bring your pack of dinosaurs to practice for you and Jessie to play with but you're not very happy.

Momma and Morsa are still angry with each other so if you're standing by one of them, then the other is nowhere near.

"Morsa," You say softly as you stray from Momma's side at lunch," What's for dinner?"

"I don't know, princesse," She says with one of her fake smiles," You'll have to ask your Momma."

You don't like that and tug on the bottom of her top. "Why? You're the cooking boss."

Morsa's still wearing the fake smile as she pats your head. "I'm staying at Johanna's., remember Princesse?"

"Why? You already stayed at Johanna's!"

Morsa's got one of those adult looks on her face that means she's not going to tell you the full truth. "You'll have fun with Momma tonight," She promises you," You can sleep in the big bed if she lets you."

"Want to sleep in the Big Bed with you too!"

"I'm sorry, princesse."

You pull away from Morsa and go to hide under one of the tables. Millie's big and strong so no one will bother you as you duck under the one she's eating at and sit by her legs.

Your mind runs at a mile a minute as you try to work out what's wrong with Momma and Morsa and how you can fix it. You're only little but Morsa says you're very smart and you're determined to fix this problem.

You know that your mothers never used to argue when they were younger. Momma's old teammates used to tell you that your parents were disgustingly in love when they were younger.

You think that's kind of sweet.

They don't argue a lot now but you think they must argue more now than before when they were younger.

At first, you don't know what's changed from then to now.

You mull it over before Millie shifts her legs.

They press into you a little bit more firmly now and, suddenly, you know what's different.

You're what's different.

When Momma and Morsa were younger and didn't argue as much, they didn't have you. They're older now and they yelled at each other last night. The only difference from then to now is you.

You don't like how that makes you feel. Your stomach goes all tight and icky and your throat closes up as you try to hold back tears.

Momma once told you that if something is making you feel bad, you need to remove it from your life.

Momma and Morsa feel bad towards each other because you're what's different now.

You don't want to go. You don't know where you're meant to go so Momma and Morsa can feel better again.

You can't go to Johanna or Zećira because they're friends with Morsa and still see her a lot. You can't see any of the other Not-Wolfsburg girls for the same reason.

You can't even see moster Frido because even though she doesn't live in England, she still sees Morsa at camp.

Maybe you can go back to Wolfsburg and live with Alex or Ewa. They don't play on any teams with Momma and Morsa and, maybe, if you're gone then Momma and Morsa will be happy again.

You sniffle a little bit and crawl out from under the table.

You'll try to find a different solution first because you really don't want to leave.

"Momma," You say softly when you find her," Why did you and Morsa argue?"

Momma pulls a face. "We're not talking about that, princesse."

"But why?" You know you're pushing but you can't find a different solution if you don't know what the problem is.

"Princesse," Momma's voice is firm and you know you need to drop it," It's adult talk. Little ears don't need to hear it."

"Momma!" You say," I have to know! Why are you and Morsa angry?!"

"Enough!" Momma rarely raises her voice at you and it makes you suddenly flinch back and pull your hand out of hers. "I've said that you don't need to worry about it and I mean it! No more questions!"

"Don't talk to her like that!"

You hadn't realised Morsa was there until she spoke.

She and Momma start arguing again and that makes you want to cry again.

This time, they're definitely arguing about you.

You run while they're still distracted, your backpack bouncing as you move as fast as your little legs can carry you. You can feel the tears dripping down your face as you make little heartbroken noises from your throat.

"Whoa," Jessie says as you bump into her," Careful there." She's smiling but it falls the moment that she sees how distraught you are. She drops to her knees and gently wipes your tears. "What's going on?"

Your breathing is ragged and your shoulders rise and fall quickly. "Have to leave!"

"You have to leave?"

You nod and sniffle. "Have to go back to Germany! So Momma and Morsa can be happy!"

Jessie's a little shocked, trying to make sense of her thoughts as you go completely limp in her arms, sobbing your little heart out as you try to blubber out your reasoning.

She's still trying to work everything out when Magda and Pernille come running over, panting.

You flinch away from both of them, tears still streaming down your face as you try to hide away.

"I'm going!" You cry out.

"Where are you going?" Morsa asks as she tries to take you from Jessie.

"To Germany! So you and Momma can be happy again!"

"We're very happy," Momma says softly," What's going on, huh? Are you missing Germany?"

"Morsa's not at home!" You sob," And you're arguing now! Because I'm here!"

"We're not arguing because of you, princesse," Momma promises," Sometimes, me and Morsa have some big feelings that we argue about. It's not anything to do with you."

You sniffle and wipe away some of your tears as Jessie lets go of you. "But you're arguing. You never argued when I wasn't born."

Morsa chuckles slightly and reaches out to cup your face. You let her.

"We did argue before you," She says," You being here doesn't make us argue more. If anything, you being here makes us argue less."

You don't believe that but Morsa has no reason to lie to you. "Really?"

"Really."

Momma draws you into her arms and you go willingly, reaching your hand out for Morsa to take. She rubs over your knuckles and kisses it.

"We're very sorry that you got so worried about this, princesse," Morsa says as you sap up Momma's comfort," It's nothing to do with you. Me and Momma are just a little silly sometimes."

"You're staying right here," Momma promises you," Who else will cuddle with me in the big bed?"

That makes you giggle a little bit.

"Aw, man," Morsa groans even though her smile betrays her true feelings," Cuddles in the big bed? Again?"

You don't speak but you nod.

"My princesse is going to have all the cuddles in the big bed with me. If you're good, Magda, then maybe you can get Princesse cuddles too."

Morsa laughs. "I guess I can be good if it means Princesse cuddles."

[bi-writes]

mercenary!ghost is dead inside. he wonders what it leaves behind on his pretty little bunny.

notes about reader: as always, reader is curvy and ghost knows exactly what he wants to do with all that ass

more mercenary!ghost (part 2/?)

word count: 5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, pet names (luv, pet, bunny + rabbit, puppy), dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, ghost is thicc, mentions of violence and gore + murder and extortion, mw3 spoilers, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, tw smoking, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader described as much smaller, manhandled easily), suggestive touching and oral (fem!receiving), cumplay, mentions of dubcon but relationship/dynamics are consensual, simon "i eat pussy like a god" riley

his phone is ringing. it surprises him, the sound of it. it's not familiar, to hear it ring, to see a name on the screen of it and recognize it.

there was no one left to call. not until now.

he adjusts his hold on his rifle, slipping an earbud into his ear.

"'ello?"

"almost back yet?" it's you. rattling your cage.

"'m busy."

"i know--" he clicks his tongue when you say this, annoyed. "but you're not back yet."

"i'll be back when i'm back."

"yeah, but when is that?"

brat.

"'s this how it's gonna be? botherin' me when 'm out?"

"uh huh. so when are you gonna be back?"

"when 'm back."

you huff at that, and ghost snarls a bit under the mask, adjusting the scope and peering through it. there is movement, and he focuses. then your soft voice sounds again, "are you with someone else?"

there's a grunt, and then a firm, "no." and it is the truth, and you know it is, because he doesn't care enough to lie to you. you sigh on the other end, staring up at the ceiling with a wobbly bottom lip.

"we done 'ere?" he asks after a long pause. you sniffle, closing your eyes.

"take me with you next time."

he hangs up before he answers. needy little puppy he has, he knows this. he isn't unfamiliar with this kind of dynamic. it wasn't unlike the job he used to have--a lieutenant, a man in charge, in command of other needy puppies that needed to be put in their place. he wonders often if johnny would have liked you, but you are enough trouble as it is on your own.

a pet dies and another is bought; whatever ghost is, he outlives them.

he attracts them, he thinks. the ones who ache to belong. from the first moment he met you, he knows that is why he felt his blood run a little warmer at the sight of you--it is something in your eyes, something he recognizes, something that he knows tastes so fucking good. there is predator, and there is prey, and then there is the in-between. the purgatory of those who have no idea who they are. they must be shown. they have to be taught, and if they fall into the wrong hands, they are mangled and chewed through.

he wonders for a moment if maybe his mother was one of them. then he remembers that it doesn't matter what she was, because his father had black running through his veins. the same black that simon thinks he sees in the mirror--and sometimes it bleeds onto his face, he swears it's there, hiding underneath the eye-black he paints on himself.

when he was younger, he used to hide from his reflection because of it. the rot of the other half that he was made of, it terrified him. he feared being consumed by it. he was afraid of letting it show, he was afraid of scaring other people.

but when he crawled himself out of his early grave and buried the good half of himself, he didn't flinch in the mirror any longer. he let himself linger there, and when he swiped the black against his pale skin for the first time, he remembers thinking that maybe it had always been there. that he doesn't recognize himself without it because this is what i am, something made of ash, something that shouldn't be here, the remnants of something that touched a flame too hot and swallowed something foul. rancid.

and maybe that is what he's been doing since then--maybe that is what the hollow place is that he feels inside, maybe it's the half that he buried that he wishes so fucking badly to hold onto because it's the only thing that distracted him from feeling like the thing that he truly is. and maybe that is why he died again when johnny did; it was too late to realize that the hollowness is back, and it is deeper, and it hurts now, fuck, take it back, take it away--

and maybe that is why he hates you in some way. because the space is gone. it is filled again; and you fit so perfectly there, and it will happen again, and he has no idea how many more times he can lose the redeemable half of him until there is nothing left to redeem.

but black still runs in his veins, and he is selfish, and he will hold onto it until it's gone. he doesn't care. he is a thing, he is not real, and it doesn't matter to him if he will die again when you do, because while he has you, he will drink what you give him. salvation, redemption, painting his blood red, whatever the fuck it is that you are meant to give him, he will take it, and he will devour it, and he doesn't care what he leaves behind.

he wants it. it's selfish, it's cruel, but he wants it. everything he touches fades away; if he was something real, he would cut you off. but he isn't, and he doesn't care, and he's curious to know what the stain of himself will look like on you.

beautiful you. such a pretty girl. soft like a bunny, glittering eyes--if he was a poet, he might say they are filled with starlight. but ghost is a predator; the shine of you only makes his mouth water.

you were his the moment he saw you for the very first time. he was not inclined to ask your permission, but it wouldn't have mattered--he knew as soon as your eyes met, really met, that he had you. hook, line, and sinker--there it is, there she is, what she really is inside. there is a light there inside of you, he could see it.

he is going to snuff it out. he doesn't know why, but he will, because he wants to. he has an urge to kill something, and he thinks whatever it is that swims in you will do just fine. he knows, somehow, that you will look beautiful covered in it--in the tears when he breaks, when he tears, when he destroys, you will look beautiful, and he won't stop until he takes all of it. he knows, too, he doesn't know how he knows but he knows, that you will let him.

he crossed another name off his list today. he watched them on a lonely rooftop all morning, and it rained. he watched them move back and forth, between doorways, answering phone calls. he doesn't ask questions, so he wonders occasionally what it is they did to warrant a visit from him.

they could've stolen. maybe they betrayed; that is a popular motivation. lovers' quarrels--he knows what it is to die for love, but dying for love at the wrong end of his rifle isn't in marriage vows. maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; maybe they saw what they shouldn't have, and it was enough for a visit from their guardian angel.

sometimes he thinks that what he does is at their mercy; because if he didn't do it, if he didn't make it so quick, so easy, they would suffer. at least this way, by his hand, they would never know. he brings comfort. ease.

it is the same with you, it has to be. he closes his fist and bangs on the outside of your door. the wood rattles under the force, and when you open the door, the look that you give him only solidifies his assumption. if it wasn't him keeping you, then it would be someone else. someone else would look into those eyes, and they would take from you, but they wouldn't be like him. he takes, and he will take, but you won't know that you are empty until it's too late.

that is merciful, isn't it? this kind of love is forgiving, right? the kind that shields, the white lies that protect, that blindfold that hides--this is humane. he is a thing, a predator, yes, but he isn't like the others.

right?

you step aside, and he has to maneuver his shoulders to make it past the narrow doorway. as you close the door, your eyes linger. he wears a dark rain jacket over a long sleeve, dark cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. he wears a holster on one meaty thigh, but it only holds a small pack there. his balaclava is plain, hiding all but his dark eyes, and the hood of his jacket casts a long shadow over him. the gloves he wears are of a utility variety--he worked today. if you ask him, he will say yes, but he will not tell you anything else.

sometimes, you aren't sure if he just doesn't care or if he is trying to protect you from some ugly truth. but then you remember that there are no ugly truths with ghost; the truth is as it is, nothing more and nothing less, and if he hides it from you, it is because you simply don't need to know.

you lock the door behind you, leaning against it. he moves through your apartment with ease. he has been here before, but it feels as if he has always been here. he knows how to rattle the balcony door to get the lock to free, and you don't remember showing him how to unlatch it. you busy yourself with putting the kettle to boil as you see him light a match, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

it's a nasty vice. it blackens the lungs, shrinks the organ, addicts the user. but it tastes good. and it feels good. and it isn't what will kill him, because this isn't real.

you come outside, a mug of tea in your hand, and you set it down beside him. he flicks ash off the cigarette, spreading his legs wide as he sits there, watching the street below. it's quiet because it's raining, and while the balcony is covered, it wets the toes of his boots.

he looks so good. he spreads himself out in the chair, taking up so much space, and his hand that doesn't hold the cigarette is spread out along his thigh, running absentmindedly down the material of his pants. it's hard to describe the breadth of him--ghost is just big. his hands, the height of him, the space that you can tuck yourself into his chest. he could curl you around his arm, wrap you up with both of them, trap you there. you don't hate the thought of that, the idea of him keeping you there like that. you think about the width of his hand, how it might look with the black of his glove spread out across your throat, holding you there, keeping you there.

you think about what it would be like to be under his mercy. his control. to feel the press of those fingers against the hollow of your throat, knowing he could crush your windpipe with just one perfectly placed squeeze. he would know where to touch. he would know where to tug just right to cut the air off.

it's too bad you didn't know you already belonged to him.

"can i have some?"

you nod to the cigarette burning in his hand. his eyes flicker up to look at you for a moment before he adjusts in the chair. he shrugs finally.

"'f you want."

you put a hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself to sit on his lap. you wear nothing except for a loose shirt, one that covers you to your thighs, but when you sit, it rides up. he takes the weight of you easily, not looking strained in the slightest, one arm supporting the thickness of your thighs with a firm grasp.

you lean forward a little, into him, and he brings the cigarette to your lips. you wrap your lips around it, taking a breath. you want to revel in that fact that you're putting your lips around something his own have touched, and then you start to cough.

the air burns. you turn your head to the side and wheeze; you hear a condescending chuckle, and you go warm with embarrassment. but his hand rubs small circles into your back, coaxing the smoke out of your lungs. you take in a few strong breaths to clear the smoke, and then you look away from him.

"not a smoker, eh?"

"that was...my first time."

when your head turns back to face him shyly, he tilts his head to the side. you cannot see any of his expression, but you imagine he's curious. the way his eyes look you up and down tell you that much.

"wot, you saw me do it, 'n ya think y'can take it?"

you don't respond, just keep your eyes on his. your fingers move, spreading across the solidity of his chest, and you rest them there. you lean in a little more, your face only a few mere inches from his own, and it gives you an opportunity to examine him so close.

his mask is weathered, the skull mouth painted along the mouth a little faded and messy with wear. he smells like cigarettes and earth, wet soil and ash and something warm. the eye-black that is smeared across his eyes fades out at the edges, and the paleness of his skin peeks out a little. you know the black covers the tiredness under his eyes, the lines that must be set in his face from how much he frowns. he has blonde lashes and dark eyes, and what intrigues you the most is that you can see the jagged edge of a healed scar peeking out from under the fabric that hides him.

he frowns, and you see the furrowing of the skin underneath. you meet his eyes again, and it feels surreal to see him in this much detail. you don't think this is a common occurrence; you have a feeling that anyone that has ever gotten this close to him did not live to talk about it the next day.

he has never told you, but you know death follows him. you have never seen what war has done to him, you can't see the rough skin and the patches where skin has been shredded or torn off, but you know, sitting so close to him, that he leaves bodies behind him and terrifies the ones that approach.

you wonder if you should be afraid, but then you remember that if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now. he does not want to kill you.

he wants to eat you.

you have asked him once what he does for work. he said he used to work for the military, but he didn't say anymore. when you asked what he did now, he said he was an independent contractor.

a contractor for what, you did not get the answer to. just that he was his own boss now, and no one told him what to do anymore.

"what did you do today?" you ask him finally, reaching up timidly and slipping a thumb down the line of his strong jaw.

"work."

"and how was it?"

he does not answer, and your eyes flicker back up to his, studying his reaction. he doesn't give one, just eyes the line of your throat as you swallow hard.

"a good pay day then?" you ask, and he hums at that. you smile a little, reaching up with both hands and cupping his masked cheeks gently. "must be good at what you do."

his face flickers a bit at that. he sniffs, looking to the side before back at you, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. one of his big hands comes up and slips up the shirt you wear, gripping your ass firm.

"good at other things, too," is all he says, and you smooth one of your thumbs down the row of painted teeth along the mouth of the mask. his breath comes out warm under your thumb.

"like killing people?"

his hand stiffens against you, and he glares up at you. a huff of a breath comes out, and you tense a little. he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, reaching up with that hand and gripping you around the jaw. your face fits nicely in his hand, and you might enjoy it if it wasn't so aggressive, the way he touched you. he shakes you a little, bringing you close enough that you can feel the wetness of his snarl against your lips.

"that wot y'think i am? some kind o'murderer?" he spits. "think 'm some kind o'fuckin' killer?"

a wave of tears prick the sides of your eyes, and you grip his wrist tight, trying to keep the pressure off of you.

"i know what you do," you whisper. "i know what you do, it's pretty obvious."

"yeah? 'n ya think it's a good idea to fuckin' talk t'me this way? ask me questions you don't want the answers to?"

you narrow your eyes, and you stare back at him, matching the intensity of his own. this makes him laugh; there is no humor in his laugh, but he laughs, and he rattles your whole head as he brings you close enough that your lips brush against the fabric of his mask.

"oh...you want me to tell ya...want me to spill all my bloody secrets..." he growls. you let out a whine when he brings you even closer, smashing your lips against the front of his mask. you choke out a whimper, and you swear you feel his tongue trying to find yours through the barrier. "think y'can handle the lot like me, bunny, and you can't. blood on m'ledger would fuckin' drown you."

and it is the truth, he knows it is, and he wouldn't lie to you because he just doesn't fucking care enough to think up a lie. he didn't serve so many years, he didn't give so much time to what he thought was righteous to come home and paint war as a pretty picture to civilians like you. war is blood, war is loss, war is what takes and takes and takes from a man, until they are things. until they come home and realize they have no idea what they were fighting for when they seem the same dirty streets they left behind.

when their brothers still get killed. when their families still come apart. when their lovers betray them, when they break their hearts--when they realize they are glorified weapons for the politicians that don't care about them, that send them away to die, that refuse to support them when they come home without the goodness that they left with.

he gave his entire life up for this. they took his family, they took the only half of him that mattered, and what was it for? nothing waits for him at home. there is no one in his bed, there is no one to call, there was no money in the bank.

there is only the memories that manifest into nightmares, and the blue sky that reminds him of blue eyes. the blue eyes that he could not save, the blue eyes that haunt him, that ask him, desperately--let the bonnie lass go, LT. you cannae save'er.

but he is a lieutenant, and he was a sergeant, and he didn't take fucking orders from anyone anymore anyways.

you are his, and you look so pretty in that cage. pretty enough to eat. pretty enough to take away. pretty enough to poison, because he thinks maybe this is the only way to make himself feel better.

he wants to see your blood run just as black as his own. misery loves company, they say, and it would please him, the selfish thing that he is, to see you just as ugly inside as he is.

"but you want it," he says, and your eyes flick back to meet his. you don't smile, but your gaze doesn't falter. you just stare back at him, and he laughs again, because he sees something he recognizes there. something inhuman, something a little feral. it is inside you.

and he wants it out.

he stands, leaning over you. you're forced to walk backwards, and he doesn't stop until you're back inside. he closes the balcony door behind him, putting a hand on your chest before forcing you backwards with a firm push. the back of your knees hit the couch, and you squeak as you fall back against it.

you almost think he's going to pounce on you. rip your panties to fabric shreds, spread you wide, and fuck you into the cushions. you think he's going to take from you, because that is what predators do, but you're almost taken back by the sight of him lowering to his knees.

he's kneeling. this behemoth of a thing kneels in front of you, and you yelp with a start when he grips you by the back of your knees and yanks you forward, manhandling you until he has your legs tossed over his shoulders. he grunts as he pushes the shirt up to expose your cotton panties, a soft red pair that you know he will ruin when he's done with you.

your back arches as he buries the front of his mask against your cunt, taking a deep breath through the mask. it's filthy, the way he takes in the scent of you, and if you were sane, you would push him away, the nasty thing he is. but you don't--the gesture floods your insides with need, and you squirm in his grip.

"stay still, little rabbit," he says, but it's a demand. he moves one hand further up your thighs, and you whimper softly when his thumb squishes the slit of you through your panties. his eyes brighten when he notices the fabric darkening as soon as he does this, a growing wet spot dampening your underwear. "look at 'er...drippin'...you hungry, luv?"

"uh...ngghhh..."

"oh, fer fuck's sake, haven't even got m'mouth on ya, and y'can't speak already?"

he laughs, because he is mean, because he is a thing that just wants and takes, and what he wants is between your thighs, and you are easy. you want to be more of a challenge; you want to make him work for it, but his eyes flicker up to meet your own, and there is nothing you can do. there is something said whenever your eyes are on each other--you have no idea what it is, but it tames him, and it keeps you.

"he woulda loved you," he says suddenly. you frown, opening your mouth to say something, to ask who he is, but his index finger pulls your panties aside, and he buries his masked face into the wet seam of your pretty pussy.

you cry out at the feeling, your thighs closing around his head instinctively. your back bows even further, a taut, imaginary string being pulled inside of you, and ghost laughs again, because you're so warm and cute and needy. he pushes his face further into you, nuzzling his nose into the place where he knows your clit is, and he draws the most delicious moans out of you. he smiles under the mask when one of your shaking hands grips the back of his head, pushing him deeper, his mask soaking with the slick of you.

he continues the torture for a time unknown. your brain isn't working; you have no concept of time. all you can think about is the way your legs shake and the grip your hands have on the back of his head as you grind your hips up into him. your eyes flutter open and closed, and you push your shirt up a little so he can see your nipples harden with how much everything aches for him.

it feels so good. he grunts, and then a low groan leaves him when you maneuver his head, shoving his nose up against your clit again and slanting your hips up and into him. you're getting off on this--fucking the front of his mask to feel something, to feel this thing you have been chasing for your entire life.

you saw it in him the first time you met him. the knowing when your eyes met for the first time--whatever it is that you have been chasing for your entire life, it is in him, and you need it.

the thing that poets chase. the rush that a high brings. the missing half of you, the warmth of a love you've never had, the shape of something in your cunt that you know he can fill.

you think you might faint when you feel his tongue finally. you can't see his face; he hides it with a wet mask, but his tongue is inside of you now, and you can't help the crying moans that leave you as he laps at your folds like a thirsty dog. maybe he is thirsty--you can hear the lewd, deep swallowing sounds he makes as he tightens his grip on your thighs and bobs his head in time with your stuttering, pleasure-chasing hips.

he drinks. he drinks you insane. his tongue suckles at your clit, then lets it go with a filthy pop to swirl inside your tightening cunt and eat the pretty bunny he has been thinking about far too much. when he works, before he sleeps, in the shower, in the mirror as he covers the scars of him that he never wants to share anymore. the taste of you is enough to distract him--here, between your thighs, your sweetness in his mouth and your moans filling his ears, he doesn't think about anything else. it's impossible. he has been chasing the void for a long time, and all he had to do was eat a pretty girl to get to it?

he knows it now, has decided it already. your cunt is redemption, and he will lose himself in it to make it reality.

"ghost! please!"

your cries shatter his resolve. he folds you in half as he leans over you now, his hands sliding up your soft stomach before he grips the weight of your breasts in his rough hands and squeezes firmly. you whine, cry, moan, beg--you beg for more, for him to please, please, please--! it feels so good, i want it! i want you, i want it all, i want--i want--what does she want?

me? the thing? what isn't real? because ghost knows that if he gives in, it is over. he signs something away, and he has done this before, and suddenly he is afraid.

when he did this before, he was left something else. he is afraid of what will happen the next time. what will happen to him, what might become of him, because what he is now terrifies his reflection, and he has no idea what it'll do.

"please! please! please!"

but you're crying, and you taste so good. and as he laves into the prettiest pussy he's ever had, the sweetest, he remembers why he is here. he isn't here because he loves you. he isn't here because he cares, he isn't here because it is good.

he is here because whatever he is needs a new host, and you are what it wants. soft, pretty, naïve--you have let it inside, and now he will eat and chew and bite until he sucks something out of you.

maybe the good. maybe blood. but it doesn't matter.

he slides his hands back down, using both thumbs to spread your folds apart, and he pulls back to look at you. you're a sloppy mess, your little hole puckering and pulsing, your clit a throbbing bud that begs him to stop teasing. he looks up at where you're a whimpering, crying thing, tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, and he snarls before he leans down and spits right on your clit, watching it drip into your cunt and swirl between what seeps from you.

"say it."

"nnh...huh?"

"say who you belong to."

when you take a moment to answer, he leans down and licks a fat stripe over your clit, making you sob. you reach down, cupping the underside of his jaw. it's bare, and your soft hands glide over the scarred skin there. it is the first time he doesn't flinch.

"you--you!"

"say it."

"b-belong to you..."

the moonlight is blue when he makes you come. his lips wrap around your clit and suckle soft, and when he knows you're coming, he opens his mouth, hinging a strong jaw so he can swallow what drips from you and take in mouthfuls of it. there is a glare over you, a blue light that shines over your sweaty, shivering body, and ghost nearly bites.

as if the blue eyes he can't keep out of his head, the blue eyes that follow him everywhere he goes, are mocking him for taking the thing he knows he shouldn't have. he's telling him to leave you. that there's still time to let you go. that what he has in his hands, what he has at his mercy, is too soft and too pretty and too gentle to be touched by what he will bring to her doorstep.

you sit up on your elbows, half-lidded, face wet with your tears. ghost almost believes the blue that washes over you, but then his eyes meet yours, and it is over. you're smiling.

this is acceptance. because you know what he is. you know what he does. the gun on him is real. the black in his eyes isn't a trick of the light. the poison spreading in his veins isn't just a sickness, it is a cancer, and this will kill him, and it is contagious.

you cup his face, bringing him up, letting him crowd the space between your legs as he leans over you.

he would care. he wants to care. and when he kisses you, sealing your fate, he remembers, suddenly. the blue moonlight is gone.

and this isn't real.

[ciel-yuu]

"I have something for you."

Scene: You are sitting bored when suddenly remember a trend in the Human World. It is intentionally saying that you have something for them and then rummaging through your pocket and them giving them a heart shape from your thumb and index finger. You get up and immediately go find him to try.

Pairing: The Demon Brothers x gn!reader. Warning: None

==

Lucifer

You run to his room and politely knock on his office door before entering because you know Lucifer will get angry if you barge in. You are not very interested in being punished right now.

"What's wrong, MC?"

He looks up when you walk in, still holding a fountain pen, mentally preparing to go back and finish the paperwork after he's done with you.

You walk up to his desk with an amused face that makes him raise his eyebrows slightly, he's suspecting that you're up to something no good.

"I have something for you!"

He watches intently as you begin to carefully rummage through the inside pocket of your jacket, braced for some curse or magical device you might throw at him.

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you!"

He was totally taken aback by this, he was prepared for something more of a prank, he couldn't have guessed that you will give him something as adorable as this. The cuteness from your smiling face and the small heart in your hand makes him feel like he is being overloaded with cuteness. You truly are the death of him.

"Oh Luci, are you blushing?"

He doesn't realize he's blushing but you do and of course you have to poke fun at him because seeing The Avatar of Pride blush is not an easy thing to do.

You giggled while turning your head to run away when he noticed.

Catch you before you can run out of the room and make you stay in his office with him for the rest of the day because of this. (And he wants to spend time with you too)

Mammon

You burst into his room causing Mammon to jump from his sofa in shock and look out the door in a panic, when he saw you were the one to rush in he let out a breath of relieved.

"Why did ya barge into my room like that?! I thought you were Lucifer!"

This makes you roll your eyes slightly because he's obviously the one who often bursts into your room without even knocking.

He was about to nag you again when you ran up to him with an amused smile on your face, it made him just shut up, how can he continue nagging you when you smile like that!

"I have something for you!"

He looks at you rummaging through your pocket with an excited look, thinking you're going to give him something precious. (Actually, as long as it is your gift, he will think it is precious.)

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you!"

Blushing and starting to stutter when you show him your heart finger with a big smile. Telling you stammeringly that he will accept your love so you should be honored when the Great Mammon takes it.

You pretend to put it back in your pocket to tease him saying you've reconsidered and don't want to give it anymore. This make Mammon quickly grabs your hand and tells you that once you give it to him, you can't take it back!

He blushes a second time because he realizes he's holding your hand now but won't let go for fear you'll want to pull it back again. The fact that you giggle and call him cute doesn't really help much.

Hold your hand and don't let go for the rest of the day while you both watch movies in his room all day. He wants to be near you as much as possible especially after you give him such an adorable gift ^^!

Leviathan

You knock on Levi's door and after reading the password he lets you in. You see him sitting on the floor playing game.

"MC, do you want to play along? I just bought some new two-player games!"

He happily tells you when he sees you walk in, only to be surprised to see that you are smiling the same big smile and walking quickly in front of him causing him to quickly blush.

"I have something for you!"

Pause the game and look at you curiously as you start rummaging through your coat pocket.

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you!"

Leviathan.exe has stopped working.

How can you be so cute?? It overloaded his little otaku heart you know?! Are you trying to kill him with love? If you are, then it's working because his heart is beating so fast it could fly out of his chest and come hug you!

Blushing fiercely while stammering how a useless and introverted otaku like him is worthy of your love before being interrupted by you saying that you are the one to decide who is worthy and you see how great he is.

Crying out of happiness and wondering how he can have someone as amazing as you by his side.

He give you a handmade Henry plushie as a thank you <3.

Satan

He's sitting in the library when you go to find him, a thick book in his hand. He seems to be aware of your presence as he immediately looks up as you push through the door and greets you with a gentle smile.

"MC, you seem to have come across something funny, don't you?"

He commented when he saw your grin face, from his point of view you now look like a cat that just stole something precious and brought it to its owner to show off.

"I have something for you!"

Eyebrows raised in amusement as you rummaged through your pocket and closed the book that he were reading after putting the bookmark in. He has a feeling that what you are going to show him will be much more interesting than this book.

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you!"

Thump

That is the sound of the Avatar of Wrath's heart skipping a beat at the cuteness of the human before him. You really know how to make him fall in love with you deeper dont you? But he didn't complain either.

He gives you a sweet smile and takes your hand gently, thanking you for the wonderful gift, that he'll cherish it and placing a light kiss on the back of your hand.

He invites you to go on a date with him at the cat cafe as a thank you for your lovely gift.

Asmodeus

You go to his room and find him sitting reading a magazine by his dressing table. He gives you a lovely smile when he sees you coming to his room.

"MC! I'm glad that you came to see me hon, I'm starting to get bored."

You nodded and happily walked over to him. Your happy smile makes him happy too because he knows it's your "I have something very interesting" smile.

"I have something for you!"

"Oh what is it?"

He watches you rummage through your pocket excitedly, trying to guess what it will be when he finds you searching for a long time in your coat pocket. Is it perfume or some magic item that Solomon gave you?

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you!"

Squeal! He squeal happily before rushing to hug you in a tight hug. Why are you so cute! This is truly the cutest gift in the world!

Fill your face with little kisses while thanking you for this sweet gift. Tell you that he'll appreciate it and that he loves you too. Love you very much - he said while rubbing his face against your cheek.

Posting on Devilgram to brag to everyone about his human cuteness.

Take you shopping with him right after, let him spoil you all day as a thank you gift MC!

Beelzebub

Beel is emptying the fridge for the nth time of the day when you run to find him. As soon as he heard someone coming, he quickly turned his head thinking that you were Lucifer, but when he saw that the person coming was you, he immediately greeted you with a small smile.

"Oh MC, did you come here to get some snacks too?"

You shook your head and walked up to him with a cheerful face.

"No, I have something for you Beel!"

He looks at you curiously as you start rummaging through your pockets, he doesn't smell any food so he can't guess what you're going to give him. But for Beel, he's happy to receive a gift from you, so he doesn't really care what it is, as long as you're the one giving it, he likes it all.

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you!"

Beel will blush and almost drop the dish in his hand when he sees you pull out the little heart in your hand with a sweet smile for him. And in an instant you're wrapped in a warm embrace by this giant orange teddy, who spins you around for a moment before dropping you off.

Put on the sweetest smile in the world and take your hand seriously, telling you that he appreciates your gift and promises to protect it well.

He won't let go of your hand and hold your hand all day protecting it (and you) like he promised.

He'll invite you out for a meal at Hell's Kitchen as a thank you ^^!

Belphego

You find him sleeping soundly in his bed in the attic. Everyone knows that whenever the Avatar of Sloth sleep he won't wake up even if there's an earthquake, so it takes you a long time to wake him up.

At first he was quite annoyed at being woken up but it quickly disappeared when he realized the person who woke him up was you.

"Ah…so you're the one who called me up MC. What's wrong?"

His sleepy face makes you chuckle and pat his head a bit before backing away a little with a grin.

"I have something for you!"

He slowly sits up when he sees your smile, something he knows usually shows up when you're about to tease him. When he sees you start rummaging through your pocket, he thinks maybe you have a new toy from Thirteen or something.

"Ta-da! It's my little love for you"

Blink in surprise at your cheerful smile and the heart of your finger then giggle. You're just too cute for your own good, making him want to keep you in the attic so no one can see your cuteness but him.

Taking your hand and pulling you down to the bed, he said he would gladly accept your gift and that he would keep it forever and then hugged you tightly.

Congratulations, you've captured the sloth demon's heart and your reward is a nap with him. You won't be able to escape his iron grip anytime soon so making yourself comfortable is the best thing you can do right now.

If you're not sleepy, his warm hug and soft hum will also put you to sleep quickly.

Whisper softly he loves you when he saw you fell asleep with a gentle smile and fell asleep soon after to meet you in the dream world <3

==

master list | thanks for reading ^^!

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream as when you fangirl over other kpop groups.

Mark Lee

He'll be glad to have his seniors sign your albums. It's fun to see that you fangirl over EXO and sometimes he would even join you too. But sometimes it concerns him because you're in the member's solo concerts, you constantly talk about them 24/7, and you even have a photocard collection of your bias. "I'm still your number one right?" Mark asked one day, and you have to assure him that you have boundaries as a fangirl. 

Huang Renjun

Renjun doesn't question why you like Seventeen. I mean, they're an all-rounder group. He often joins you in watching Going Seventeen, and it's fun to see your reaction when you discovered that he's close with some of the members. Renjun's very supportive of your fangirling and even gifted you an album with all the SVT members signed it. "Of course, anything for you love." he said, giving you a kiss. 

Lee Jeno

Jeno will wonder what's the hype about Riize when he caught you watching their music videos. Listen, their his juniors but he's a bit protective of you, even to his members. You assure him that you just like their music but when he caught you squealing over a photo of a Riize member, oh he'll be very clingy to you. "I should warn them that they should stay away from my girlfriend." You have to lecture your boyfriend to not scare his juniors. 

Lee Donghyuck

It'll confuse the hell out of him when you randomly asked if he can ask Ateez to sign your album. He's not even close with any Ateez members, and why! are! you! fangirling! over! other! kpop! groups!? but because you're practically giving him a puppy eye, he doesn't have the conscience to say no to you. "You're glad that I can't say no to you," he said. Don't worry, the moment he gave you the signed album, you showered him with love and kisses. 

Na Jaemin

Jaemin was a bit hesitant. Sure they're his seniors, but Jaemin just doesn't know how to approach Red Velvet without looking like a weirdo. But for his girlfriend, he will do anything! You've been a fan of Red Velvet since their debut, so it's meaningful for you to receive a signed album from them. The Velvet members squealed at how a sweet boyfriend Jaemin was, gladly accepting his request. "Anything to make her happy," Jaemin replies with a smile. 

Zhong Chenle

"You want to what?" Your boyfriend asked, confused. You've been a fan of Stray Kids lately, and then you remembered that Chenle is close with them. You ask your boyfriend if they can sign a merchandise that you bought. "Okay, do you want to meet one of the members too?" he asked, fishing out his phone. Of course, he'll be supportive and will be happy to see his close friends meet the love of his life. 

Park Jisung

He'll be in RELIEF that you're a fangirl of Aespa but he'll start sweating when you asked him if he can have the members signed an album you bought. He's awkward around girls and the only girl he feels comfortable around is you, so this is a huge challenge for him. But because he can't say no to you, he has to muster up the courage to approach Aespa even with a blushing ears. "It's for my girlfriend by the way..." he mumbled, looking away embarrassed. 

[kinzis-writing]

Better than Revenge | M.R [3]

Going along with a plan was easy right? After all it was fake, and basically just a show for everyone to watch. So, why was Y/N starting to question if the plan was a good idea.

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettleby.

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol, partying, smoking, mentions of cheating, soft! Mattheo, mentions of loss of virginity. Plot twist maybe?

iii. "you knew you won, so what’s the point of keeping score"

Chapter Two

*Not edited (grammar or spell check), I'll go back and do that later.*

It had been 4 weeks since Y/N and Mattheo had started their plan. A whole month of spending time together and now acting like a couple without labels. It was safe to say that all of Hogwarts was in shock to see the two become a couple. Of course a select few, like the golden trio, knew exactly what was happening. Everyone else, was surprised that Mattheo had tied himself down to one girl, that his attention had solely been on Y/N Nettlby and her Gryffindor glory.

"That's not right," Y/N stated softly as she got up from her chair that was across from Mattheo and moved to one that was beside of him. She quietly pulled the seat closer to him before marking out what he had done and fixed it in a way he'd understand. "It should be easier like that. You can remember the spell easier that way." she had moved her gaze back up to his face noticing that he was watching her instead of what she wrote the whole time.

"I don't need help," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm behind but I know the stuff." he shrugged as he laid his quil down on the parchment in front of him.

"Then why have me tutor you?" She asked him quietly, her eyes never leaving his. Y/N thought they were having a sweet moment, something that happened often between them. Her line was starting to blur between faux moments and real moments.

"have to keep my reputation, love." he spoke breaking the moment that she thought they were having.

Y/N scoffed lightly pulling back from their close proximity, "Then why did you agree to this plan? It definitely ruins your rep." she told him as she crossed her arms.

Mattheo shrugged as he leaned back in his seat, "Doesn't ruin it, I haven't been with anyone in awhile." he mumbled nonchalantly as he returned his gaze to his homework.

Y/N ignored his comment and carefully got up and made her way back to her original seat. She was gathering her items and shoving them in her bag as it was getting time head back to the common room, the prefects and filch would be out patrolling the halls and no one wanted to lose house points.

"hey, there's a party tonight in the Slytherin common room." Mattheo started as he grabbed his work and stood up following the girl's lead. "You should come, it'll prove how "serious" this is." He explained as he looped her arm over the Gryffindor's shoulder.

Y/N rolled her eyes slightly and looked up at the boy as they left the library. "I don't fancy losing house points trying to sneak into my fake boyfriend's party." she muttered as they arrived to the portrait.

The Slytherin boy rolled his eyes, "I'll be right here waiting for you in thirty minutes." He told her before squeezing her hand and walking back down towards the Slytherin's common room.

The Gryffindor girl groaned before saying the password and walking into the common room. Quickly going up to the dormitories to change into a party dress. She knew which one she was going to wear, it would work perfectly for a Slytherin party. Her mother had bought her an emerald green dress, every year. So she wouldn’t forget what family she came from.

She had never attended Slytherin’s parties with Theodore, so this was all new to her. Not knowing how casual or dressed up to be. She laid her dress on the bed before heading towards the bathroom and doing her hair and makeup in the way that seemed fit.

When houses three parties, everyone was invited. It was the only time that houses willingly hung out together, but they stilled seemed to stay in their groups. Unless, they were planning on hooking up for the night. Y/N knew that she would probably run into Ginny and a few other Gryffindors there. Hermione was less likely to be there, often going to the library or being into her studies.

Y/N had rushed down the stairs and out of the dormitories before she could be stopped. Not wanting to talk to anyone right now, just wanting to get to Mattheo and head to the dreaded party.

“You ready?” Y/N asked Mattheo once she noticed his figure outside of the Gryffindor common room. “I wasn’t sure exactly what to wear.” Mattheo’s eyes looked her up and down, almost like he was soaking in what she looked like. “I can go change if I’m underdressed or overdressed?” She suggested when he still had yet to say anything.

“No,” he shook his head. His hand slipping into hers instinctively. “You look great, just didn’t expect you to be in green s’all.” He mumbled clearing his throat after.

Mattheo had successfully gotten them to the Slytherin common room without running into anyone on the way. Y/N rolled her eyes at the common room password before she was led through the silencing spell barrier. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke enveloped her senses, the music pounding off the walls. Multiple houses joined together, either dancing, playing games, or making out.

“This isn’t my scene.” Y/N mumbled to Mattheo as they pushed their way through some people and headed towards the corner.

The Riddle boy gave her hand a small squeeze as they ended up in the corner. There were couches and seats there, his friend group all gathered around each other. Draco was with Pansy, Enzo sat with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle sat on one, and Theo and his new girlfriend together.

“Finally, started to think you bailed.” Draco spoke to Mattheo. Mattheo rolled his eyes, sitting down and gently putting Y/N in his lap and helping her get comfortable.

“Now, cousin, you know me better than that.” Mattheo replied, pulling Y/N into him so help her relax a bit better. It had been a month of this and she still could not wrap her head around it. He casually placed his hand on her knee while the other one was resting on the couch arm behind her back.

Pansy whispered something to Draco before standing up, “I’m going to get drinks,” she announced before turning around and facing the new couple. “Y/N why don’t you come with me?” She asked.

Y/N glanced at Mattheo, who nodded, before she stood up and gave her a small smile. She agreed following the Slytherin girl through the crowd. “Hope I didn’t come off strong,” Pansy laughed a bit. “We don’t know each other and seeing as you’ve settled Mattheo down. I think we should hang out some.”

Y/N gave a soft but nervous smile unsure of what to say. “Yeah, it just happened.” She shrugged to the Slytherin girl as they fixed drinks.

“Not your scene?” Pansy asked when she noticed the Gryffindor looking around. “Is that why you never came around with Theo?”

Y/N shrugged thinking about the question for a minute. “I just, my relationship with Theo was different than mine and Mattheo’s.” She spoke honestly. There was major differences, the main one being one was real and the other is fake. To prove to everyone that she was fine. To be honest, it was working well. She had no feelings for Theodore left, all she felt was a bit of betrayal but she was officially over it.

“I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.” Pansy spoke as she nodded over to the couches the pair came from. Y/N turned and was met with Mattheo’s gaze on her from across the room. She sent him a small smile before turning back to face Pansy. “You must be special to him.”

Y/N let out a small laugh with the shake of her head. “I think we’re just having fun right now.” She lied as she helped Pansy grab the boys drinks.

“You might want to tell him that.” She suggested before leading the way back over to the friend group. She handed Draco and Enzo their drinks before sitting down with hers. Y/N carefully held the other drink in her hand out to Mattheo but settling back down on his lap. “I approve, Matt.” The Parkinson girl spoke looking between the newest couple of the group. “It’s good to have a new girl around.”

Y/N gave her a small smile as Mattheo smirked. He placed a soft kiss on the side of her head before taking a drink of the alcohol. Theodore's eyes burned through the couple as they engaged in conversation with Draco, Pansy, and Enzo. His head could not wrap around his best friend being with his ex-girlfriend, and her hanging out with his friends. She never wanted anything to do with his friends when they were together, and he did not see how Mattheo got her to hang out with them.

"What do you say?" Blaise broke Theo out of his thoughts as everyone was staring at the Nott boy and waiting for his reply. "You up for truth or dare?"

"Course." Theodore nodded as his arm settled around his new girlfriend.

Y/N leaned back against the arm rest of the couch again to get comfortable. She had heard stories of how deep their games get, and her anxiety was growing. She did not know what to expect or what she should watch out for. Enzo got up and got an empty alcohol bottle and placed it on the table in front of them. Pansy had volunteered to go first, so she gave the bottle a spin.

"Y/N," She smiled. "truth or dare?"

Y/N gave the girl a nervous smile before feeling Mattheo give her knee a squeeze. "dare." she spoke confidently with all the eyes on her.

"You're new here," Pansy started her sentence with a thoughtful look on her face. "I'll go easy... for now. I dare you to tell Mattheo the thing that annoys you the most about him."

Y/N shrugged and turned to look at the guy who's lap she was sat on. "Easy, the smoking." She spoke nonchalantly wrapping her arm around the back of his neck. "It's easy to ignore but that's it." Her hand instinctively playing with the hair on the back of his head.

Y/N leaned forward and twisted the bottle, and it stopped on Enzo. "Dare." The boy spoke up before the Nettleby girl could ask.

"Go ask that Ravenclaw girl out." Y/N dared Enzo knowing how he felt about his potions partner. Enzo gave the girl a look before standing up and going over to the group of girls that his crush was in. He talked to them and left smiling.

Enzo went to grab the bottle and give it a spin, when the last two of the friend group joined, sitting beside Mattheo and Y/N. Sean Nettleby and his girlfriend had decided to join their friends. After making sure that the newly added couple was playing, Enzo gave the bottle a spin and the game continued from there.

The game continued for many more rounds, until it was Veronica's, who Y/N had learned was Theo's new girlfriends name, turn. The girl had been snarky and rude towards the Nettlby girl all night, but everyone seemed to ignore it besides Mattheo, Sean, and Enzo. Veronica gave the bottle a good spin, the bottle unfortunately landing on Y/N when it stopped.

Y/N pressed her nerves down while she noticed the Slytherin's eyes darken and a smirk grow on her face. "Y/N, truth or dare." She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

Sean's eyes narrowed at the girl beside of him slightly, sensing that she was playing at a game. Mattheo's arms wrapped tighter around the girl in his lap, while Y/N's stomach churned thinking of her choices. "truth." she answered, with what she thought was a safer answer than dare.

"What's the real reason you and Theo broke up?" She asked with a smirk.

Y/N's raised her eyebrows in question before shrugging, "Theo broke up with me after he cheated on me with you." She muttered not showing any of her emotions.

Veronica's smirk grew, if that was even possible. "The real reason though? You're excluding the fact that you're a prude." She spoke noticing how Y/N's emotionless state dropped. "How I could fulfill his needs that you refused to give him."

"Roni-" Theo spoke causing the girl to turn her attention to her boyfriend.

"I'm done with this." Y/N muttered before standing up and hurriedly making her way through the crowd to get out of the Slytherin common room as fast as possible.

Enzo glanced around the group noticing Draco and Blaise sniggering about. Probably the fact that it was obvious that the innocent, good girl, Gryffindor, was just that. Also, the fact that her brother is her polar opposite. "Do you pride yourself on taking someone's boyfriend?" Enzo asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

Veronica shrugged, her same smirk on her face that she had worn for the last few moments. No one knew how to carry on the conversation, Enzo was angry, Mattheo had ran off, Sean was fixing to fight Theo for his choices, and Blaise, Draco, and Pansy needed to get over themselves.

Y/N was almost to the Gryffindor common room when she heard her name being called. Instead of turning around to face the voice, she kept walking hoping they would give up. She knew Mattheo though, he never stopped until he got what he wanted.

"Y/N!" He spoke again, this time within reach to grab her arm and stop her from walking. "Would you stop walking and let me speak with you."

Y/N stopped walking, the tears in her eyes almost falling as she turned around to look at the Riddle boy. "I do not want to talk to anyone right now, especially you." she whispered as the boy stepped closer.

"You didn't tell him?" Mattheo asked quietly, not wanting to startle the girl who was on the verge of breaking down.

Y/N shook her head as she tried to blink the tears of embarrassment away. "How do you tell your boyfriend that you felt comfortable enough to lose your virginity to your best friend, but you don't want to do that with him?" She asked carefully not knowing how he would take the information. "I played it off like I had never done anything before."

Mattheo searched the girl's face for something, anything, that would let him know how she felt. "You could have told him the truth."

Y/N shook her head, her anxiety becoming worse. "No one knows our past, Teo." She whispered bringing back his old nickname that he loved. "I thought you hated me after because you turned a cold shoulder, so I just played it off like nothing happened."

Mattheo shook his head, trying to go over every move he made after that. "I didn't hate you." he muttered.

"Could've fooled me." Y/N mumbled before turning around without another word and going to the Gryffindor common room, leaving a slightly hurt Mattheo behind.

Part four

Tag list: @yoichiislovie @justhavingsomefun1 @julesandro @prongsprincessworld @bruher @mattiesgirl @lafrone

[babybluebex]

𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your father, jason carver, promises you one thing and can’t deliver it to you. you decide to get back at him and it him where it really hurts: eddie munson. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: older!eddie munson x carver&cunningham!daughter!reader (READER IS JASON AND CHRISSY’S DAUGHTER) 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: age gap (reader is 18, eddie is 56), brat!reader, mentions of birth control, genital piercings, smut (MINORS DNI): p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, blowjobs, slapping, choking, pain kink, praise kink, master kink, daddy kink 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the plot here establishes reader as the biological daughter of chrissy and jason, which does imply reader to be white, but that is in no way to say anyone isn’t more than welcome to read this. shared features of reader to her parents are mentioned (ears/smile?) though they are limited. i just wanted anyone who may be off put by this to know before they get into any of the reading, so they can choose to read or not if that’s something that would take them out of their emersion <3

Why the fuck were you here? The trailer park was dark and quiet in the nighttime, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you walked from your car to the front door of the trailer. You kept repeating it to yourself— what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— as you knocked on the door of the trailer, and you heard a rustling from inside as the occupant moved around. You had certainly woken him up, and your palms felt sweaty. You were being stupid. You should just turn around and apologize to your father and forget the entire thing, but, just as you were turning on your heel to get back into your car, the door flew open. 

“Umm,” the older man started. “Can I help you?” 

You sighed. You knew Eddie Munson from a distance, solely as the mechanic who worked on your car from time to time— time to time meant at least once a month because, even though your dad had bought you a nice car for your 18th birthday present, he hadn’t bought you a good car. The cherry-red Porsche sat behind you, the very same car that Eddie fixed often, and he peered over your shoulder at it. “Is something wrong with your car?” he asked. “It couldn’t wait ‘til the shop opened at 8?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong with my car,” you mumbled. “Well… Actually, it’s started making this weird noise when I start it up, but that’s— That’s for later. No, um, my dad’s pissed me off super bad tonight, and I just, umm, figured you could… help…? Maybe?”

“Your dad, huh?” Eddie asked. He leaned back inside the trailer for a moment, and you nearly thought he would slam the door in your face, but all he did was grab a green-and-white carton of Newports and a lighter. He slotted a cigarette between his lips and gestured at you to talk, and you watched his tattooed fingers flick the Zippo and light up his cigarette before you swallowed thickly. “What’s he done?”

“Well, um,” you started. “Do you know who my dad is?” 

“No clue, sweetheart,” Eddie said. He blew out a mouthful of smoke and plucked the cigarette from between his lips, and he rubbed his big hand down his salt-and-pepper facial-haired chin. “Who is he?” 

“Jason Carver,” you said slowly. “You went to high school together?” 

“Carver,” Eddie spat. “Yeah, I remember Carver.” He crossed his arms, the sleeves of his wrinkled shirt tightening around his muscles, and you bit your lip as his tattooed skin pulled with it. Eddie had tattoos everywhere, on his neck and arms and hands and fingers, behind his ear and on his throat, and you wondered exactly where else he had tattoos. “He made my life a living hell.” 

“Yeah, he’s doing the same thing to me,” you grumbled. 

“No way, wait,” Eddie laughed incredulously. “You’re Carver’s daughter? The valedictorian, captain of the cheer team, that’s you?”

“Well, jeez, don’t make fun of me,” you pouted. “How do you know that?” For all that Eddie seemed to know about you, you knew very little about him: he had a smoking problem and an ex-wife problem, you were sure of that, but anything else was a mystery to you. 

“Heard it around town,” Eddie shrugged. “I didn’t think that Carver could make something as pretty as you. You don’t even have his big ears or anything.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you covered your mouth as you smiled. “Dad does have big ears,” you said softly. You almost missed how Eddie had complimented you, and you pushed your hair behind your ear as you chewed your lip. “But Dad’s fucked up, and I’m really pissed.” 

“What did he do?” Eddie asked, puffing on his cigarette again. “Took away your vape or something?” 

“I’m not that shallow,” you huffed. “It’s just that… It’s a little stupid. I mean, it’s a lot stupid, it’s the stupidest thing in the world, but, umm, I have a bunch of friends that are going to Paris for their graduation trip, and Dad said that I could go, but, tonight, he just hit me with this whole thing of, like, ‘oh, it’s too expensive, we just bought you the Porsche’, but I didn’t ask for the Porsche and he told me I could go before he even bought me the stupid car, and I’m just—”

“Hey, easy,” Eddie said, reaching out and putting a hand on your shoulder. “Take a breath. So, he told you that you could go on this trip, but now he’s saying you can’t?”

“And he promised me!” you whined. “He said I could go, but now he’s-he’s being such a dick! He said that he can’t afford the trip and the car, but I didn’t even want the car in the first place! It’s not fair!” 

“Oh, sweetheart, calm down,” Eddie said, and he steered you into his trailer, shutting the door with his foot once you had crossed in. The trailer was messy but clean, smelling like laundry soap and cigarette smoke, and Eddie fell back onto his couch and patted the empty space next to him, inviting you down. You knew that, once you sat next to him, your plan would fully be in motion, and your heart beat quickly. “C’mon, sit down, tell me all about it.”

“Aren’t you angry I’m bothering you this late?” you mumbled. 

“Not angry,” Eddie said. “I’m just… Your dad pretty much ruined my life in high school, and it’s petty of me, but I wanna make sure you know that you’re not alone. Your dad’s been a bully since day one, and it’s not fair, you’re right. If he promised you something like this and then rolled back his promise, that’s not fair. But, sweetheart, I mean this in the nicest way, but you’re also acting like a huge fuckin’ brat.” 

“I am not!” you said quickly. “You just said it, you agree it’s not fair!” 

“Yeah, but why’re you here?” Eddie asked. “You couldn’t, like, call one of your friends to cry about it? You had to come to me? Baby, I was asleep, it’s one in the fucking morning.” 

“Well, God, sorry it took me so long to get ready!” you snapped.

“Get ready for what?” Eddie asked. “Don’t tell me you did all of this—” he wagged his finger up and down your body, obviously talking about your dress and shaved legs and perfect makeup, “Just to come out to the trailer park to talk to me.”

“Alright, I won’t tell you,” you said quickly. Eddie’s eyes widened for a moment, and he started to ruefully laugh, pushing himself up from the couch. 

“I see what this is,” he said. “You’re pissed at your dad, so you think that if you, I don’t know, sleep with me or something, you’ll be getting back at him. Right?” He looked at you, and you clenched your back teeth. He had hit the nail directly on the head, but you didn’t want to give yourself away that easily. What’s the fun in that?

“I just wanted to talk to someone else who understands how awful my dad is,” you spat. “I’m not a slut, Mr. Munson! And you’re more than twice my age, probably three times my age, I bet you can’t even fuck anymore anyway! As if I’d wanna fuck a freak like you!” 

“A freak, huh?” Eddie said. “Apple fell in a straight line from the tree.” 

“Fuck you,” you seethed. Now he was seriously making you mad. “I am nothing like my dad.” 

“Oh, really?” Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes. “‘Cause all I see in front of me is a little princess who’s throwing a tantrum ‘cause she didn’t get her way. Aw, the rich girl can’t go to Paris with her friends ‘cause Daddy bought her a Porsche? Boo-fucking-hoo, cry me a river, sweetheart. Your dad got everything he ever wanted, and you’re exactly like him.” 

“Fuck you,” you said again, and hot tears needled at your eyes. No. No crying in front of him. Absolutely not. 

“Is that all you can think about?” Eddie asked. “Fucking me?” 

You huffed and stood up, stepping forward to leave and to try to forget the entire interaction, but Eddie’s inked hand shot out and grabbed your arm. His grip was tight, his eyes dark and hard, and he rolled his cigarette in-between his lips. “Wait just a second, baby,” Eddie said. “Listen, you are being a little princess and a brat and a total pain in the ass, but… I’d be lying if I told you that you weren’t a pretty little thing. Sometimes I wonder how Carver’s daughter could be so pretty, then I remember you’re also Chrissy’s kid. God, baby, I had such a crush on your mom in high school.” 

“Ew,” you sneered. “You’re gonna fuck me ‘cause I look like my mom?” 

“No,” Eddie said. “I’m gonna fuck you ‘cause I know it’ll make your dad so angry, it’ll probably kill him.” 

“So you are gonna fuck me?” you asked. 

“You’re 18?” Eddie asked, and you nodded. “Show me your license.” 

“I’m not lying,” you said, but Eddie raised his eyebrows at you. “Fuck, fine.” You tugged your wallet out of a pocket on your jacket and flipped it to show him your driver’s license, and he scoured it until he found your birthday. Eighteen, as of five months ago. Questionable, sure, but not illegal.  

“Are you on the pill?” Eddie asked next, and he shifted to stub out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. 

“Yeah,” you said, then hesitated before you added, “And I brought condoms.” 

“Of course you did,” Eddie chuckled. “This was your plan all along, huh? I fuckin’ knew it.” 

“Okay, can you blame me?” you asked. “I just… I’m really pissed at him, and I know how badly you wanna get back at him too.” 

“You don’t have to convince me anymore, baby,” Eddie said. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” 

“Virginity is such bullshit,” you said. “It’s a social construct meant to cage and restrain people—”

“You can knock it off with the morality lesson, kid,” Eddie said, and you felt a gush of wetness cover your thighs. Why did him calling you kid turn you on so badly? “‘Cause I’m not fucking you if you’ve never had sex before.” 

“I-I have,” you stuttered, and your cheeks flamed with embarrassment as Eddie raised his eyebrows at you. “I have!”

“What was his name?” Eddie asked. 

“You wouldn’t know him,” you said quickly, and Eddie laughed. 

“His name, baby,” Eddie said. “If you’ve fucked a guy before, you should be able to tell me his name.” 

“John Sinclair,” you said finally, after a few long moments of silence. 

Eddie started for a moment. “Sinclair?” he said. “Lucas’s kid?” 

“Oh, God, don’t tell me you know his dad too,” you groaned. 

“We all went to high school together,” Eddie explained. “Sinclair was in my DnD club. Is Max this John kid’s mom?” 

“Yeah, his mom’s named Maxine,” you said. “What’s DnD?”

“Way to make me feel old,” Eddie mumbled. “If I go up to him and ask him if you guys have fucked, he’ll say yes?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “He will, I promise. It was right after prom last year, he was my friend’s date—”

“Oh, wow,” Eddie laughed. “Fucking the friend’s date, not even your own. Jesus Christ, you’re just used to getting what you want, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“No, baby,” Eddie grinned. “Guess I can’t.”

And with that, he leaned down and grabbed you by the sides of your face, and he kissed you. You squeaked with the taste of him, all cigarettes and skin and man, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders, letting him slide his tongue between your glossy lips. Sure, John had been nice to you and respected you when he had taken your virginity in the back of his car, but you didn’t want Eddie to respect you. You wanted him to fuck you, to leave bruises and hickies that your dad would see and ask about. You wanted Eddie to take out 40 years of anger against your dad on you. “Mr. Munson,” you gasped, your tits swelling with breath and pressing against his chest. “Fuck me, please.” 

“I will, princess,” Eddie said softly. His hands fell from your face and traveled down to your hips, stopping for a moment to squeeze and paw at your tits, and he finally rucked up your dress and huffed out a laugh. “No panties? And you say you’re not a slut.” 

“I’m not,” you whined, and Eddie laughed. 

“Seems like you are,” Eddie said. “Coming to my place, chasing older cock just to make your dad upset. Sure seems like something a slut would do.” 

“I’m not a slut,” you told him, but you were struck quiet when his big, inked hand cupped your wet pussy, letting his middle finger pass along your slit. 

“So fucking wet,” Eddie whispered. “You like to fight, don’t you? Gets you all hot and bothered, huh?” 

“All the better for you,” you replied, and Eddie landed a kiss on your neck. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ better for me,” Eddie said. “You’re gonna be so good, I know it. Get on the bed, baby, take off your dress.” 

You toed out of your sneakers and did as he told you, traveling to the back of the trailer to a half-open door. You pushed it open and looked at the room for a moment— clothes everywhere, a vintage guitar hanging on the wall— before you focused on the large bed, and you sat down and smoothed your skirt over your thighs. Eddie followed you in, kicking the door closed, and his hand drifted down to his crotch, palming himself through his plaid pajama bottoms. “I told you to take off your dress,” he said. 

“I want you to do it,” you said. “Daddy.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie asked. “Girl’s got daddy issues, huh?”

“F’course I do,” you shrugged. “Look at who my dad is.” 

“I don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “All I wanna look at is your pretty little face as I pound into you. Or maybe I wanna look at the back of your head. I haven’t decided yet.” 

“Better make up your mind quick,” you told him, slipping off your jean jacket and dropping it on the edge of the bed. “As long as you mark me up.” 

“You want marks?” Eddie asked. “You want all those hickies and marks and everything? Want me to be rough with ya?” 

“Yeah,” you told him, slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulders slowly, teasingly. “As rough as you want.” 

“What if I don’t wanna be rough?” Eddie asked. He knelt on the bed, his big thighs caging around your waist, the bulge in his pants inches from your face, and your mouth watered at the smell of him. “What if I just wanna treat you nice and be all gentle and cute with you?” 

“You don’t want that,” you told him. “You wanna ruin me.” 

“I sure do,” Eddie said. “You suck cock good?” 

“Not really,” you mumbled. “Only ever done it once before.” 

“John?” Eddie asked, and you nodded. “And that kid was probably just happy to have your mouth on his dick, he wouldn’t tell you if you were doing bad. Want me to teach you?” 

“Just want you inside me,” you told him. Eddie was holding his dick now, and the shadow of it inside his pants was driving you crazy. The outline was big, intimidatingly so, and you reached out and hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants, tugging it down to let his cock free. He was half-hard, his cock extra-thick and heavy, the thatch of hair at the base showing grey and black, just like the long curls that he pushed behind his shoulder. His balls were thick too, hanging deliciously, and you sucked your lip between your teeth as your mouth watered even more. You had never had the desire to suck dick before, not even with John— you had really only done it because he asked for you to— but something about Eddie’s thick, cut length made a fire erupt in your belly. 

“What’s this?” you asked, your eyes locking on a small silver ball protruding from the head of his cock. “Is your… Do you have a…?” 

“It’s called a Prince Albert,” Eddie explained. “Got it so long ago… You probably weren’t even alive yet.” 

“Did it hurt?” you asked, cringing slightly at the thought of it. 

“A little,” Eddie shrugged. “But it looks good, doesn’t it?” 

“Looks really good,” you mumbled. “Looks… Looks really yummy.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie chuckled. “You wanna suck it?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, and you instantly wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, feeling the warmth of the metal ball bearing of the piercing against your tongue. Eddie jolted, his cock throbbing in your mouth, and a tattooed hand grabbed at your hair quickly. 

“Fuck, baby!” Eddie laughed. “Gettin’ right to it, huh?”

You nodded, letting your tongue swirl along the piercing greedily, and you took more of him in your mouth, feeling him harden in the soft warmth of your mouth. He took a heavy breath and groaned softly as you started to suck on him, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, and your clit throbbed as you watched him lean his head back, the inked skin on his throat stretching as he did. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Eddie whispered. “Take me deeper, baby.” 

You let his cock fall from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to his piercing, and you gasped in for air. “Don’t think I can,” you told him. “You’re just too big, Mr. Munson.” 

“Jesus Christ, call me Eddie,” he chuckled breathlessly. “I think we’re past the whole ‘mister’ business.”

“Alright,” you agreed, and you tugged his pants down a little further before you captured his cock in your hand, slowly jerking him off as your lips went to his fat balls, kissing them gently and kitten-licking at the seam of them. 

“Yeah, baby, lick my balls,” Eddie mumbled. “Fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife wouldn’t go near them, s’like she was allergic or some shit. Suck on ‘em a little, show me how much you love ‘em.” 

You took one of his balls between your lips, stroking his shaft as you sucked gently on him. Eddie moaned softly, almost like he was afraid of you hearing, and your pussy tingled at the sound. Your free hand fell down your body and went up your dress, and you rubbed at your clit, trying to get any pleasure as you switched to his other testicle, sucking on it as well. 

“Touching your clit?” Eddie asked, and you nodded, flashing your best doe eyes up at him as you suckled at his sack. He leaned back, drawing himself from your mouth, and you whimpered as you started to chase him back. You weren’t done yet. You wanted to always have his cock or balls in your mouth, you wanted nothing more than that, but Eddie had other ideas. He quickly dragged his shirt over his head, exposing his inked chest to you, and his hands went to your dress, tugging it up over your head and off of your body. You were completely naked for him, your body thrumming with excited energy, and he grabbed at your hips, kneading your skin between his hands. 

“God, baby,” he said. “Your body’s a fuckin’ A. Perfect tits, perfect ass, perfect pussy… Open up your legs, let me see you.” 

“I-I shaved,” you told him. “I didn’t know how you liked it.” 

“I can see that,” Eddie laughed. “For future reference, I like it however you like it. Whatever you wanna do with your body, that’s your business. I’m just here to fuck you.” 

“How feminist of you,” you giggled. 

“I’m nothing if not a people pleaser,” Eddie said with a wink. “Open your legs, I need to put my fingers inside you.” 

“Oh, wow,” you rolled your eyes. “So romantic.” 

“Well, if my fingers don’t fit, how is my dick supposed to?” Eddie asked, and he was right. His fingers were thick, all inked up with barbed wire on his top knuckles and various little drawings of candles and crosses and skulls and hearts on his lower knuckles, and you wanted them inside you so badly. 

“Right,” you said. You carefully opened your legs, exposing your sopping wet cunt to him, and Eddie moaned at the sight of it. 

“Look at that,” he said. “All wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

His fingers danced from your hip to your pussy, and he lightly traced the lips of your cunt before he pressed his middle finger, all inked up with a skull, inside you. You gasped and grabbed at his hair, squeezing your eyes shut, and you moaned softly at the stretch. God, his finger was deliciously thick inside you, and you weren’t sure how you were meant to take more than one, let alone take his cock. “God, Eddie,” you whimpered. “So big.” 

“I know, baby,” Eddie told you. “Poor thing, can’t even take my fingers. You’re gonna be so tight, it’ll be so fucking good.” 

His second finger nudged your hole, threatening to slip inside you, and you tugged on his grey and black hair, earning you a breathy chuckle. “Found my weakness,” Eddie told you, his cock rising up to rest against his tattooed belly. “Fucking love having my hair pulled.” 

“Really?” you asked, and Eddie shoved his second finger in. You groaned at the burn of the stretch of your velvet walls around him, and he instantly started to curl his fingers up, searching for that magic spot inside you. “Eddie, it hurts.” 

“Aw,” Eddie pouted. “Can’t take it?”

‘No,” you said quickly. “I-I can take it. Just hurts.” 

“If you need me to stop, just let me know,” Eddie told you. “Alright? I might be a mean old bitch, but I care about you.” 

“You’re not mean,” you told him. “Or old. Or a bitch.” 

Eddie laughed. “Honey,” he started. “I’m 56 years old. I think that’s on the other side of middle-aged. I’m about to be geriatric.” 

“That’s not old, though,” you countered. “It’s not like you’re, like, 80 or whatever.” 

“That’s your cut-off?” Eddie asked. “If someone’s 80, you won’t fuck them?” 

“Yeah, that’s my cut-off,” you laughed, and Eddie groaned softly. 

“When you laugh, your pussy gets tighter,” he mumbled. His fingers were still moving inside you, thrusting in and out and fucking you as he curled his fingers up, and the silver ring on his middle finger pressed up against you with every thrust. He was quick it with, fucking you on his hand faster than you had ever imagined, and you tugged his hair again and whined and whimpered as he finally drove home in that spot inside you. 

“Fuck, Eddie!” you cried as your legs shook. “Fuck me, Eddie!”  

“Hey,” Eddie said sharply, and he grabbed you by the chin hard. “Not so loud. Don’t want you waking up half the trailer park ‘cause you don’t know how to shut the fuck up.” 

“I can shut up,” you told him quickly. “I can, I promise.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Eddie said slyly. He looked down at you, where your pussy swallowed his fingers, and he said, “Fuck it.” He quickly withdrew his fingers from you, earning him a hiss at the sudden emptiness, and he stripped off his pants to be fully naked for you. You were right before; he had tattoos everywhere, lining his legs and hips and sides, and you smiled at the small devil illustration he had just above his pubes. “You ready, baby?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Don’t forget about those marks.” 

“Oh, baby, I haven’t forgotten,” Eddie said. “Just thinkin’ about where all I wanna give ‘em to you.” 

“On my neck,” you told him, and Eddie swooped down, attaching to your throat in an instant. He bit at your skin, sucking it between his teeth and breaking the small blood vessels under your skin, and he only stopped when you mewled in pain. When he pulled away, he grinned down at his work, and he said, “I’ve gotta get inside you, my dick’s gonna fall off if I don’t.” 

“You dick won’t fall off,” you said with a roll of your eyes, and Eddie just smiled. 

“Wanna bet?” he asked as he nudged your legs open wider, and he worked up a mouthful before he spit down on your waiting pussy. He took his cock in his hand and used the pierced head to spread his spit around, and you gasped at his piercing caught on your hole, still all open and throbbing for him. 

“Oh my God,” you mumbled. “Oh, fuck, just fuck me.” 

Without another moment of waiting, Eddie pushed his cock inside you, letting you adjust to just the size of his head, and your head fell back. You had never felt anything like this before, anything so big and perfect, and the piercing dragged against your gummy walls as he pushed in even further. You worried that the piercing would hurt, but it was the thing you enjoyed the most about him, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “More,” you told him, digging your nails into his shoulders. “More, Daddy, more.” 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Eddie chuckled. “That shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.” 

“Turns me on too,” you told him. 

“Man, you’ve got some serious daddy issues,” Eddie laughed as his balls hit your ass, fully inside you. You felt like the breath had been pushed your of your lungs and you struggled for a breath, and you couldn’t stop the fuzzy feeling in your head as Eddie started to withdraw, fucking you slowly. “Next thing you know, you’re gonna be asking me for the money to go to Paris.” 

“Daddy,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to meet his thrust in, and you gasped in pain as he buried himself so deep inside you, his head kissed your cervix. “Fuck, ow.” 

“Oh, Jesus, you okay?” Eddie asked. “Do we need to stop?” 

“No, it’s not your fault,” you told him, wincing at the pain. “Fuck, that just hurt really bad.”

“What did I do?” Eddie asked. “Is it the piercing? I can take it out really quick if you want—”

“Eddie—”

“Yeah, let me do that, hang on just a tick—”

“Eddie!” you laughed, dragging him down into a messy kiss to shut him up. For as rough and gruff as he was acting before, he let his true self shine through for just a moment, and you saw the guy in those yearbook pictures from back in ‘86, smiling and throwing up devil horns. He was just a goofball, plain and simple, and that wasn’t something that people grew out of. He cared about you, even if it was just for the night. He readjusted his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, and you felt his erratic heartbeat against your chest. “Hit me.”

“What?”  Eddie asked, breaking the kiss abruptly. 

“This is getting too lovey and soft,” you told him. “You’re supposed to be hatefucking me ‘cause I’m Jason Carver’s daughter. Remember? You’re supposed to be taking out your anger on me. You promised that you’d fuck me and not make stupid love to me, so do it. Hit me.” 

“I don’t wanna mess up your pretty face,” Eddie protested. He still fucked you as he spoke, going slow and shallow, and you frowned. 

“Oh, so you’re breaking your promise to me too?” you asked. “First, it was Dad and Paris, and now it’s you. I thought you were better than that.” 

“Fuckin’ low blow, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled darkly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, wanting me to be rougher.” 

“Do your worst,” you bit at him with a wicked smile, and Eddie’s dark eyes went black, setting his jaw. 

“Fine,” he said flatly. “Was gonna take it easy on you, but you don’t leave me any choice.” 

He slapped you, hard, across the cheek, forcing your head to the side, and you gasped in pain as your cheek lit aflame. “Oh, shut up,” Eddie snapped. “You wanted rough, you’re getting rough. And don’t you fuckin’ complain either, you wanted this.” 

“Fuck, Daddy,” you whimpered, and you held on as Eddie started to fuck you harder. He was deep inside you, but not enough to hurt you again, and you peered over his shoulder to see a small mirror hanging on the back of the door. You watched as his lithe body moved, his taut ass flexing with every fuck inside you, your heels digging into his buttocks, but your eyes were glued to the giant bat that covered his back, the wings crawling up the back of his neck and into his hair. 

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie said venomously, grabbing hard at your throat. “Call me Master.” 

“Master?” you repeated, and Eddie nodded. 

“It’s an old song from when I was in high school,” Eddie said. “Come crawling faster, obey your master… Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes, Master,” you said, and Eddie smiled. 

“God, you’re so good,” he told you. “You like when I tell you you’re good?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, and Eddie pulled out of you. He used a strength that you didn’t think he had to throw you onto your stomach, manhandling your hips in the air as he sent a hard smack to your asscheek. It hurt, not as much as your face did, but you jolted anyway, crying out. “Make it hurt, Master, please!” 

His palm cracked against your ass again, and you mewled, pushing your ass out further to him. “Got a little pain kink too, huh?” Eddie asked. “Praise and pain, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart.” 

He used one hand to slide himself back inside your slick and waiting pussy, and his other hand tangled in your hair and tugged your head up. You were face to face with that mirror, forced to watch yourself get fucked, and you laughed, watching Eddie in the mirror. The hand in your hair readjusted to your throat, grabbing you hard and pressing his thumb into the vein on the side, and he used the leverage to fuck you hard. The angle was new, a lot better than the old one, and you moaned in time with his thrusts. 

“Yeah, this perfect pussy…” Eddie muttered, smacking your ass again. “Sucking me right in. You’re so good, y’know, most perfect pussy I’ve ever had.” 

“Thanks,” you giggled, and Eddie smacked your ass again. 

“Love the way it bounces back against me,” he told you. “Fuckin’ fat ass you’ve got, fuck. Might have to keep you, won’t let you go to Paris or anywhere.”

“Keep me,” you gasped. “Mark me, make me yours! Please!”

“You said you’re on the pill, right?” Eddie asked, and you gave him a quick “uh-huh”. “Good girl. Gonna cum inside you when we get there.” 

“Alright,” you giggled. You felt euphoric as Eddie fucked you, all the chemicals in your body making you smile and laugh, and you shrieked when his hand came to your clit, rubbing it in quick, small, focused strokes. “Master!” 

“Aw, your legs are already shaking,” Eddie cooed. “You gonna cum? My fat cock too much for you?” 

“Just so big,” you cried. The knot in your belly was bordering on splitting, electricity running up the back of your thighs and into the soles of your feet and the very top of your tummy, and your arms gave out from under you. Only your ass remained in the air, and Eddie dropped your throat from his tight grip in order to grab your hips and shove you back onto his cock. It took your breath away, and you whimpered into the bedsheets as he pounded into you. The bed underneath you creaked loudly, obviously never having seen this level of action before, and the sounds of it hitting your ears made you feel funny. It was ugly and slick, sticky and wet, smack-smack-smack of his heavy balls hitting your clit with every fuck, but it was the best thing you had ever heard. “Master! Wanna cum, let me cum!” 

“You think you deserve it?” Eddie asked. “You’ve been a big fuckin’ brat tonight. I don’t think you deserve to cum. I think I oughta fuck you until the sun rises and Chrissy and Jason notice you’re gone. Haven’t they noticed yet?”

“Th-They’re probably asleep,” you stuttered out. “They would have called me if they noticed.”

“Well, let’s see,” Eddie said, and he reached behind him for your phone, tugging it out of the pocket of your jean jacket. “Fuck, I’m not wearing my glasses, I can’t see this tiny writing…” 

“Alright, Grandpa,” you chuckled, and Eddie grabbed your hair and tugged hard, making you yelp. 

“Keep that attitude and I won’t let you cum,” he snapped quickly. “Missed call from Daddy. Missed call from Mom. Text from Daddy: Where are you? Another missed call from Daddy. Another text: Just called Tara’s mom, you’re not there. Come home now or you’re grounded. Another text: Is this about Paris? Jesus Christ, get a clue, Jason. Guess we don’t have any time to waste, do we?” 

“Please stop talking about my dad,” you panted, anxiety growing in your chest. So what? Dad takes your keys away from you? You’ll hitch a ride to school. Takes away your computer, your phone? None of it mattered. You weren’t going to Paris like he promised. “It’s a real turn-off.” 

“Whatever you say, baby,” Eddie told you with a small sigh. 

“Are you sad this is ending?” you chuckled. “Aw, Eddie.” 

“Don’t aw at me,” he said. “I’m still your master, baby, and I will be until I cum.” 

“Even after, I bet,” you told him. “I bet, the moment I call you, you’ll come running.” 

“You bet I will,” Eddie laughed. “Sweet pussy like this, I’ll do whatever you want me to if it means I get to fuck you again.” 

“You old perv,” you smiled, and Eddie smacked your ass one more time. 

“Yeah, but I’m the old perv that you fucked,” Eddie chuckled. “I’m about to cum, baby, and I want you to cum first.” 

“An old perv and a gentleman,” you said, and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“What can I say? Mama raised me right,” Eddie said. His hand resumed its quick rotations on your clit, and that electricity returned, and you yelped as the pleasure returned full-force. 

“Master,” you whined. “Wanna cum, please.” 

“You’ve been a pretty good girl,” Eddie considered. “Been a little brat, but not naughty. You can cum, baby, cum all over my cock, make it all messy.” 

“Fuck!” you cried. “Eddie, oh my God!” 

“C’mon, baby,” Eddie said. “Good girl, c’mon.” 

You grabbed the bedsheets hard enough that you thought they might rip, and you came suddenly and hard. Your whole body shook as you pushed back onto Eddie, trying to get him deeper, and Eddie groaned as your cunt went tight as you came. “Fuck, honey, just like that,” Eddie said, and he reached up, rubbing your back as you gasped for air. Your head felt fuzzy and your body gave out underneath Eddie, and, luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for Eddie to finish. 

You felt him painting your walls almost in time with you, a deep moan drawing from his chest as he filled you to the brim with his hot, thick semen. “Fuck, yeah, baby,” he said on shaky breaths, and he molded his front to your back, breathing in time with you. “Don’t wanna move.” 

“Then don’t,” you whispered. His weight on you felt good, like the best weighted blanket you had ever had, and you clutched a pillow to your face as Eddie started to slowly kiss your neck, his lips resting just against your pulse-point. 

“Was that good for you, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered, and you nodded, humming softly. 

“So good,” you whispered. 

“You wanna stay ‘til morning?” Eddie asked. “I make a mean fried egg.” 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. You searched the bed for your phone as Eddie got up, and you quickly tapped out a message to your dad as Eddie redressed and retrieved his cigarettes from the front room: hey dad, i’m fine, just staying at a friend’s. you really upset me and i couldn’t stand being in the house with you. we can talk tomorrow when i get home. 

“Who’re you texting?” Eddie asked as he went to his closet, and he pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants and tossed them in your direction. 

“My dumb dad,” you said. “Telling him I’ll be home tomorrow.” 

“Cool,” Eddie said. He sighed as he laid down next to you, and you tugged the shirt over your head as you curled up into his side. 

“Thanks for… This,” you said softly. “It means a lot.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie said, drawing at his cigarette. “Go to sleep, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.” 

And he was right. When you woke up, Eddie was already awake, the hood of your car opened as he fooled around inside it, grease up to his elbows. The morning was cold as you stepped outside, frost biting under your feet, and you called, “Eds? What’re you doing?” 

“You said your car made a funny noise when it starts up,” Eddie said. 

“When did I say that?” you asked, wrinkling your nose. 

“At the top of the night,” Eddie told you. “You hadn’t even come inside yet.” 

“Neither had you,” you said with a smile, and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, well, your connector cables are corroded,” he said. “Your battery is all fucked up. I’m not sure how your car even started to get you here.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Can you fix it?” 

“Not here,” Eddie said. “I’d have to take it into the shop, call a tow truck to bring it in. It’ll probably be $300 to fix it, too.” 

“My dad will pay it,” you told him easily. 

“Or, you could trade this piece of shit in,” Eddie offered with a chuckle. “Maybe then you could go to Paris.” 

“How am I supposed to get home?” you asked. “I told Dad I’d be home soon.” 

“I can drive you,” Eddie offered. He wiped his hands on a towel that hung from his shoulder, and the flame of attraction grew in your belly again. How had you never seen it before? Eddie was hot. “I mean, I’m headed into town anyway. I bet you guys live in Loch Nora, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Umm, thanks.” 

“No problem, baby,” Eddie said. “Just give me some sugar and we’re square.” 

“Sure thing,” you giggled, and you threw your arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him softly. He chuckled and grabbed your hips as he kissed you back, and you smiled into his mouth. 

The drive was pretty quiet, all things considered. His van was nice, as far as vans went, and metal music played quietly from the speakers. He held a hand on your thigh as he drove, and he said, “You’re still wearing my clothes.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Didn’t feel like putting my dress back on.” 

“I’ll need those back, y’know,” Eddie said. “I only have so many shirts that aren’t stained with grease.” 

“I’ll give them back,” you told him. “Maybe later today when I see you at the shop.” 

He rolled up in your driveway, and you sat and stared at the house for a moment before the front door opened and your dad stepped out. “Look at me,” Eddie mumbled, and he put his hand on your face and gently turned your face to see him. “You’ve got hickies on your neck, a handprint on your throat, and you can hardly sit ‘cause your ass is all bruised up. Want me to give you another hickey real quick?” 

“No, it’s fine,” you told him. “Maybe a kiss?” 

“Gotta show off for your dad,” Eddie smirked, and he leaned in and kissed you softly. 

“Kiss me like you mean it,” you mumbled against him. “Master.” 

“Fuck, honey,” Eddie said. “Making my dick twitch.” His hand softly cupped your cheek as he kissed you harder, and his tongue snaked inside your mouth. He tasted just the same as last night, and you grinned into the kiss. 

“Alright,” you said, and you gathered your things before you jumped out of the van, slamming the door shut and waving at him. “Bye, Eddie!” 

“Eddie?” your dad shouted. “Eddie Munson? Why’s Eddie Munson dropping you off at 8AM?” 

“My car broke down again,” you told him, brushing past him and into the house. 

“And you called Eddie to pick you up?” your dad asked. 

“No, I was already at his place,” you said casually, and you watched your father’s eyes widen as he finally saw you fully, the marks on your neck and your clothing. 

“You didn’t,” your dad said, his eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t.” 

“I wouldn’t what?” you asked. “I wouldn’t sleep with the guy you bullied in high school? I might; who’s to say?” 

-

taglist:

@avidanadvocacy, @hazzaismyreligion, @sw34terw34ther, @bowersbubbles, @maciiiofficial, @cinnamoncunt, @hb8301, @eddiethesexy, @ultimate-sdmn-trash, @floweredanxiety, @kaylenraye07, @theoneandlaurie, @stacylowell, @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown, @trinsghost, @jcbbby, @harley1608, @stardancerluv, @choke-me-joey, @adowablekontent, @hauntingbastille, @goatsmcgee, @fxirybubble, @meusvenator, @ajkamins, @starcourtnights, @emma77645, @etherealeddie, @godcreatoreli, @thewondernanazombie, @sav-202, @ceriseheaven, @eddie-joe-munson, @rehfan, @eddiemunsons-world, @aysheashea, @this-do-be-therapeutic, @thedisrespectisunreal, @tvraaaa, @hiraeth-the-dreamer, @heyndrix, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @its--fandom--darling, @killing-my-soul, @boltonbritreads, @munsonswhore86, @thegothicfox, @maraudersfavoritewhore, @nikk1v, @catcoughannie

[lipringlrh]

i know it wont work | CL16

"I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different.” - i know it won’t work, gracie abrams

summary: you don’t love charles anymore and it’s wrong to keep dragging him along.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

an: wrote this ages ago but remembered it. happy charles contract day !!!

word count: 1.8k

warning: a bit suggestive? breakups and angst, sad charles who likes to beg x

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

we need to talk.

He received the text from you this morning, but he didn't want to respond. He knew what was coming but he had been ignoring it and trying his best to fix it for the past month.

He could feel you falling out of love with him over the past few weeks and he had tried everything to fix it. He'd bought you flowers, took you on fancy dates, and constantly did your favourite activities with you. It's not like he wasn't doing that before, he most definitely was, but he made it more often and romantic than before. The last thing he wanted was to lose you.

You would've said the same every day of your life until recently. You didn't know how it happened, or when or why, but it did and you hated yourself for it. You didn't want to fall out of love with Charles, you always believed you'd be together for the rest of your lives, so when you realised it was happening you ignored it, trying to force the feelings back. You immersed yourself in the dates he took you on and tried so hard to love him but you couldn't help it anymore.

It didn't take much time to realise Charles knew. He could always read you better than anyone else which you usually loved. He spent days crying into your arms, holding you and refusing to let you leave, mourning the relationship he knew was coming to an end. Neither of you addressed it though, you just waited, hoping the other would talk first. Despite loving him less and less, you loved the relationship you had with him, and you didn't want to leave him.

It was unfair though, you realised. You'd stare at each other and you could see easily how in love he was with you whilst you felt nothing. It was horrible dragging it on, especially knowing he knew, and you couldn't spend time with him without feeling incredibly guilty.

You didn't know how to go about it, telling the man you thought you'd spend your life with you didn't love him, but after sending the text, you knew you'd started it the wrong way.

You weren't surprised by the lack of response, you guessed it might happen, but you stayed home all day knowing he would show up at some point. And at quarter past eleven at night, he did.

You both were sat on the same sofa, not too far apart but far enough you couldn't touch each other without leaning. Charles hadn't looked at you since he arrived, he stared mostly at the floor, very occasionally looking up. It wasn't hard to notice the colour of his eyes - they were bright red, most likely from a mix of crying and rubbing them.

You sat in silence for a while, neither of you saying anything, neither of you wanting to admit the truth. Neither of you had told anyone the issues over the past month, but a few close friends had some ideas.

Charles was playing with his fingers, ripping off skin at the corners, he didn't want to hear what he knew you were going to say but he couldn't sit in the silence any longer without crying.

"Please just get it over with," he whispered, hoping he had the completely wrong idea for the last month.

You paused for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying not to cry yourself, "I'm not in love with you anymore."

It made you feel sick to finally say it out loud. You hated yourself for feeling it and for bottling it in for so long.

The room was silent again but not for long. Charles' head was in his hands, and small sobs could be heard from him.

"Charles, I am so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, I wanted to spend my life with you, I promise."

“Don’t, please,” he cried, voice shaking.

You started to focus on your own breathing again, forcing yourself to hold back from crying, “we can’t be together anymore.”

He looked up, straight at you. You could see his face fully now for the first time, Tears ran down his face, which was already blotchy. He looked tired and hopeless, and you feared he’d only get worse.

“Yeah, no shit,” his voice started off strong before breaking completely at the end, sending out another wave of sobs.

“God, I am so sorry, Charles, I am so sorry,” you sniffled, beginning to cry yourself.

He just shook his head and places it back in his hands. His full body was shaking and he was sobbing harder than you thought possible.

“Can you- can you hold me please?” he choked, barely holding back his cries.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“Please,” he begged, shamelessly. He didn’t care anymore, you knew he needed you, he didn’t need to hide it.

You moved closer to him, barely, still keeping a safe distance. You placed a hand on his head, not sure what else to do.

Charles made the next move and placed himself right next to you, almost on top of you. He leaned into you, pressing his head into your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him subconsciously, pulling him closer.

He carried on shaking into you, letting out strangled sobs. They never seemed to end, he just seemed to carry on for what felt like forever. You cried too, into his hair, occasionally pressing tender kisses wherever you could reach.

"Please let me stay tonight, it's too dark for me to drive. Let me just have one last night with you please," he begged, still crying into your shoulder.

You knew it was bullshit - he drove just as well at night as in the day and it was just as dark as when he came, but you didn’t have the energy to dispute him.

“Charles-”

“Please, baby, just one night. Just one.”

You couldn’t answer him. It would be so wrong to say yes but it felt wrong to say no.

“Let me have one last good memory. Let me prove what you’re missing,” he tried pleading again.

You sighed, nodding, not that he could see you. He could feel you though but wasn’t entirely sure if your movements meant anything.

“Hmm, you want to? Please, baby. Talk to me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, yes? Talk properly.” he ordered, sharply yet quietly, taking more control over his tears.

“Yes Charles,” you responded. He tried to look at you pointedly, silently pushing you for more, but with his tear-stained face it didn't work too well. After knowing him better than anyone, you understood though, “Yes Charles, you can stay.”

“Good answer,” he whispered, turning back into your neck, pressing lazy kisses up and down, “such a good answer angel.”

“Charles,” you almost whined. Almost. It’d be wrong to let him have you the way he wanted whilst he was in this state but God did it feel good.

He was moving down your jaw, leaving wet, loving, kisses in the wake. He was pushing himself into you, moving against your thigh.

“Let me make love to you, baby,” he moaned, rutting his hips faster against yours, “don’t refuse. I know you can’t resist me. Please.”

His face was pressed into your neck, switching between sucking and biting down. His hands moved further down, touching your chest and body in all the right places.

“Yes. Please, Charles.”

————

You slept well that night, better than you had in a long while even though you were still wrapped up in Charles’ arms. You were woken up by him, dabbing light kisses down your neck.

Light fled in through the window, hitting you and Charles perfectly. You awoke to feel his hair tickling your chin, his lips now kissing across your shoulder.

“Charles, not again,” you groaned, not wanting him to stop at all, but you were beginning to feel guilty. You just spent a night with a man who loved you unconditionally, knowing that you didn't, "Come on, Charles, get up."

He carried on kissing you, moving towards your collar bone, then inching further down, "we can go again."

You tangled your hands in his hair, moving his face up, away from your body.

"No, Charles," you paused, taking in a sharp intake of breath as Charles began kissing your jaw, "Charles, you need to go."

He stopped instantly and looked up at you. It was easy to notice the sudden change in demeanour. His playful attitude was gone, replaced with a much more miserable one. He already looked like he was going to cry again.

He'd put last nights conversation to the back of his mind, only focusing on the fact he had you all to himself. He didn't want to remember it either.

"Is there anything I can do to make you love me?" he whispered, brokenly, on the verge of crying again.

He rested his head on your chest, beginning to sob into you. His body was lightly shaking, only getting more vigorous as time went on. You couldn't respond to him - you couldn't even look at him. Guilt ate you up inside, you wanted to love him.

"I think you should go, Charles," you spoke, your voice cracking. You were crying now too.

"I want to stay."

"I don't love you Charles," you cried, "I think it's best if you leave."

"Could you love me again?" he pried, barely being able to speak between gasping for breath, his crying taking over his whole body.

"I think you should go."

"Can you answer me?" he begged.

You didn't want to but you had to. You repeated yourself again, "I think you should go, Charles,"

He propped himself up on his arms, his face over yours. He had tear tracks down his face. He was hopeful when he shouldn't be, "you're not saying no."

"I'm saying I think you should go."

"Please," he asked again, wanting nothing more than you to give in. He always believed, deep down, you were it for him, his forever person, and he really didn't want to give you up.

"Please go, Charles," you pleaded, refusing to look at him. If you could go back in time and fix your feelings, you would, in every timeline, but you couldn't and you regretted it every second.

"I'm going," he sighed, defeatedly, getting up from the bed. He grabbed his clothes, dressing himself with little effort.

He took his time, trying to savour every last bit of time with you, even if it was bittersweet. He took one last look at you before he was out of the door, holding your gaze for as long as he could.

"I promise you I'll love you forever, call me if you'll let me".

[boredmadamoiselle]

You know where to find me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: Charles is out to dinner, enjoying the evening with friends until he gets a naughty text from you. What is he going to do... to you?

Warnings: Smut. Masturbation. Teasing. Charles a little possessive maybe? English isn't my first language, so it might contain some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration. 

As Charles was out to dinner with friends and you had stayed home, you had decided to clean your apartment and ended up tidying up your closet as well. While improvising a fashion show and pretending to be a model in your bedroom, you tried on some clothes you thought you had lost or that no longer fit you. 

You were rearranging the lingerie drawer when you found an old red bodysuit you had bought some time ago and for some strange reason never used. It was time to fix it, you thought. 

The red color reminded you of Ferrari and of Charles. He loved seeing you in red, that’s why you wore that color often – both on and off the track –, it was your way to support him. So you were sure Charles would love that bodysuit on you, especially the part where he would take it from you. Just the thought turned you on immediately. 

You looked at your phone. It was nearly midnight; it was time for Charles to come home and take care of you. It had been, in fact, several hours since Charles had left the house, he had probably had enough fun, now it was your turn. 

After putting the bodysuit on and taking a quick look in the mirror to fix your hair and put on some makeup, you got on the bed and took a few pictures with your phone. 

Satisfied with the result you sent a message and some pictures to your boyfriend and waited for his response. 

-

Charles was listening to his friends chatting when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He couldn’t help but smile seeing that it was you. He opened the notification without hesitation. 

Hey, amour. How is it going? Hope you’re having fun. 

Look what I found. 

The text was accompanied by some pictures. 

“Fuck”, Charles whispered as he opened the first image before remembering where he was and with whom. 

He looked up from his phone and looked around. Luckily his friends were still engaged in their previous conversation, so no one was paying attention to him. 

He went back to looking at the picture you had sent him. His mouth watered at the sight of you on your bed in front of the mirror with almost nothing on but a red lace bodysuit that left little room for the imagination. But the things he imagined doing to you were many. 

He texted you back. 

Y/n, please... Don’t.

You were quick to respond. 

What? I thought you would like it

You know you were playing with fire and that later you would suffer the consequences, but you couldn’t help but teasing him now. In the end you knew it would be worth it. 

That’s the problem, Y/n. I loved it… But I’d rather you without 

As he imagined slowly taking off the bodysuit from you and your naked body under his, he received another message from you. 

Well… you know where to find me😏

If it was up to him, he would have already got in the car and would be on his way to you as fast as he could. 

Baby, I can’t leave yet

Please

You loved to see him beg even though you knew you would regret it later when the roles would be reversed. Since he was going to make you pay, you wanted to enjoy yourself while you could. 

I get it, Cha. But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist. Maybe I should take the matter into my own hands while I wait for you? 

His erection, already hard, was pushing against his pants. 

Y/n, don’t you dare…

Charles was still writing when you texted him back. 

I'll stop writing now. My fingers have better things to do. Have fun, see u later 😉

Your message left Charles speechless and unable to answer. That was pure torture, he thought. How could he enjoy the rest of the evening if all he could think about was you and what you were doing right now? Did you stand by your words and were you taking care of yourself?, Charles thought. The image of you touching yourself and moaning kept playing in his mind, driving him crazy and also a little jealous. He wanted to be the one making you feel good and hear you screaming his name over and over again. 

The more he thought about it, the more impatient he became and wanted to get out of there. The air inside was getting hotter. He loved his friends and spending time with them, but at that moment he could only think of you. He desperately wanted you. It was amazing the effect you had on him, even from a distance. 

He looked at his watch impatiently, it was past midnight. They had been there for several hours; his friends wouldn't mind if he left. At most he would have invented some excuse, for example that he was tired. He looked at his watch again, it was time to go home for him… to get back to you.

-

After your last message, you had waited for Charles a little. You hoped your words had had some effect on him but seeing he didn’t arrive, you got bored in the end. You were still turned on by the conversation you had had with Charles. You closed your eyes and started to think about your boyfriend and the things he would have done to you if he had been there. 

Your hands slowly moved towards your pussy. As you rubbed your fingers over your panties, pressing them over the fabric, you could feel the cotton soaking through, making you shiver. 

You moaned, your bodysuit soon pushed to the side and one finger inside of you, getting all wet by your arousal. You whimpered at the contact, imagining it was Charles doing that to you.  

As you picked up the pace and pushed another finger between your wet folds, you were starting to feel your own arousal become nigh unbearable. You tilted your head back as your hips thrust to meet your fingers. 

You didn't hear the front door close or the footsteps approaching the bedroom. 

You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You were almost there when someone grabbed your hands, pinning them over your head and stopping you from reaching your orgasm. 

You instantly widened your eyes. 

“Charles! You scared me to death!”, you screamed. 

Charles smirked and looked at you with desire as he was above you, holding one knee between your legs and pressing on your pussy.

“Yeah, baby? This is what happens when you get caught doing something you shouldn’t.”

You weren’t really scared; his words were actually turning you on even more. 

“This is what happens when your boyfriend doesn’t show up on time. You are a racing driver and are so slow?”, you challenged him. 

Charles would never admit it but he loved it when you acted like a brat, it excited him.

He remained silent as his eyes wandered over your body and gently stroked you with one hand. He licked his lips and his cock hardened at the sight of your wet and naked cunt. He was dying to be inside you but he knew he needed to be patient, he wouldn't let you win so easily. 

“I was about to come, Charles”, you sighed, pretending to be frustrated. 

Charles knew it well. He had already been there for several minutes enjoying the show when he politely interrupted you. At another time he would have gladly watched you pleasure yourself and allowed you to finish the work but not that day. You would only come when he let you. 

His fingers caressed your slit, teasing it and collecting your wetness while you winced and moaned as you were still sensitive. He gently flicked your clit, sending shocks down your spine. His fingers dug into you, without much resistance. You began to slowly move your hips but Charles had other plans for you and pulled his fingers out, putting them in his mouth to taste you. 

“Only good girls are allowed to come. Have you been a good girl, chérie?”, he whispered looking at you and wearing a cocky smile, his face a few meters from yours before to kiss you roughly. 

You could feel all his desperation and desire in that kiss. He wanted you too. 

He walked away from your lips. “I don’t think so. You are just a little slut who couldn’t even wait for his boyfriend to come home.”

Before you could reply, he started to move down, kissing down your neck and chest, biting a little, sucking a little more, making you gasp as he got to one of your breasts. 

He was touching and kissing you everywhere except where you needed him the most and that was driving you crazy. You knew it was your time to beg. 

“Please, Charles… I can be good for you, let me show you”, you said in a trembling voice. 

He looked up at you. “I don’t know if you deserve it. You should rather be punished, don’t you think?”

At those words you knew you had a long night ahead. You nodded at him as you couldn’t wait to be punished. 

That night, in fact, you had to wait before coming as Charles teased you a lot but several hours and orgasms later it was worth it… three times.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) (Part 3)

Synopsis: A hag has set her eyes on you and Eowyn- Astarion is determined to kill the damn thing.

CW: Mentions of child loss

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

Picture does not belong to me! Please reach out to me if it is yours!

P.s. lightly edited

Month 8 has been blissful and going into your last month- you actually feel stronger than you have the entire time.

You sit on a bench, reading another book about babies (you save the Dhampir books for locations with less eyes), as Astarion throws a ball with Scratch and Wide Eyes (Karlach thought her name for the Owlbear was clever) in the local park. Astarion had been fed up with their zoomie shenanigans since they began earlier this morning. You wanted to go outside anyway- so it was perfect!

Eowyn kicks every so often to let you know that she is still there and doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon, but overall, it’s been a really easy day. It’s fun to be able to watch Astarion enjoy such mundane life activities and it makes you realize how many simple things in your life that you have taken for granted.

You smile to yourself as you continue to read your book and you finally feel hungry enough to begin munching on the pastry Astarion bought you.

It was an apple cupcake and it was surprisingly very very yummy.

“My, my,” a scratchy voice says, “aren’t you a pretty little bred thing.”

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up and you turn very slowly to look at the elderly woman who stares at you with a look of hunger in her eyes. Oh- it’s the woman Astarion bought the cupcake from. She looked… friendlier earlier?

You don’t know why you feel like you are in danger all of a sudden, but your arms go over your stomach protectively- one of them ready to fire a cantrip if needed. The energy around her feels familiar, but different- you’ve been in the presence of this type of magic before, but you can’t remember when.

“You are that pretty girl that lives in the house with the dark curtains,” she steps closer, “you come and buy those herbs with your little Cleric friend!”

Oh- maybe that’s why I recognize her more? I’ve seen her more than I’ve realized?

“You know, Droplet, I could take that little one off your hands.”

Your whole body freezes at the statement and her already wicked smile becomes even more menacing and even intimidating.

“You do look close to death as is- you don’t really want to birth a child you won’t survive having do you? Especially not a bloodthirsty Dhampir!”

You feel your heart racing, a deep sadness and fear is coursing through you.

Eowyn, my sweet girl, you are not going anywhere.

That relieves some of the uncomfortable emotions stirring within you, but this woman has you in a trance. You can’t look away from her and you don’t feel like you can move.

“I- I don’t know you,” you say shakily, “I- you need to walk away, please. I’m not interested and I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You begin to feel really sleepy all of a sudden and your eyes are becoming harder to keep open. Something is wrong and as much as you want to call out to Astarion- your mouth feels heavy.

“Oh, Droplet,” the woman tuts, “it will be okay- you’ll wake up and it will all be bet-“

“What in the hells do you think you are doing?”

Whatever spell the woman had tried to put you under broke when she jumped at Astarion’s voice. You look over at the father of your child and you almost begin to sob. You have never been more grateful for how menacing Astarion can look when he wants to.

“Oh, hello!” she recovers her composure, “I know this young, adorably pregnant girl from the market. I was just offering to… adopt.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion snarls, “because Hags are known for their kind hearted souls and their selfless adoption of children.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Scratch is up on the bench and standing between you and the Hag- his hackles are raised and a long, low growl is released from his throat while Wide Eyes stands right next to you as close as he can get.

The Hag looks at you, then Astarion, then Scratch, and lastly, Wide Eyes before she returns her gaze back to yours. She gives you one last wide grin.

“I will see you later, Droplet. You should know that I always get what I want.”

You turn to Astarion who is pushing past the Owlbear- your face is in between his hands in an instant and he’s frantically searching over you- looking for signs of maltreatment..

Astarion pulls out an antidote from his pocket and makes you drink it- just in case the woman had intentionally poisoned the cupcake. It didn’t make the intense sleepiness you feel go away, but at least you know you aren’t dying.

It doesn’t matter to him though- Astarion is quick to pull you up and support you while you walk home. You can tell Astarion wants to just pick you up and run back home to Shadowheart, but you both know how crazy that might look considering normal men who have Astarion’s physique can’t carry pregnant women.

The park is only a block away, but it felt like it took hours. The world is hazy and you shift in and out of focus as Shadowheart begins to check on you.

“Wh-when did Shaodowww smart get here?”

“Will you please figure out what’s wrong already, CLERIC!?”

Astarion yells and your jumbled brain jumps- tears come falling out of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sob, “I- I didn’t- I shouldn’t-“

“Shhhhhhhh, my Darling,” Astarion is sitting next to you in an instant as you begin to tilt over, “it’s okay- this is not your fault.”

“You….. sur…..”

Your question dies on your lips as you give into the exhaustion and fall asleep with your head on Astarion’s shoulder.

***********************

Astarion’s chest loosens when Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, and Halsin arrive. At least now he can go and kill the hag without worrying about dying in the process. He almost left after you had fallen asleep- the muffin he had bought you had in fact been laced with a sleeping potion. Astarion felt like a complete idiot, but Gale reassured him that he couldn’t have possibly known.

You are laying peacefully asleep in your bed and Astarion finds himself putting his hand against your belly to make sure Eowyn is okay- her kicks give him instant relief from the anxiety he is feeling.

He almost lost both of you and that thought is still enough to make Astarion homicidal. He will not let another evil individual take his life, his happiness- his home- ever again.

“S-star?”

Your eyes are staring at him lazily as you try to blink away the sleepiness. Astarion gently grasps your hand and brushes the stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m right here, my Love,” Astarion whispers, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

You whimper and sniffle at Astarion’s words- your bottom lip trembling. Astarion climbs into the bed behind you and holds you to him- you burst into tears.

“I al-almost lost-“ you say through sobs, “Eow-“

“Shhhh Darling, it’s okay. She’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m going with the others to kill the Hag. Jaheira and Shadowheart are going to stay here with you- okay?”

“Don’t go,” you turn awkwardly to look at him, your face is grief stricken, “I don’t want to lose you- please don’t go.”

“Darling…”

“Please.”

Right as Astarion responds- Gale is knocking on the door.

“Would it be alright if I came in?”

“Yes,” you both say in unison.

Gale smiles at Astarion sadly after he looks at you. Astarion didn’t think about the fact that it was hard for your friends to see you in this emotional state until he moved in. Shadowheart cries after leaving the room when you’ve had a particularly scary vomiting episode or false contraction. She is terrified for you and it made him realize he had been wrong about her as well. Shadowheart is a selfless person for the right people.

“Minsc and Halsin are about ready to go, Astarion,” Gale looks between the two of you- noticing how the comment created some tension, “Tav- he will come back alive. We all will. We fought Auntie Ethel as a group of total strangers with no battle experience together and won. This will be a breeze, my Friend.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

You take a deep, inhale in and with one last sniff you agree to not put up a fight about Astarion going. Astarion can’t believe that you would trust Gale’s opinion on the matter more, but he does understand the sentiment. It’s how he feels about Jaheira and Shadowheart staying behind.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead and whispers promises of seeing you soon- promises he intends on keeping.