#I desperately need to replace my boots as well

[obsessive-ego]

Pest of the west

Toonjuice x reader

Warning cringe

Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress

A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites

Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you

"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, ditched you to fend for yourself, all you knew was that you were screwed.

...

Finally, friday, it's been a long, rough work week. Between overtime, unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.

Home again, you kick off your shoes, toss your bag and coat on the couch, and make the mental note to tidy up later. More importantly, you make your way to your bedroom, eager for the best part of the work day, changing out of your work clothes.

Passing the full-length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the reflection wasn't yours.

"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dig around your dresser for something more comfortable.

"It's about time you finally came around, babes,"

"Yeah, overtime again," you sigh

"Gross"

"Tell me about mister 'I don't have a job.'" You laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.

"Huh," you mumble, scooping up your change of clothes. "Guess he had things to do?" You mumble.

Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.

"Beetlejuice?"

Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, wired fences, cow skulls, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire

"That's my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather lifestyle?"

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the netherworld's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"

"There's a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun.

"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words, and we'll be ghost town bound"

what's the worst that could happen?

"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone, your change of clothes now abandoned on the floor where you once stood.

...

And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big skull shaped belt, and of course some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, it was always so fun when your clothes changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, it was something you grew to look forward to with each trip. Your adoration for the new look was short-lived as you glanced around, unable to locate your friend.

"Beetlejuice?"

Did he ditch you?

"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"

The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice's head pops up from the dirt and unearths the rest of himself. "Welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.

"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"

"Of course, babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches, then you can shake a stick at," the ghost hollers, shaking a stick at a cow skull

"Sounds great, beej," you chuckle, grabbing his arm, eager to see the sights, and get your mind off your work week.

"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"

"Oh? You some kind of old West hero?" You chucke, amused by his sudden confidence.

"You kidding, babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later, " he cackles leading you into town

"Pest is right" you smile

...

The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, you both were laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.

It was all fun and games until your ghost, with the most, got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.

"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months," he grumbled

"It's surely an improvement." You laugh, hoisting your friend out of the water,

"Excuse me" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you "allow me to introduce myself" standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.

"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody who'd be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"

"What-" was all you managed to get out before beetlejuice perked up

"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward, eager to shake the mayor's hand before you pull him back

"Uh, beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"

"Dont rob people"

"Oof, that's on me, I set the bar too low, but weren't we just here to have fun? And besides sheriff? Ya know, that's a lot of hard work, " the ghoul's one weakness. Maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline, and the two of you could go back to goofing off.

"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, there's the ghost you know and love more than you're willing to admit.

"Maybe the breather is right. Maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle," casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away

"TENDER FOOT!?"

Great, now they had him. Beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.

"Can a tender foot do this?" Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so-called slime shooting skills, loudly proclaiming he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.

The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.

But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.

"Beetlejuice, come on, seriously? you're the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, and 6 provinces, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? There's obviously a catch, think about it, " you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.

"Beetlejuice, I wouldn't do this if I were you -" You try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more than ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.

"Congratulations, son, you're exactly what we're looking for!"

"This is a joke, right?" You groaned with arm crossed annoyed over the whole situation.

The mayor dragged Beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about.

"Attention, yall, I'd like ya to meet our new sheriff"

The crowd cheered, and Beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise being showered upon him, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon," the mayor starts

"And he's gonna do terrible, horrible things to you -" Fester continues

"Great," you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.

A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and Beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, it was weird, and you didnt understand it, but you werent complaining.

"Noon," you say in a whisper, your stomach now turning with dread. What the hell did beetlejuice just sign up for?

The ground rumbles, you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness, and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open, and there stands what you can only assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.

"I'm looking for trouble," he growls

Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge. You shake your head

"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"

You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame. Beetlejuice did the same.

Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief

"You better spill -" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.

"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused than anything else, not to mention disgusted.

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this overgrown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.

"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy." The ghoul snatches your hat from your hands and roughly puts it back on your head.

"I never agreed to that," you grumble, adjusting your hat.

"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter

"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest, squaring up to the monster

"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man," he shouted

"Ya know you look a lot bigger than your eight by tens. Were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs, pulling a photo from his pocket

"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town, and that's what I aim ta do." The bully snorts

"Alright, bully, make your move," beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter

In a matter of second, the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him

"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks

"Wait!" You shout, dead or not, that's got to hurt

Bully drops Beetlejuice, his attention now on you

"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way in front of you and grabbing your hands. His voice was much less harsh when addressing you. It was nauseating.

"Ugh," you flinch. You'd prefer the same hostility he's shown towards beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heartbeat.

As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.

In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp

"Back off bovine breath," he snorts, jabbing bully in his chest. "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.

You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams.

"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"

Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs

"Beej, I think you should get serious here," you urge. Yes, you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.

He snorts, "Come on, babes, you worry too much. This over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half-hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.

Of course, Beetlejuice wasn't as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.

"Relax, babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes. While he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.

"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams

were the towns folk watching this whole mess?

"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back

"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers in Beetlejuice's ear

And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken

Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding out of town.

"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.

You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms

"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"

"...I just have one question for you"

"Well sure there honey"

"What's the capital on Thailand?"

"What?"

"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch.

Bully drops you and screams. You quickly scramble away, thankful that stupid joke worked.

Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.

Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs. "You should be more careful there, my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"

Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.

...

As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster, Beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse.

"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"

"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a whole herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"

...

"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry" Beetlejuice sighs

"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef. Do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags.

Beetlejuice snorts, "Yeah, like I can see the future -" in a flash, Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap.

The ghoul snorts out a laugh

"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, you were barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen, and all because of him.

"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"

...

So here you were, hand cuffed, now gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your hopes of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.

"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is  Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud," the minister laughs nervously

This was it. You were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer. This had to be a nightmare, right? Any second your alarm would go off, right? Waking you from this disaster, right?

"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"

You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, your knight in stinking armor, standing at the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.

"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.

"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"

"Your what?" You mumble

"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"

"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasn't there 2 minutes ago.

"I-?!" The bully stutters

"You didn't notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance, it was cute and it made your heart skip a beat.

This mirth was short-lived, though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl.

"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS  AND GETS AWAY WITH! IT'S TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Yeah"

"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"

"Name it"

"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"

"YOU GOT IT!"

Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside

"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words, and we can amscray," he whispers to you.

"We can't"

"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean, why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly, you lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you as if to knock some sense into you.

You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I can't live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.

"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles

"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.

"Fine" he grumbles

"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"

Beetlejuice groans

"Also, can I ask one more thing of you, Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling. You could barely move, and the fabric was quite itchy.

"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! Well, if you insist, " the ghoul gingerly reaches for the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed

"I ment with magic." You sigh, not really in the mood for games

"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya," he chuckles sheepishly. With another snap, you were back in your cowboy attire

"Thank you, now, now what about bully?" You sneer

"Sit tight, babes, Bully's got a date with the sheriff"

"No, we can beat him together." You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still a little sore he left you behind.

...

Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town

"Please, for the love of god cheat," you grumble, watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.

"That would be ideal, your friend there couldn't hit the ground with his hat," the mayor buts in to your mutterings

"But I think I have something dumb enough it might just work -" you muse before running off.

"This is it bully. It's time to separate the men from the bulls. There's no tomorrow. It's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"

"Quit stalling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.

"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go. " Beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and easel out of nowhere

"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours -"

Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head

Beetlejuice unfazed snorts. "I really get into my work"

"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beetlejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"

Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"

"Hold it!"

"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you

"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout

"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"

"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"

You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol

"Shoot!" You shout

"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other than luck.

"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams

"I dont know about you, babes, but I could eat." beetlejuice growls, scraping a knife and fork together.

Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.

"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted

"We did it, babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Sheriff, we can't thank you enough." The mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand

"Yup, bully the crud won't be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas, it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs

"WHAT?!" The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees."NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you to take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no  I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"

The mayor sighs, "we lose a lot of them that way..."

"We should get going, Beej." You finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest.

Beetlejuice perks up. "So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero, huh?" Beetlejuice  leans into you, wiggling his eyebrows

"A 'thank you' to the guy whose fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh

"I came back in the nic of time, didn't I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases, nudging his elbow into your arm.

You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant, you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Letting him go, he remains stunned. You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm

"Come on, beetlejuice, let's go home"

"...Right"

It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.

Bonus

To be honest, you were exhausted, between a rough work week and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing. You nearly passed out when you returned home.

But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.

In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.

Yes, beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?

"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.

[servantleverslutdrop]

I feel like dress shoes are either glued together shit leather garbage or absolutely unreasonably priced, with barely any inbetween

[cregansdingdong]

imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇

IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.

At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.

Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)

ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.

With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.

By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.

Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”

It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

[freedomfireflies]

SnakeBite*

Summary: The third part to 404*

The one where Harry is good for more than a good time.

But he's still good at that, too.

Word Count: 5.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Oh, come on…please. Please, don’t do this. Not right now. Not today…please.”

With a deep breath, you stick the key back into the ignition and try again. Waiting anxiously for the sound of the engine roaring to life. A sound you desperately need to hear more than anything.

Instead, all that follows is that familiar clunking of something heavy before there’s a rather shrill buzzing you can’t quite place.

Fuck.

Exasperated and woefully defeated, you take the key back out, groan, and drop your forehead onto the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”

Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. This isn’t the first time your poor car has made this unsettling noise, and perhaps it’s your fault for ignoring it for so long. You hadn’t meant to; you just didn’t realize it was this bad. Or that your car was this old.

Now, you’re trapped in the Juno Incorporated parking lot on a Friday afternoon with no way of getting you or your car home.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

You don’t even bother to lift your head as Harry’s voice carries in through the window. “Nothing. Go away.”

You hear the sound of his boots scraping across the concrete before they stop, and you feel a large shadow fall over your side of the vehicle. “Can I assume that god awful noise came from this hunk of shit you call a car?”

Leaning back, you huff as you look over. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”

Harry smirks, arms crossing over his chest as he juts his chin toward you. “Pop the hood, let me see.”

“Yeah…no.”

“Come on,” he pushes, a few curls dancing across his forehead from a soft gust of wind. You realize he looks different outside of the lab. Normal, almost. It’s unsettling. “You wanna leave, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but knowing you, you’d probably cut my breaks.”

“If I were gonna take you out, I would have done it by now.”

“Oh. Wow. You’re really instilling me with a lot of confidence, thanks.”

He steps back and motions toward the front of your car. “Fucking relax, Tinkerbell, and just pop the goddamn hood.”

Regretfully, you do as instructed before leaning out the open window to watch him walk toward your engine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I know enough,” he replies, using the back of his hand to push on his glasses before bending down.

“That…is not helpful.”

“Well, I’m your only shot. Everyone else is gone.”

“I can call a repair guy.”

He shakes his head once. “Won’t get here in time. It’s rush hour on a Friday. You’ll be here for hours if they even show at all. And chances are, they won’t be able to schedule you in till next week. So, unless you’re planning to sleep here, in your car, can you please shut the fuck up, and let me focus?”

You feel your expression morph into a scowl as you unclick your seatbelt and step out. “I’d rather sleep in my car than trust you to fix my engine.”

You notice his eyes roll, but he’s amused. “Well, I can’t fix it. Not here. I think it’s your spark plugs. They tend to wear out faster in older cars. You’ll probably have to get them replaced.”

Scurrying to stand beside him, you glance over your engine and the internal workings of the car with a heavy sigh.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble beneath another strained groan. “And let me guess, it’s gonna be expensive.”

“Probably,” he agrees, glancing over. “But it’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Your eyes narrow. “I know I can afford it, I just don’t like dropping thousands of dollars on something so dumb.”

“Spark plugs aren’t dumb,” he retorts while reaching for your hood to slam it shut. “You need them to fucking drive.”

“Yeah, but having to pay for a rental car, manual labor, and a tow truck is dumb,” you point out. “And this is the last thing I need right now.”

His eyebrow lifts but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he begins to stride across the lot toward a dark, black Harley, leaving you and your crisis behind.

In turn, you reach for your cellphone to look up local tow trucks and mechanics that might be able to help you out.

To your dismay, most shops are already closed for the weekend, except for one. And after a very lengthy and frustrated discussion, you learn that they won’t be able to come by until much later tonight. Which means that all your hopes of having a nice, relaxing evening are for naught. 

Once again defeated, you slump back against the side of your car and drop your head. “Well…great.”

Harry’s smirk returns as he glances over and straddles his bike. “What?”

“I’m stuck here until midnight,” you mumble, running a palm down the side of your cheek. “You were right, everyone is booked.”

“Shit,” is about all he offers while pulling his helmet over his head. “That sucks.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome.” He revs the engine, and just like that, the bike roars to life. The loud and somewhat startling sound echoing across the parking lot as you flinch.. “So, what’s the plan, Princess? You gonna call an Uber and come back later?”

“I can’t,” you shout over the noise. “I have to be here in case they come early, or they’ll leave.”

Through the open visor, you see him frown. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

He studies you for a moment more, and you feel your skin grow warm under such a scrutinous gaze. Like he’s looking for something written between the lines of your face. “Well…make sure you lock your doors.”

“No shit.”

He smiles again before flipping the visor shut and steadying the bike with his leg. You stand back, ready to watch him speed out of the lot and onto the street, but to your surprise…he simply sits there.

In fact, a good sixty seconds pass before he suddenly slips the helmet off his head, sighs, and thrusts it toward you. “Get on.”

You blink. “What?”

“Get on the fucking bike, Tink,” he repeats. “I know a bar we can hang out in till they get here.”

“I…I just told you, I can’t leave—”

“You can see the parking lot from inside,” he interrupts. “If they show, we can just run back over.”

You step closer, drawn to his proposition, although still wildly confused. “Uh…okay. Why, though? I’m fine to just wait here.”

He looks at you, the grassy green behind his glasses somehow softer in this natural lighting. “S’not safe,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder up. “Be better to wait somewhere public, and I don’t really want your death on my conscience.”

 And you aren’t exactly sure what to say. Because you think this may be the nicest thing he’s ever done for you – even if it’s still a little odd – and you don’t want to spook him by doing the wrong thing.

But as you debate a response, he shakes the helmet at you again, rather aggressively. “Tink, get on the goddamn bike, please. I’m wasting gas here.”

With a huff, you snatch it from his hand and join him on the Harley. The helmet slips on rather easily, and once you’re sure it’s snug and secure, your eyes trail down his back, unsure of how to proceed. 

You don’t exactly want to…hold him. Or touch him or straddle him. At least, not outside of the way you do in secret. In broad daylight. Where people could see.

In fact, you already feel as though you’re grinding against his ass from how small this goddamn seat is. Almost too close for comfort as you catch a subtle trace of his cologne and feel the warmth from his body.

But motorcycles don’t exactly come with seatbelts, and if he were to take a sharp corner, you might end up pancaked on the cement.

“Tinkerbell,” you suddenly hear him call over his shoulder, voice raised to carry over the growl of the engine. “Just fucking grab me, it’s fine.”

You glare at his curls, despite knowing he can’t see you. “I’m good.”

He snorts again before he’s suddenly reaching back, grabbing onto your wrists, and hoisting your arms around his middle.

You’re tugged forward, your chest pressing to his spine rather forcefully as he glances back.

“Pussy,” he murmurs, releasing the clutch until the bike jolts forward and takes off through the parking lot.

With a rather shrill squeal, you tighten your hold on his broad frame, and bury yourself between his shoulder blades. The sensation is exhilarating and frightening all in the same moment. The rush of wind, adrenaline, and the way he leans around the corner before taking off down the street.

You think you feel his chest vibrate with laughter, perhaps from the way your nails are scraping down his shirt. And despite your increasing terror, you find that you feel oddly…safe with him at the handles.

Not even two minutes later, he’s pulling into another parking spot on the other side of the street, right in front of the aforementioned bar. It’s a bar you recognize, one that a few of your other coworkers often frequent from time to time.

In fact, this is the exact same bar you and Harry first hooked up in all those months ago.

The memory makes you smile.

“What?” Harry asks as swings his leg over the side and stands up. “Why are you grinning like that?”

You quickly wipe the smirk from your face while wrestling the helmet off to hand back. “Like what? I’m just smiling, calm down.”

“I don’t like when you smile. It freaks me out.”

“You’re really rude, you know that?”

“What? I’m just being honest. You have a lot of teeth. It’s weird.”

You glower at him, swatting his chest as you brush by. “Bite me, Harold.”

“With what? Your teeth?”

You feign a snubbed gasp – to which he chuckles – before striding into the bar, leaving him to follow behind.

The large room is loud and crowded with people, the smell of alcohol and bad decisions clinging to the air. You make a beeline for the counter, exhausted and overworked and already annoyed by Harry’s future comments before he can even make them.

Like—

“Really? An appletini?” 

With a deep breath, you look over while the bartender turns around to begin prepping your drink. “Yes, really. I like apples. And it’s delicious. And the color is fun.”

He rests an arm on the edge of the marble bar and leans in. “How incredibly boring of you.”

Once again, your expression falls flat. “Are you gonna be this fucking annoying the whole time? Because I’d rather wait by my car and get murdered.”

“I make no promises.”

“Clearly. And let me guess, you’re gonna order something cool and manly like a scotch on the rocks.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks up before he smugly turns toward the bartender and calls, “I’ll have a SnakeBite.”

You can actually feel your eyes roll all the way into the back of your head. “God, you’re fucking pretentious.”

“Thank you,” he says with a smile, and you grit your teeth. “Will you relax? I haven’t even had a drink yet and you’re killing my buzz.”

“I’m not killing anything, I just can’t stand you.”

“No? Ouch. I thought we were friends.”

The sarcasm is evident, but you huff, nevertheless. “For the love of god, shut up.”

“What?” He nods his chin at you. “S’just a drink, don’t be so sensitive.”

“I’m sensitive because you’re annoying.”

“No, you’re sensitive because you’re wound up,” he retorts, eyeing you closely. It makes your skin crawl. “When’s the last time you got off, Tink?”

The inquiry makes you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his judgment. “None of your business.”

“So…couple weeks ago? In the closet, with me?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Your mouth drops open, ready to scoff your resentment and perhaps a quippy remark before he suddenly steps forward and lowers his voice.

“Bet it’s achy, huh?” he coos, and the slight air condescension and sympathy makes your head spin. “Bet you hump your little pillow every night trying to get it done, yeah? But it never works, does it?”

Stunned and left without much remark, your lashes flutter.

He moves closer. “See, if we were friends…I’d offer to take you into the bathroom and help you out. But since you think you can do better…go ahead.”

He leans back while you gape at him. “I’m sorry…go ahead and do what?”

“Find someone,” he answers, glancing around the packed bar. “Take ‘em into the bathroom and let them bend you over the sink.”

“You can’t be serious—”

“Why not?” His eyebrow raises. “That’s the whole reason people come to bars. To get drunk and fuck.”

“Well…that’s not why I’m here.”

“It could be.”

“Harry…no—”

“Why? Seriously, why not? You need it.”

“I don’t…you’re so fucking rude, I don’t need to get off—”

“Coming is good for your health. And for your unfavorable attitude—”

“Oh, you are so fucking—”

“Rude? Annoying? Doesn’t make me any less right.”

You clamp your mouth shut and step closer, letting your gaze travel the expanse of his face. “Come on, Harry,” you murmur softly – salaciously – as his breath seems to catch. “Do you really think…you could watch me with some other guy?”

His expression twists, his mouth already forming around something else snappy and crude.

But it seems to get stuck on his tongue when you suddenly reach out and trail your fingers down his chest. Moving in until there’s only a single breath between you.

“Do you really think…you could watch me touch them?” you whisper, glancing down to your hand as it grazes over his pec. “Or know that they had me dripping down their cock…the way I always drip for you?”

He wants to fight you. Wants to snort and look away.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s mesmerized by the power you so easily stole from him. Undone by the sound of your voice taunting him with an idea he can’t seem to stomach.

“Wanna know I’m whimpering their name the way I always whimper yours?” you continue, smoothing your other palm up the back of his neck. Squeezing just hard enough to make him straighten up. “Wanna see the marks on my throat from where they held me—”

“Easy,” he warns lowly, reaching up to snatch your wrist. But he doesn’t move you. “Not here—”

“Why?” You push up onto your tiptoes and let your lips ghost over his. “Who’s gonna see, hm? Who’s gonna care?”

His lashes flutter, eyes traveling down to your mouth. “Are you this desperate for it, Princess? Wanna fuck me right here in the middle of the bar? Make them watch?”

You smile, head tilting until the tip of your nose dances across his cheek. “Maybe,” you nearly purr. “Bet you like to be watched. You always like watching me.”

And maybe he knows you’re merely playing a game. Teasing him just to throw him off track and test his patience.

But he plays along, eager to see where it might lead. “Can’t help it,” he replies calmly, smirking himself. “Y’just always look so pretty when you’re three fingers deep in your cunt.”

“Yeah?” Your nails scratch at the soft curls near the nape of his neck. “Funny how I can make myself squirt better than you can.”

He exhales a rather sadistic chuckle while his arm reaches to loop around your waist, pulling your chest flush with his. “I wasn’t trying to make you squirt.”

“No?”

His head shakes once. “No. Trust me, Tink. If I wanted to…I would.”

“Then maybe you should.”

His lips part just enough to tease you with a taste. “Maybe I will.”

“Yeah? Right here? In front of everybody?”

Another grin. “I could. Be so fucking easy, too. Bend you over the bar, pull your soaked little panties down…spread you open so they can see how much of a dirty little cumslut you are.”

And perhaps this started as a ruse, but just the thought and the tantalizing way he speaks breeds a new inspiration.

“Cause you are, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, large hand pressing hard against your spine. “My dirty, fucking Princess? Get all wet and weepy from just a couple words?”

You swallow a whimper trying desperately to come free.

“Should I check?” he whispers, now subtly moving you over until your back meets the counter. “Hm? See if you’re as wound up as I think you are?”

You rifle through your list of responses but find that you have none to offer as his fingers delicately begin to trace the edge of your jeans. Provoking you further.

You reckon you should probably stop him. Point out what an idiotic idea this is and remind him that he’s still very much in public, surrounded by people.

But his body blocks you from most of the crowd, and nobody else is close enough to notice. And you suppose that even if they did look over, they wouldn’t exactly be able to see or understand.

His eyes flick to yours, looking for hesitation. But when he finds none, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a pleased smile.

“Dirty Princess,” he teases, sliding his hand into your pants as subtly as he can while you quickly glance around for prying eyes. “That’s right, Tink. Look at them.”

 The feel of his cold fingers against your warm skin is like ecstasy, sending a rush of adrenaline straight down to your toes.

You gasp quietly to mask a whine, vision going hazy as you watch him study you. 

“Oh, sweetie,” he tsks, smoothing his touch through your folds. Spreading and stroking as you reel. “Poor fucking thing. Did’ya get yourself all wet for me?”

“No,” you manage to reply, heart hammering against your rib cage when he smirks. “I was watching TikTok’s of Andrew Garfield earlier. This is for him.”

“Ah,” he hums, but he’s wildly amused, hand still cupping you gently before he swiftly pulls out and leaves you to wilt. “Well, in that case…”

He steps away, fingers tucked between his lips as he pretends to turn around.

However, before he can get far, you manage to capture a fistful of his shirt and yank him back to you. 

And you kiss him. Without reluctance or fear. You kiss him, and you sigh against his mouth, and swallow his surprised but greedy moan.

His hands are on your hips, squeezing and pulling, desperate to tug you further into his frame. 

You go willingly, becoming pliable in his hands. A few people cheer from beside you, raising their glasses and whistling like drunken animals. 

But it makes you both smile, suddenly unencumbered by the ideas of what people might think or who might see.

And it’s strange to feel so at peace in his arms. Unnatural almost to find relief in his lips or safety in his presence. Because this is still the same Harry that would let you drown before he jumped in after you. That would rather tell you off than tell you he likes you – even as an acquaintance. 

You’re not enemies, per se. You imagine you’re both too old for such childish rivalries. But he’s cruel and rude and blunt. His ego rivals the size of the moon, and his lack of care and inhibitions is proof that he could never be who you’d need him to be.

But that’s okay, you realize. You find serenity in the sadistic, strange behavior. Because it means you don’t have to commit to giving him anything more than what he deserves.

His tongue leaves a quick lick to yours before he pulls back and studies you from behind the dark frames of his glasses. “I need to fuck you.”

And you almost laugh at the frank way he speaks. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” His palm slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing it one, twice, three times. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

“Ew, no. I’m not fucking you in a crusty ass bathroom in a sketchy bar,” you retaliate with a scrunch of your nose. “Pick somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anywhere else,” he huffs. “Unless you really do want me to fuck right here in front of everybody.”

“That’s not funny.”

“M’not trying to be funny. I’m trying to fuck you.”

“Well…try harder.”

His eyes narrow. “Fine, you wanna fuck me on my bike?”

You blink. “Okay, that’s really not funny.”

“What?” He’s grinning again, and you hate the way his dimples pop out. Hate how charming they make him look. “Come on, I ride the bike, you ride me.”

You snort as you turn around to take a sip of your drink. “I’d rather get herpes.”

“Wow. Classy. Real fucking classy—”

“Admit it, you’ve had it before—”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“Well, you can’t. Remember?”

He scoffs. “Then where the fuck do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Literally anywhere else?”

“Well, I’m not taking you back to mine.”

“No? You don’t want me to see the bridge you live under?”

“Troll jokes. Funny.”

“Thank you, I thought so. It’s very fitting.”

His expression falls flat before he sighs and steps closer again. “Meet me in the fucking bathroom,” he repeats quietly, “and let me fuck you. Let me make it better.”

You want to remind him – again – that a dirty bathroom in a crowded bar isn’t exactly the best place. You’d never get a moment of privacy, and the position would most likely be wildly uncomfortable.

But suddenly, none of your reasons seem to matter. Because it hurts to be away from him. Actually aches between your thighs, forcing you to swallow thickly.

So, instead of responding with an actual answer, you simply take his hand, and drag him through the crowd.

You catch his smug smile – and resist the urge to slap the glasses off his face – before yanking him into the hall and toward the bathroom.

You both stumble through the door, already back on each other’s lips. Kissing, and groping, and groaning as you work to get the lock flipped.

You pause for only a moment to make sure the single stall restroom is in fact empty while Harry uses this as encouragement to begin nipping down the side of your neck. 

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he moans against the heat of your skin, exhaling his relief and lust all in the same breath.

His touch is firm – pointed and almost painful – as he pushes you back toward the wall. You gasp when you meet the cold, hard cement, lashes fluttering from the force and the sound of his belt coming undone.

He nods his chin at you, entertained by your fascination. “Come on, Princess. You’ve seen my cock before.”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you murmur, swallowing thickly when he pulls himself out. “Before I change my mind and find somebody else."

He scoffs with a smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

He gives himself a few pumps, growing harder in his palm before he lets go and moves his attention to your jeans. He’s got them down your legs and pooled around your ankles in under thirty seconds flat, your panties soon following suit.

But he teases you for just a moment. Because of course he does, the sadistic fucker. Needing to hear you beg for him before he actually gives you what you both want.

“Harry,” you huff, glancing down as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “We don’t have time, and the floor is dirty. Just do it.”

“Just do it? How romantic,” he snorts before obliging and straightening back up. “Thought girls liked foreplay.”

“We do, but not in gross, dirty bathrooms.”

“Fine. Next time.”

And for some reason, the casual way he refers to the future makes your head spin. You always assume the two of you will continue from time to time. But hearing him promise to take care of you again…

It’s almost…nice? 

Pushing the thought aside, you begin to turn around, hands pressing into the wall to brace yourself in preparation for what comes next.

But just as you’re getting comfortable, he suddenly grabs onto your hips, and spins you forward once again.

“No,” he murmurs softly, pretty green eyes trailing down your face. “No, I wanna see you this time.”

“Oh,” you whisper, skin growing hot as he steps between your legs. “Okay…?”

He grins lightly before reaching up to trail his thumb along your bottom lip. “I like watching you get all sappy when I fuck you. The way you grin when it feels good.”

Suddenly, your pulse starts to stagger. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like your smile.”

You suck in quiet breath. “I thought it creeped you out. That I had too many teeth.”

He chuckles to himself before taking hold of his cock and bringing it closer, trailing it between your legs. “You do. But that’s what makes you so beautiful.”

You think he must be out of his mind. Lost on the idea of sex and pleasure and SnakeBite’s. Tipsy and not all there. Because the Harry you know would never say something like that to you.

But you suppose you don’t really know Harry at all.

With that final thought, he hoists your leg over his hip, and begins to push in. It’s slow at first. You’re tense from the surroundings, from the loud sounds of the bar just on the other side of the wall, and from his admission.

But he loves it, cursing through gritted teeth before surging forward to kiss you. “Tink, you gotta fucking relax. Y’know I can’t do it if you don’t let me in.”

“Try…trying,” you pant, head falling back against the wall with a thud. “Sorry. Just go.”

He frowns, eyes rolling as his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose. “M’not gonna go if you’re not stretched, Princess. I’m not trying to hurt you—”

“I don’t care,” you argue with a soft whine. “Really, I don’t care. Just go. Make it hurt.”

He releases your leg to slip his fingers just below your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. “Stop. M’not gonna do that, just relax.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth. “Come on, sweetie. Know you can do it. Know you always take me so well, don’t you?”

You nod fervently. “Yes…yeah, yes—”

“Then take me,” he whispers, his free fingers finding your clit. He rubs, and presses, and pinches until he feels you begin to unwind. “There you go…there she is, that’s my girl. S’better, isn’t it? Yeah? Gonna let me in now?”

You can’t exactly speak, already lost in the pleasure and the fullness his thick cock provides as it pushes past your walls and settles nearly in your belly.

The sound you make is depraved and eager, and it makes him smile. “That good, huh? So fucking cute how cockdrunk you get.”

“Shut…up,” you huff before reaching for his hair. “Faster.”

“Faster,” he repeats to himself, hips pulling back just to snap forward. “Always want it fast, don’t you? Never want me to take my time.”

“Cause I don’t want your dick in me longer than it needs to be,” you retort, but you both know that’s not true. “Fucking hurry—”

With a sharp and sudden thrust, he changes the pace. Obeying your command for fast and hard as your bodies shake with pleasure and force. 

And you imagine it should feel quite strange to be so enamored by one man – one cock. But here you are, panting, and gasping, and whimpering as he fucks you against this bathroom wall. Ignoring the pounding of the fists against the door from people wanting to be let in.

He kisses you. Kisses all of you. Your lips, your cheek, your chin, your nose, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Tugs on your skin with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the tortured flesh. 

His hand dances underneath your shirt. Palm smoothing up your stomach and over the cup of your bra. Slipping just far enough inside to knead you in his grasp. Make you whimper and push closer.

And he’s so warm. All of him is warm and soft and strong. He smells like mahogany and sex, and he feels like ecstasy.

You love his hands. The veins in his arms, the bulge of his muscles. The tan of his skin and the way he holds you. 

He might be infuriating, but my god is he fun to look at. 

“Fucking shit,” he snaps, readjusting his angle to make sure he’s fucking into you just right. “So fucking good, Tink. You’re shaking, sweetie. You close already?”

You can’t respond with words, instead clenching around him in an effort to prove his point.

He smirks, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back into place. “Good. Want you to come all over my cock, baby. Want you to soak me. Can y’do that for me, Princess? Can you soak my cock?”

You think you know what he means, but truth be told, you aren’t sure if you can. You’ve only done it twice before – by your own hand, not his – and you wonder if you’d even be able to like this.

But the question is answered for you when he moves just enough to find that sweet, spongy spot that unravels you faster than lightning. 

He hits it over and over and over – perhaps without even realizing – and when you suddenly begin to cry out his name…he understands.

He watches as it happens, aiding in your pleasure by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to your clit. 

The ministrations are ruthless and beautiful, and it almost distracts you from the gushing between your legs, and the way you soak his thighs.

“Shit,” you think you hear him groan, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “So fucking good, Tink. Yeah, just like that. That’s good, baby, keep going. Give me all of it. Fucking all of it, sweetie, yeah.”

And just before you can go sliding down the wall out of pure exhaustion…he follows. Pressing his chest into yours to keep you upright as he spills inside your pussy, creating a bigger mess than before. 

Everything is wet and sticky and warm. He’s breathing into your neck, holding onto your body so tight, you imagine you’ll see memories of him tomorrow. 

And you stay, just for a moment. Learning how to take in air again and waiting for the feeling to return to your muscles.

“You okay?” he finally asks, exhaling the question into the sweaty skin of your throat. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

Your smile is lazy as you shake your head. “It would take a lot more than you to break me.”

And he laughs. In the kind of way that makes you clench around him again.

Which only makes him laugh harder.

“I fucking hope so.”

Next Part:

~ Jealous*

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[elysia-nsimp]

Hello scary Danganronpa community I would like to leave my Korekiyo redesign here an an offering please do not hunt me for sport /hj

Details and stuff (giant bricks of autistic text) below cut

Okay so in canon, we know Kiyo’s sister made his uniform and (I THINK) (DONT QUOTE ME ON THIS) he canonically doesn’t like it very much but wears it because of the whole… sister thing.

This redesign is meant to NOT be just a replacement of the OG design, but takes place in a non-despair AU where Kiyo actually learns that the relationship he had with his sister was NOT a healthy one. He gets support from his classmates and possibly the therapy he DESPERATELY NEEDS, and after beginning to accept his situation, he makes his OWN uniform with help and input from his peers.

That being said, what all did I do and what was my thought process?

- his og outfit was highly inspired by military-style clothing, and. *The anti-semetic armband.* so all that went in the trash because I didn’t like it

- I put him in more comfy traveling clothes—a soft button-up, a cardigan, slightly baggy pants, high travel boots. He travels a lot so might as well be comfy for it! The boots have a fluffy lining for cold weather

- I changed the hat. He needed a hat still but I changed it from a military style hat to a sea man type hat. It just felt right.

- kept the mask, but he wears it more because of his travels—lots of diseases. + his sister died of illness so he’s cautious about that. (I did change some of his story too but I tried to keep the big plot points while not romanticizing it)

- kept the bandages too. He does a lot of field work so I imagine he gets scratches a lot. Just another precaution to protect himself when traveling.

- I wanted to use the rope and rose motifs in his official art. I was so disappointed there wasn’t more of that. So his cardigan and pants have matching vine patterns and he has a rope tied around his waist—it’s there because sometimes you need a rope yknow. It’s a tool but also stylish/hj

- it’s commented on in the game how he’s very feminine (QUEER) and how he “has the kind of beauty that puts female colleagues to shame” ??? which is a weird way of forshadowing BUT I decided he gets to have long eyelashes and longer nails.

- his locket has been moved from his breast pocket to a necklace.

- and lastly I kinda liked the weird stringy hair thing Danganronpa does sometimes?? I just gave it more volume because . Yeah.

So yeah those are my big notes. How about some more story-based explanations?

- Kiyo got used to the darker palette (plus it keeps the mysterious spooky vibe the creators were going for), so he just kept that.

- all the material is soft and breathable, which was his priority when looking for the base clothing pieces!

- Angie helped him with the rose and vines! They’re embroidered. All Kiyo said was that he felt it was all very green and wanted to bring back some red, something about roses, and that’s what Angie came up with for him. He really liked how it came out

So yeah :] I hope y’all enjoy, I like the final product. Definitely not intended to be canon in the event of the killing game universe but I’ve always preferred exploring non-despair AUs.

If anyone WANTS to hear about the story changes I made lmk but uhhh I’m not making that my first Danganronpa post ahahahahahahha (<- read this as frightened and shaking like a chihuahua)

Again please don’t shoot me point blank danganronpa community

[yeollie-plz]

Maids A Milking

Day 8 of Pedromas! | Masterlist

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: You are pretty far along in your pregnancy and you are finding a few new issues that come with it. Joel helps you out.

Genre: smut

Warnings: lactation kink, fingering, pregnancy, mentions of babies, mentions of medical issues, pregnancy kink

Gif credits to owners!

You were now seven months pregnant and things were gradually getting more painful to do. Your body ached, your feet were swollen, and your boobs hurt. All of this would be bad enough, if you weren't also horny all the time as well. Just the smell of your husband, Joel, got you all hot and bothered.

So when he walked in that day and you were sitting on the couch, shirt open, massaging your sore breasts, an idea popped into your head. The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor got louder as he got closer. Finally his form came into view, his eyebrows raising in question at the movement of your hands.

"They hurt." You said to him, without him needing to ask. "Can you help me?" The implication of your words wasn't lost on Joel.

"Darlin' I don't know. I-"

You cut him off, "Joel, please." Now you were basically whining.

"Baby", he warned.

"I just need you to drain some of the milk, they are so full." You were desperate for some relief and if it also got him into the mood, well you weren't complaining.

The seduction that was dripping from your words finally drew Joel towards you. Crossing the room, he stood over you. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at him, stroking your jawline.

"Do you know what you're asking from me?" All you do is nod in response. His eyes darken as he drops to his knees.

Lightly he removes your own hands from your breasts and replaces it with his own. He massages softly, causing you to whimper out at the slight pain.

"So sensitive." You whisper.

He hums in response and continues to massage. He starts to massage deeper, letting you to get some real relief.

"Joel please, put your mouth on me." He follows your orders, first kissing your nipple, before wrapping his mouth around it.

He sucks for a bit before pulling off with a light pop. Joel blows onto your nipple making it harden at the cold temperature. Whining again at the way he is teasing you, you squirm, hips bucking slightly.

"Really getting turned on for me, aren't you baby?"

You words are more like a whimpered when you say, "Yes, need you."

He replies by reattaching his lips to your now overly sensitive nipples, resuming his sucking. He focuses on the right breast for a bit, massaging and sucking it. Your hips continue to buck as you want more of him. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at how desperate you are and places a hand on your hips to hold you still.

He now moves onto your left boob, doing the same thing to it as he was to the right one. A gasp leaves your lips as he sucks particularly hard, causing a bit of milk to leak from your breast and into his mouth.

A sound of content comes out of him at the taste of you. Your gasps continue as he continues to suckle milk from your breast. The soreness that was previously there now fading as a bit of the pressure is released.

When he feels you have had enough, he pulls off of you. He scans your body trying to read your emotions. You are slumped back, trying to catch your breath. He laughs lightly. Joel runs his hand down your chest to the button of your pants.

"Look so pretty all swollen with my child baby, let me show you my gratitude." He pops the button of your pants open and helps you to shimmy them down just enough to reveal your dripping center to him.

His fingers swipe across the outside of your panties, feeling how soaked you have made them. You moan out at the smallest of touches, causing him to chuckle once again.

Joel pushes his hand past your waistband, now feeling your wetness fully. He barely teases the the slit before inserting a finger into you. Your hips buck up in response, finally getting the stretch that you needed.

He reattaches his mouth to your right tit, sucking on the nipple harshly. He lets his teeth scrape against it, causing you to moan and grab his shoulder for some sort of grounding.

He continues his motions on both your nipple and core. The feeling sending you close to the edge very quickly. As your moans increase, so does his pace. Knowing that you are close, he inserts another finger into.

His thrusts quicken, trying to drag your orgasm out of you. Just as you are tipped over the edge, milk bursts from your breast into Joel's mouth. The two feelings together make the orgasm so much more intense. You see white, moaning endlessly. You are now twisting with no control on Joel's hand.

His fingers work you through your orgasm as he happily sucks the milk from your breast. As your breathing calms he slowly pulls his fingers from inside of you and detaches his mouth from your nipple.

"Better?"

"Better."

<- Previous Day | Next Day ->

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[davidlcki]

payment

pairing:low honor! arthur x reader

warnings: cursing, arthur is mean, being forced to drink, age gap, game typical violence. i think that’s it

summary: your parents take a loan from strauss, and when they can’t afford it, they send you off as payment instead. it’s a 3 day journey back to the van der linde camp. will you turn the notorious gunslinger soft?

an: please let me know how you guys feel about this one! i’ve been dealing with severe writers block so this took me MONTHS to write. it might not be my best, but i’m just happy to get something out. enjoy, i love you all! ❤️

words: 5,562 (my longest yet i think)

part 2

shouting from downstairs violently ripped you from your deep sleep, and quickly, you hopped out of bed. your hands shook as you slowly opened your door and made your way to the top of the steps.

“the money. NOW.”

you flinched at the harshness of the man’s words. instantly you knew it was the debt collectors, and that your family had nowhere near the amount needed to pay it off. you listened to your mother and father plead with the man for another week, but he wasn’t having it. at the sound of a gun cocking, your legs began to move on their own. you were bolting down the stairs.

“STOP! please, please don’t hurt them!” you hold your hands out desperately, standing between the man and your parents, who were dead silent. the man paused, the anger in his features seemed to be replaced with amusement. this was the moment that you recognized who this man was. you had seen him in many bounty posters around strawberry, he was arthur morgan.

“well now, why didn’t ya tell me about this fine young lady?” arthur’s gaze drifted from you to your parents, who were looking at each other with a look you couldn’t read. nervously, you looked between your parents and arthur. why weren’t they saying anything?

“she’ll do as payment just fine” arthur shrugs, holstering his gun and giving an easy smile, as if this was no big deal, just another day. you turned to your parents quickly, shaking your head and backing away from arthur.

“please don’t…” you looked between your mother and father desperately. finally, your father speaks.

“take her. if it works as payment, take her.” time seemed to slow as you stared at your father who wouldn’t look you in the eyes. your mother was looking down, you could tell she was holding back tears, but she stayed silent.

“what? wait, wait just-” you glanced at the door quickly, thinking of ways to escape. arthur, was quick to place his hand on his holstered gun.

“i wouldn’t, if i were you.” arthur’s voice was suddenly much lower, and his easy smile was gone in an instant. you knew there was no other way. you turned to your parents, lips in a flat line as you stared at them. you were thinking of what you could possibly say to them, when arthur’s rough hand had a grip on your upper arm.

“your own daughter…for some fucking cash…” your voice was shaky as you were being pulled towards the door. barely having time to slip your boots on, you give your parents one last look before you were out of sight.

for a while, it was silent. you were too in shock to cry or do much of anything, but think.

“we’ll camp here for the night” arthur’s voice startled you out of your thoughts, most of them being how to escape this situation. for now, he had at least some form of trust in you, considering your hands were untied.

arthur morgan was more of a myth than a person, to you. you heard the stories of the hundreds he’s killed and you knew this was probably a bad idea, but you needed to try an escape. once he hopped off his horse, you grabbed onto the reigns and kicked your heels into its sides, but it didn’t budge. the damned horse stayed dead still. the air seemed to thicken as you continued to attempt to get the horse to take off with a series of ‘hyah’s’ and ‘go’s’, but his horse was loyal, seeming to listen to him and only him. when you looked over, you swore you saw flames in arthur’s eyes.

plan b.

from the horse, you deliver a kick into arthur’s chest with all the power you could muster. just as his horse, he dosent budge. arthur lunges forwards, pulling you off the horse roughly and ignoring the protests coming from you as he threw you over his shoulder. you pounded relentlessly on his back, but he didn’t so much as flinch. instead, he tightened his grip on you, nearly squandering your ability to breathe. once finding a clearing about 30 feet into the woods, he throws you onto the grass and pulls out his lasso. you take a few seconds to catch your breath, but you don’t have time to move or get any words out. effortlessly, arthur ties the rope around your wrists and ankles before you could flip over, rendering you immobile.

“bastard! you let me go!” you finally manage to turn yourself onto your back and struggle against the rope that dug into your skin. arthur, clearly unamused at your shouting, sinks down to your level on the ground. his hips were nearly straddling yours as he kneeled and grabbed your face with a rough hand.

“watch it girl.” his voice was drawn out and easy, giving you the impression that he’s done this many times before. he releases his grip on your jaw, and brushes a strand of hair from your forehead. “don’t forget i know where you live. dont try nothin’, less you’re fixin’ to watch your parents die”.

“i don’t…. i don’t care about them anymore. they sold me. pawned me like trash.” your voice was shaky as you spoke up at him, and for a while the both of you sat and stared at each other, heavy breath fanning over your faces. arthur almost had a look of understanding for a moment. it was true. you were angry at them for so carelessly giving you away for their own benefit. in fact, you didn’t know who you were angrier at. arthur, or your own parents. finally, arthur hums and stands. you didn’t dare move from your spot on the ground, instead, you silently watched arthur set up camp. you really were afraid that he’d kill you if you so much as moved. you could see in his eyes that he was only going to let that trick you tried slide once.

you shivered and let out a ragged exhale, still catching your breath as the wind was knocked out of you not long ago. you were desperate for fire, for any kind of warmth. you were only in boots and a thin nightgown, that did much of nothing as the cold from the ground seeped into you.

“cold?” arthur stands next to your shivering frame on the ground. you say nothing, instead giving him an unamused glare. you refused to let him see you cry, so you threw on your best angry facade. you stiffened as he leaned down and lifted you, not letting out a breath of air until you were put down again. now, you were resting against a tree in front of the fire. you let out an inner sigh of relief at the warmth. arthur sits across from the fire, taking a bite of jerky from his satchel.

“so, that’s your parents farm huh? pretty nice, all considering.” arthur pauses, but you say nothing. “live there your whole life?” you didn’t even really hear his question as you asked your own.

“where are you takin’ me?” you watch arthur’s face carefully as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“you’re joining the gang” arthur flicks the end of his cigarette, the ashes slowly float to the ground. “we need more hands. more people to help fight.”

“i’m no good at fighting” your voice was quiet, you were starting to realize you weren’t getting out of this.

“you will be. now,” arthur stands up and pulls more rope from his horses satchel “rest up, got a long day of riding tomorrow” you scoff as he begins to wrap the rope around you and the tree you were against.

“is this necessary?” arthur says nothing, instead pulling the rope tighter. after, he goes back to his spot, pulling his hat over his face and letting out a rather large sigh. for a long time, you didn’t sleep. instead, you relentlessly tugged and pulled at the rope restraining you. you knew it was pointless, but you couldn’t help trying. your face twisted in pain as your arms scratched against the rough tree bark. arthur must have been very confident in the knots he tied, because you very quickly heard soft snores drifting from across the fire. after what seemed like hours, and a few shed tears, you fell into a restless sleep.

•••

when you awoke the next morning, arthur was up, packing supplies into his horses satchel and humming to himself softly. you stayed silent, observing the man who was so mean to you do a task so mundane. when you looked down, you noticed arthur’s brown coat was thrown over your frame. it smelled like tobacco and gunpowder. when arthur noticed you were up, he quickly took his jacket back and went over to untie the rope holding you to the tree.

“morning sunshine” he throws you a smile as he pulls the rope from around the tree off, along with the rope on your ankles.

“i trust you won’t run”

“no” your voice was hoarse and you shivered violently as the wind attacked your bare skin that was previously covered. arthur stopped, thinking for a second as he took in your frame with a slow look from your head to your ankles and back up again. he pulls you to your feet, letting you catch your footing on wobbly legs as he rummaged around for his canteen. he flicks the cap off and grabs your jaw so roughly and suddenly that you let out an involuntary gasp of shock. he turns your face towards him and inspects you for a second before continuing. you could only wonder what he was thinking, his lip twitching ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile as he continued.

“drink” he puts the canteen to your mouth and watches as you desperately gulped down the water. after about 5 seconds, he pulled it away, taking a swig of the liquid himself before stowing it back on his horse.

“long ride ahead,” arthur lifts you onto his horse before hopping in front of you in the saddle, “gonna take a few days i reckon, so get comfortable”.

arthur wasn’t lying. you rode all day, so long that you couldn’t remember what direction you came from or how to get back home. although that outcome was unlikely now. desperate to escape the cold, you pressed yourself against arthur’s back. you felt him stiffen at the contact, but were too cold to care. you couldn’t count the hours it’d been, and for a while you were pretty sure you fell asleep. throughout the day, you only made a few stops. one for bathroom breaks, and one for his horse to rest. the rest of the day was a blur, not much was said, and the only noise you heard was the trotting of hoofs on the ground and the rustle of trees in the wind. when the sun began to set, arthur finally pulled to a stop.

“seems like a good spot” arthur observes the clearing, giving you a stern look before hopping off of his horse, remembering the stunt you pulled last time.

“gonna tie me to a tree again?” your voice was dripping in sarcasm as you allowed him to pull you off the horse.

“you gonna make me?” arthur’s tone matched yours as he pulled out his bedroll and some other supplies. you waited for the extra rope to come, but it never did. arthur instead unties your hands, then reties them in front of you. you audibly sigh at the discomfort that began to dissipate, and you rolled your shoulders a few times in satisfaction.

“y’ dont wanna run off in these parts,” arthur warns as the fire lights up the clearing. “the people will get to ya before the animals do.” you said nothing in response. for a few hours, you stayed dead silent. ignoring arthur’s snarky comments and nothing more than blinking when he’d toss the end of a cigarette or a twig off the ground at you. arthur began to heat a small can of stew, smiling teasingly as he watches you eye it. he pulls gin out of his pocket, downing a hefty swig.

“if you want some, you gotta speak, girl.” arthur eats a large scoop of stew, groaning dramatically in satisfaction in an attempt to tease you.

“fuck you. that enough?” arthur snorts a laugh at your response, deciding to give you a bite. you quickly chew and swallow it, savoring the taste.

“what’s your name anyway?” arthur pauses, scooping out some more stew and holding it up. “you answer me if you wanna eat.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N” arthur feeds you the stew and downs more gin. halfway through the bottle now.

“Y/N” the way your name rolled off his tongue sent a chill down your spine. “you gotta pretty name, Y/N. how old are ya?”

you eye the man for a while, before looking back down to the tempting spoon of stew. “i’m 22. now can you feed me the god damn food?” you were getting testy now, watching arthur eat and down almost an entire bottle of gin while you’ve had nothing for over a day will do that to you.

“you got a mouth on ya!” arthur let’s out a laugh, feeding you another bite and finishing the rest of the stew himself. he stands up, stretching his legs and yawning, before walking over to you casually. nervously, you watch as arthur squats down to be eye level with you.

“sleep” a small smile crosses his face, confusing you. then, he places a hand on your shoulder and shoves you to the side so you’re in a laying position in the grass. a yelp escapes your lips as you hit the ground. “night”

you watch in disbelief as arthur goes to his spot on the bed roll, very quickly falling asleep with his hat on his face as usual. now was your turn. you thought about running, but had a feeling that arthur wasn’t lying about the people around these parts. slowly, you drifted to sleep in the damp grass.

•••

you woke up to the sound of footsteps crunching in the dead leaves. instantly you were alert. when you looked over, arthur was still passed out. you guessed the gin running through his veins was doing its work. you stayed silent, sitting up slowly and looking into the dark of the forrest around you. the fire was almost out at this point. you tugged anxiously at the ropes binding your hands. there were the footsteps again, from behind you this time. you knew those weren’t from an animal. before you could react, a man came running out of the woods. he was on you in seconds, knife in hand. you let out a scream of terror as you were slammed onto your back. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the knife to be plunged into your chest, but it never came. instead, there was a gunshot that seemed to shake the forest. when you opened your eyes, there was a bullet hole between the eyes of the man as he crumpled on top of you. the weight of him smothered the cry that you tried to let out. arthur was over in seconds, shoving the body off of you and pulling you to a sitting position. there was genuine worry that you saw for a mere second in his face.

“y’ alright?” he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes as he looked you over for stab wounds. he was half awake, trying to make sense of what was going on. as you opened your mouth to speak, another man emerged from the dark of the woods. he shoved arthur over, effectively knocking the gun from his hands. you were in a trance, looking between arthur, the man, and the pistol laying right in front of you. arthur’s voice startled you out of it. his voice was strained as he called your name out, he was using all his strength to hold the knife mere inches away from his chest. with your tied hands, you picked up the pistol. it was heavier than you expected.

“do… it…” his eyes pleaded with you, meanwhile, the tip of the knife was beginning to sink into his chest. without anymore hesitation, you aimed at the attackers head and pulled the trigger. your ears rung more than the first gunshot that was fired earlier, and you noticed the almost painful vibrations that flowed through your hands. arthur let’s out a sigh of relief, pushing the body off of him and sitting up, before quickly freezing again. he stared at you blankly as you continued to point the pistol at him.

“Y/N…” he holds his hands up and shakes his head. “y’ don’t wanna do this”

you looked at him for a long while, tears were dripping down your cheeks and your hands were shaking violently. you were debating killing him right here and now. but how would you make it in there woods? how would you find your way back? then, you remembered why you were here in the first place, and how your parents threw you out without a thought. finally, slowly, you lowered the gun, arthur took this oppertunity to snatch it from your hands, before audibly exhaling. he watched carefully as you broke down in tears, hugging onto yourself the best you could with tied hands and trying to wipe blood off of your nightgown.

“hey… i uh…” arthur didnt know what to say as he placed a hand upon your shoulder in attempted reassurance. to his surprise, you threw yourself into his embrace. slowly, he wrapped his arms around your frame and listened to you cry. he noticed the red marks on your wrists under the rope, and was shocked at the pang of guilt he felt. without thinking, he takes out his hunting knife and cuts the rope off of you. you use this time to wrap your arms around his waist. arthur slowly runs a hand up and down your back as you continued to sob.

“i’m scared, arthur.” was all you could get out. you had never killed a man before, and the reality was setting in. all arthur could do was mutter an awkward series of ‘it’s alright’ and ‘i’m here’s’ until you calmed down enough to let go. arthur was almost sad at the loss of your presence, and he wished he could rip this part of him out. this part that yearned for love and affection and what he was just finding out, you. half of him screamed as he draped his coat around your shoulders, while the other half cheered.

you avoided eye contact with the gunslinger as you attempted to get your tears under control, pulling his coat around yourself gingerly.

“thank you… for not letting me be killed” you kept your eyes on the fire, too afraid to look at arthur or the bodies or the blood on your skin.

“and thank you, for not shootin’ me along with this feller” you let out a scoff, lips twitching up into a small smile you mustered up. arthur took the time to move the bodies away from camp and your sight, eventually returning and sitting down again. there was a new feeling in the air between you and the gunslinger. a bond forged in blood and death. arthur never tied your hands again, and he kept watch the rest of the night. though neither of you got another wink of sleep, you stayed close to each other, shoulders touching as you sat side by side. you asked arthur plenty of questions about his gang. you were genuinely curious what it was like. you could tell he was fond of them by the way his features softened at just the thought. you realized, they were family, and it didn’t sound so bad. after hours of trying to will the sun to come up faster, it finally rose, and you were more than glad to keep moving.

you couldn’t tell how long it’d been now. you slept for a while the way you have been, your face pressed against arthur’s back in a somewhat comfortable position, but when you opened your eyes again you were in a town. upon reading the sign, you realized it was valentine. you could hear the chatter in the distance, and your eyes lit up with surprise. it had been days since you’d seen another person besides arthur. arthur must have felt you sit up straighter, because he quickly stopped his horse and looked back at you.

“i trust you’re not gonna try no shit?” he asks, exhaling cigarette smoke from his lungs. you hold back the urge to cough as the smoke wafts over your face. he observes you for a second more before straightening your messy hair. you knew it was so you looked more presentable to the town, but it was oddly gentle, intimate.

“no, but people are going to ask questions, arthur.” you spit his name out, and reference down to your now dirty and tattered nightgown. you were upset at the shift between you both after what you went through the night before, and it was hard for you to contain your anger as you spoke. the lack of food and clean clothes was starting to get to you. arthur stares at you for a while, before sighing heavily. though he still gave you attitude, you were surprised with the patience he was beginning to keep with you.

“okay… here” after a second of thinking, he pulled his coat off and placed it around your shoulders once again. casually, the two of you trotted into town, slowing to a stop at the hotel. you ignored the stares the townsfolk gave you as you walked inside. being in a tattered gown and a jacket two big was definitely turning heads.

“one bath for the lady please” arthur tosses the owner a coin and nudges you towards the bath house. once in front of the door, he grabs your wrist and turns you towards him.

“you clean up, i’ll be right back. dont get no ideas of runnin’ off now, because i will find you.” his voice was low as he looked down at you, though you were starting to notice the facade he was putting up. the way he gently held your wrist told you all you needed to know, and unbeknownst to him, you weren’t really planning on leaving. the last place you wanted to go, was back home.

“wouldnt dream of it” your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you pulled your wrist from his grip and pushed your way into the bath house.

once you finished cleaning up, you pulled the towel around yourself and waited awkwardly, leaning from foot to foot as you waited for arthur to come back. the last thing you wanted was to put your old clothes on, so you stood by the fire and slowly dried off. finally, arthur pushed his way into the bath house holding a bag. he froze for a second as he took in your frame, only covered by the small towel. once you started walking towards him, he looked anywhere but at you as he handed you the bag. you say nothing, pulling the clothes out and dropping your towel as you began to pull them on. it was a simple brown dress with yellow detailing on the sleeves, collar, and bottom. you could tell arthur had picked it out, considering how it matched to his own clothes. there was also a new night gown in the bag, and you smiled to yourself.

“could you?” you turn away from the man who was doing most anything but look at you. when he shifted his gaze to you again, your back was turned to him, revealing an unlaced corset.

“yeah… yeah sure” arthur’s hands gingerly fiddled with the string, trying his best to will away the reddening of his cheeks as he observed your exposed back. it had been forever since he had been with another woman, and he cursed the feelings arising in him for you. you turned towards him afterwards, unable to help the smile of relief from being in clean clothes.

“you… you look nice” arthur looks down at your dress, then quickly he turns and pulls you out of the bathhouse with him before you can utter a ‘thank you’.

“you hungry?” arthur wasn’t really asking as the two of you headed towards the saloon, though you almost cried tears of joy at the thought of food. with a glance to the clock on the wall, you realized it was already 6PM. the scent of food that floated through the saloon nearly made you drool. eagerly, you sat at the bar and waited for your steak and potatoes that arthur ordered to arrive.

“2 whiskeys please” arthur tosses a few coins at the bartender who nods in compliance.

“oh i… i don’t drink” arthur looks at you straight faced, sliding the shot glass to you.

“drink” his eyes stayed trained on you all the way until the shots were taken, the burning liquid slides down your throat roughly. arthur let out a hardy laugh as you coughed, instantly digging into your food as it arrived to get rid of the taste.

“another” arthur tosses more coins, not batting an eye when you protest.

“i’m not drinking anymore, arthur!” you glare in his direction angrily. arthur pauses for a while, before leaning in close and bringing the shot to your lips.

“drink the damn whiskey girl.” his voice was low and gravelly as he parted your lips with his thumb, before tilting the shot glass forward. nervously, you swallowed it. this moment reminded you that you were still technically being kidnapped by him, and that he wasn’t messing around. arthur smiles a little, taking his own shot.

“good girl.” you silently turn back to your food, eating slowly and trying to keep track of the amount of shots he was taking. eventually it became too many to count. luckily, he didn’t make you take anymore, too preoccupied with himself.

“arthur that’s enough, let’s go” it had been an hour now, and arthur was shitfaced. the wooziness you had began to feel went away quickly as you scarfed down your food. “you’re drunk”

“am not” arthur smiled lazily, attempting to order another drink, but you snatch the coins from his hand and tell the bartender we’re done. arthur gets up angrily, towering over your frame that was still sat on the stool. he opens his mouth to speak, but instead bumps shoulders with another man who was walking past.

“you bastard! watch it” arthur shoves the man back, sending him tumbling into another man behind him. shit.

in a flash, it was an all out fight between, well, you couldn’t count how many men. you stumbled back, trying to look for arthur in the crowd of men. finally, you spotted him falling to the ground and out of sight again. you debated for a while. do you wanna keep saving this fool? you bounced from foot to foot anxiously, cursing under your breath before bracing yourself and shoving your way through the fighting men. you dodged punches left and right, some of them had to have hit you, but your adrenaline blocked out the pain. finally, you spotted arthur on the ground unconscious.

“son of a bitch!” your voice was drowned out by the shouting, but you finally managed to hook your arms under arthur’s and drag him from the fighting, all the way outside, to the hotel across the street.

“one room please” you spoke to the clerk between heavy breaths, fishing into arthur’s pockets and pulling out the last coins he had for the room. you realized how bad this looked, so you tried to explain yourself. “i- i know him, i swear.” the clerk just nods wearily, recognizing the two of you from earlier and handing you the key. with help of the clerk, you got arthur into the bed.

the next hour or so you spent wiping arthur’s face down with any cloth and water you could find. he looked bad, face bruised and bloody, clothes ripped, you couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful even in this state. finally, you turned to the mirror to tend to your own wounds, which happened to only be a few bruises on your arms and ribs. you sigh in frustration at the new rip on the side of your dress. you almost didn’t notice as arthur began to wake.

“oh… what… happened?” arthur’s voice was slurred as he sat up slowly, wincing in pain and blinking hard.

“you almost fucking died, that’s what!” your voice was nearly bubbling over with anger as you stormed from the mirror over to him. “and so did i, pulling you out from all those men. you’re lucky i haven’t ran off or killed ya! you’re a fool, arthur. a damned fool.” you were tired of holding back your anger, you were pushed to your limit with him. arthur was looking at the bruises on your arms and your waist through your ripped dress, then up at you with the most puppy dog eyed look you’d seen on him.

“m’ sorry.” arthur’s voice was quiet as he spoke and you watched as a drop of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. “really, you can go. after the hell i dragged you through…” arthur scoffs a laugh and looks to the side. when you don’t speak, or leave, he looks back at you with confusion.

“i’m not gonna leave.” you paused for a while, trying to decide if this was the right decision. “i wanna join the gang.” arthur’s eyes widen at your words, but he nods slowly in response.

“i knew you’d come around” he smiles what you assumed was a genuine one. he then begins to stand, nearly toppling over on you before you grab onto him, steadying him.

“jesus, take it easy!” you push him back down into a sitting position on the bed and lean closer to his face. “i hope you have some doctors in your gang. you’re going to need stitches” you wipe at the blood on corner of his mouth with your thumb and sigh as you observe his wounds once more. when you went to pull away, arthur grabbed your wrist gently. your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes nervously. you didn’t know what he was thinking. his face was unreadable. was he angry? you couldn’t tell. you opened your mouth to speak. you were going to utter your best form of apology for your assumed anger on his part, but arthur silenced you by leaning forwards and pressing his lips against yours. you let out a smothered gasp against his lips, taking a stumbling step back and tilting your head up as arthur stands again. a quiet moan of pain escapes his lips as he leans some of his weight against you. after a few moments of silence, that felt to you like minutes, you pull away, turning your head from him in uncertainty. you didn’t know what you wanted. if this was right. he was dangerous, you knew that, but something about him drew you in dangerously.

“i… i just” you tried to find the words, anything to say to him, but your feelings were like a big tangled ball of string and you couldn’t figure it out.

“i’m sorry.” arthur cuts you off, letting out a cough of pain as he backs off, limping his way to the other side of the room.

“let’s rest. we can talk about things tomorrow.” you watched in disbelief as he laid himself down on the floor by the entrance of the room, pulling his hat over his eyes and breathing deep. you could taste his blood on your lips. you took this time to change into your new night gown and toss your dress to the side. you assumed it would be trash, being unable to sew or afford a tailor.

upon crawling into bed, you fell asleep almost instantly. you missed the feeling of a bed after sleeping on the ground for days. you slept through the entire night, ignoring the throb of your bruises and the commotion of the streets of valentine. when you awoke in the morning, the first thing you noticed was that arthur was gone. the second thing you noticed, was your dress, folded neatly at the end of your bed. slowly, you crawled over and unfolded it, noticing the rip had been carefully sewn shut. with it, there was a piece of paper.

“i’m sorry for what i put you through. you deserve a choice. if you want to run with us, i won’t stop you. if you want to go back to your family, you have my word you won’t see me again.

-A”

upon flipping the note, there was the location of the gangs camp. you knew what you were going to do.

part 2

[leakyweep]

Professor! Nanami Kento x fem!reader: Whatever You Want

A/N: I’m a sucker for professor x student fics and I’m so mentally deranged for this man so this is the product of both of those things. Enjoy ^^ Requests are open, and appreciated!

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: Professor/Student relationship, afab reader, thigh riding, hickies, cunnilingus, fingering, not proofread, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+

Nanami was always the stoic type, never one to break the rules and always made sure of one thing; never bringing home a student. However, this one time...

He couldn’t believe his total lack of professionalism when he was around you. Drugs is what he’s compare you to; dangerous, addicting. The way your hips swayed, teasing him with every step you took where your ass was sashaying right there in his face. He didn’t miss the way your teeth would drag across your bottom lip as you listened to him teach, your gaze piercing his. You were one of the top in your graduating class and very well behaved to boot. 

Nanami couldn’t understand how the latter statement was true in this moment as he watched as you ground your wet cunt against his muscular thigh, soft moans of his name being sung like hymns from your lips. He reached to cover your mouth gently, making sure you could still breath through your nose.

“Shhh... you wouldn’t want Professor Gojo to hear how I make you feel, would you? Now, be a good girl and grind on my thigh. I wanna see how desperate you are for me.” His voice was a growl, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you upright as you swayed your hips back and forth on his bare thigh.

Your cunt was throbbing, begging for more stimulation. You bit your lip to beg Nanami to do something, anything for your desperate pussy. “Sir... Sir I need-” You were cut off by a moan as his fingers pinched your sensitive nipple, making a shock ring through your body. “Fuck!” 

Nanami smiled devilishly, committing to memory just how desperate your hips dragged against him and the sounds of your moans as his digits twisted and pinched at your perked nipples. His mouth attached to your collarbone, traveling slowly to replace his fingers at your chest. 

“You’ve gotta be a good girl for me, ‘kay? I’m gonna show you just how bad I’ve wanted you these past few weeks. I know a good girl like you can take it. Right?” His gaze was fiery hot, challenging you to stare back. 

You did, your eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your professor continued ravishing your nipples. Your eyes were clouded with lust as you said, “Yes..! Yes sir, I promise to be good...” 

He chuckled darkly, his strong hands flipping you onto your back on the plush bed. His lips kissed softly down to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, leaving love bites and dark purple marks there. His lips felt like heaven this close to your aching core, and you reached down to pull at his blonde locks. Your moans of encouragement filled his mind, letting his desires overtake him. he had wanted to taste you for so long, contemplating what you tasted like. 

It was almost perverted how quickly his lips attached to your clit, making you squirm and let out a groan. The stark shadows from the lamp on the other side of the room made it impossible to see Nanami’s face, but through the dark of his eyes you swore you could see a fire in his hazel eyes. 

“You’re heavenly,” he praised, his hands squeezing at the plushness of your hips. His velvety muscle dragged circles around your clit, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. 

“F-Fuck~” You whined, pulling at the fistfuls of his hair in your hands. This only made him speed up, the way his fingers prodded at your entrance made you shiver. You needed something inside, and you wouldn’t complain about it being his fingers. 

Nanami placed a hand on your abdomen to still you, and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped the back of your throat when you felt his middle and ring fingers invade your entrance, pushing against your pulsing walls. He pulled them out with a guttural moan, sticking his slick-covered digits in his mouth. His tongue savored the taste.

“You taste amazing,” He whispered, looking up into your lust-blown pupils as he inserted those same fingers again, dragging up the top of your core all the way to his knuckles. His fingertips prodded at your sweet spot, and the sweet nothings he was praising you with only coaxing you closer to your impending release. 

His hot breath was warming your thigh as his fingers pumped in and out of you, the way soft moans of his name left your mouth making precum bead at his swollen head. He couldn’t wait to feel your warmth. The way your walls were fluttering around his digits and your hips were grinding into his hand desperately told him it wouldn’t be long. 

“Kento~!” You cried out, biting your lip to keep from screaming and alerting the Professor just next door in his own dorm. Nanami nodded slowly, pumping his fingers at just the right pace through your orgasm, waiting for the last few waves of shakes go through your legs until he pulled his wet fingers out of your squelching pussy. 

Soft kisses trailed up your sweat-covered tummy and to your lips as Nanami gave you a moment to catch your breath. His eyes half-lidded, his cheeks pink, he grabbed your chin, staring into your pleasured gaze. 

With a soft whisper of your name, he flipped you so you were straddling his lean waist. “I want your warmth... Need it.” His voice was in a tone you had never heard from the man before, almost pleading to bury his cock deep into your wet core.

Your eyes dragged from his lips, down to his collarbones, to his chest, then back up to his eyes. Your eyes were filled with desire, your teeth dragging across your bottom lip. 

“Then, have it. Whatever you want, Professor Nanami.”

[xn4vyl1c1ousx]

How did we get here? when i used to know you so well..

cw: angst?, kinda occ, word vomit, implied past relationship with bakugo, pro hero!bakugo x villain!reader (kinda), ends with a cliffhanger

wc: 789..

♫ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| …

notes: okay this is probably gonna be booty cause i kinda just put stuff down, i hope it isn’t too bad if anything needs fixing don’t be afraid to tell me, i might not make a pt 2 to this cause idk what else to write after it, uhhhh that’s it :p

now playing: Decode - Paramore

back to navi..

“Get out of my way!” the sound of explosions was heard throughout the city. buildings were falling everywhere and dust clouds replaced them.

cars, busses, and street signs suddenly ripped up from the ground and swirled around in the air.

“what the hell is going on?!” Bakugo spoke out loud, looking around for anyone as he ran towards the center of chaos.

all the others were around trying to help people out of the fallen building. Midoriya, Kirishima, Mina, Tsu, Tokoyami, and Bakugo were all running to the source. rough screams were heard as a car came crashing down onto the road, right in front of bakugo. it all happened so quickly, but fortunately, he was quicker.

with an explosion he launched himself over the car and continued running. the sound of his boots was barely audible over the sound of rushing air and car alarms blaring through the wind.

Midoriya hopped around from building to building , getting ever so close to the source of chaos. Just as he was within reach of whoever was the cause of this, he was swung back by a forceful wind. The force of the wind ended up sending everyone flying back, including Bakugo, who was sent straight towards Kirishima.

Kirishima couldn’t move fast enough causing Bakugo to crash into him, sending them tumbling. “PAY ATTENTION, HAIR-FOR-BRAINS!”

“i’m sorry bakubro! you came outta nowhere!”

the wind suddenly picked up in speed, sending everyone flying into the air agian. “What the hell?!” bakugo’s voice fell upon deaf ears as everyone became separated. the wind around them almost cutting their exposed skin from the sheer speed and force.

As bakugo looked around, he spotted you in the center. your eyes met his, a sudden shiver ran down both of your spines as a realization came to both of you.

How did you end up in this situation? someone who oh so desperately wanted to be a hero, becoming a villain. a puppet for the LOV. Your facial expression said it all. It was him who caused your sudden change.

Suddenly, bakugo was thrown away from the chaos. his body flew through the air, making him set off blasts to try and control where he was going. yet it was all in vain. his body slammed against a building, sending all the air in his lungs out.

“Wait! guys it’s them! it’s y/n!” he yelled out as he finally regained his breath.

no one could hear him. despite his harsh and loud voice, the wind muted him.

he watched as Midoriya somehow made it to you and collided against you. a sharp gasp ripped from your chest as the pain of his punch radiated from the place of impact.

no one could see you, they only saw the monster that they thought you were. he watch as mina came next, sending her acid toward the quirk enhancers on your wrists, causing them to disintegrate. then went kirishima, grabbing you and holding you down, making it impossible to move.

tokoyami grabbed Tsu as she fell from the sky, holding her up so she wouldn’t hit the ground. they safely landed in front of you and the other 3 hero’s.

bakugo watched from afar, his body unable to move. was it from the injuries? or was it that he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop what was going to happen to you.

“let me go!” you yelled as you thrashed around in kirishima a grip, his quirk activing, causing it to be even more difficult to move.

“we got you now, there’s no escaping.” Midoriya spoke, his voice full of victory.

you looked up at them. the world froze. no one moved, too stunned to speak. it was you. it was really you.

it had been years since your disappearance. and now here you were, conspiring against them, attacking them, and being in the most dangerous villain group of all japan. it was still you.

“y/n?! but why? you? why.. why would you turn back on us?” mina’s voice shook, full of hurt, betrayal, and anger.

you stayed silent, kirishima grip on you faltered enough to let you send a strong wind, knocking them all back.

“it’s his fault. if you really want to know why i’ve chosen to backstab you all, ask him. ask bakugo.”

and with that, you sent yourself into the air with a flick of your wrist, right into a purple portal in the sky.

you disappeared yet again, this time right in front of them.

The five hero’s turned to look at bakugo, who still kneeled on the ground. frozen and with a look of pain and guilt on his face.

just what did he do to let this happen?

General Taglist for all my works (comment or send an ask to be added)

@sunolls

[sugarbbgrl]

Let’s Go For A Ride

summary: Soap has been wanting you to ride his face for quite some time now.

CW: MDNI!!!!! face riding, fingering, light praise (?), soap being really fucking sexy

word count: 1.1k

(sorry if there’s spelling/grammar mistakes, i hate type on phones LMAO)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

The thought of it was extremely sexy to you and had you already wet just thinking about the way Johnny would grip your thighs and work his tongue over your clit while staring up at you with his beautiful blues.

But to say you weren’t nervous was an understatement. It’s not something you had thought to do before so you’d never experienced anything like that. Of course, he’s eaten your pussy countless times, but this was very new to you.

But here you are: dressed in a light pink, sheer Babydoll lingerie set and a couple cheap salted carmel-scented candles next to you. You wait for your beloved Dove boy to walk through the door.

“Mo ghràdh..” Soap gasps as he enters your shared bedroom, his eyes fully trained on you. “What’s all this ‘bout?” He begins to take off his heavy work boots and waits for your answer.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night and I think I’m ready to ride your face.” You face heats up lightly as you admit, silently thanking yourself for keeping the lighting minimum. Soap’s confused face quickly gets replaced by a toothy grin as he sets his boots to the side.

“Well then, no better time like now, ya?” He places himself next to you and places a hand on your cheek. Your lips connect and the kiss turns quickly sloppy; your tongues battle each other and teeth clash lightly. He pulls you onto his lap and you could already feel him

“Dove, we haven’t even started yet..” You mumble against his lips, a lightly giggle leaving your lips.

“Just the thought of your straddling my head is making me go crazy.” Johnny disconnects from you and shifts to lay down. “I need you now, my sweet.”

He’s being go gentle, knowing you were nervous at the thought and now that the time has come, your nerves are wilder than ever. His thumbs rub tender circle on your thighs, keeping eye contact with you. You take a deep breath and make your way up to his face. You could see his chest begin to rise and fall quicker at the anticipation of finally getting to feel your thighs surround his head and your drenched heat hover over his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, already so wet for me, darling.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your inner thighs, nipping in spots along the way. You could feel his breath stop at your clit, the feeling causing a shudder to creep up your spine.

“No hovering, I need your fully against my mouth, you understand?” His tone turned stern, but only a little. He needed you to understand how badly he needs to feel your pussy and legs against his face.

“Yes, sir.” You breathe out as you push yourself onto his mouth, finally feeling his lips latch themselves onto your sensitive bud. An almost primal sound released from Soap’s throat, finally getting to taste your sweet nectar in the way he so desperately needs.

He started sweetly, gently lapping at your throbbing clit and soaked hole. You couldn’t help but buck your hips at the pleasure, your eyes closing and head lolling to the side. He took his time, savoring the taste until he finally hooked his arms around your thighs so you had no choice but to sit there and take it.

Mewling and moaning at the feeling of his beard softly scratching your inner thighs combined with his tongue, you could help but arch your back and push yourself further onto his mouth. He picked up the pace from kitten picking and suckling to full blown thrusting his tongue in and out of you.

“So sweet..” His muffled voice vibrated against your pussy. Your moans grew and your hands flew to his hair, digging your fingers in and tightly gripping the short mohawk on his scalp. He removed one of his hand from your thighs and pushed two fingers into your wetness, going knuckles deep and moving them around inside of you.

You once again bucked again this mouth unable to control your movements at this point, your climax slowly creeping up on you.

“Look at me, Dove.” Your head dropped and your eyes slowly opened to meet his sea colored irises. His pupils were blown out, completely doused in the pleasure of watching you unravel above him. His eyes held a gentleness but his actions were one of a madman. Just the sight of him looking up at your as he buried his fingers deeper into you and his tongue working against you nub was enough to send your mind spinning.

The bucking of your hips became more and more, now fully grinding against his hot mouth. His name left you lips over and over again, his grip moving from you thigh to one of your tits. He pinched and rubbed at your nipple to help the sensation flood your senses even more. He added a third finger and thrusted them after and deeper into you.

Your sopping walls began to clench around them, full blown euphoria ripping through you as you began to ride his fast harder.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You whimpered, feeling like an animal in heat. Your whimpers turned into loud moans as your peak finally hit you all at once. A string of curses flooded your lips, your thighs clenched hard around the sides of his head and the top half of your body went limp. You came hard onto his mouth, your delectable juices coating his tongue. It was enough for him to moan with and against you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the taste.

Your whines as he continued to laps at you, much slower and lighter now that your clit becomes more sensitive. You finally climb off of his face, his beard and mustache glittering with your juices.

“Christ, sweetheart, I don’t think you understand how sexy that entire scene was above me.” He breathed out. “Watching your hips move against my face was a sensation I could never get enough of.”

You blushed, not having processed the entire situation that had just unfolded before you. Your hand moved down to the tent in his jeans, slowly rubbing his hard cock restrained by his zipper. Soap began to moan one more, bucking his hips up into your hand, looking for any sign of relief.

“I think it’s my turn to take care of you, Dove.”

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Convenience Store Vampire, part 6

Part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Crap. If the exorcists glanced that way- I did not want to think of what would happen. I had to distract them, keep their eyes on me and the spirit.

“Look, if you want to interrogate me,” I said, butting into their conversation with a newfound urgency.  “You have to talk to my supervisor. We need someone to replace me. Gotta keep the shop running, you know. Smiley mart, service with a smile, selling all day all year!” The deadpan with which I delivered the line got a chuckle from the spirit, but no reaction from the exorcists.

Carter scrunched her nose up. “Alright, call her over. Boxely, deal with the wight.” 

The spirit gave me another aggressive shrug of the head, as though to warn me of something, but I could not turn around. Not now, when all eyes were on me. So instead I made an awkward little shuffle in the opposite direction, hoping to drag the exorcists' eyes away from the door, as I dialed my supervisor.

Mrs Vaceni, my supervisor, was a terrifying woman. Her voice boomed like thunder, and though she was half my size, she could easily make a giant (or a pair of exorcists) quake in their boots. “The hells is the issue, David? You're disrupting my beauty sleep,” she growled. “This better be good.”

“Oh, it is,” I assured her. “There's a pair of exorcists outside the shop. They're accusing us of having something to do with a traffic accident that one of their people got caught in, and they want to bring me in for interrogation.”

Mrs Vaceni paused. “Alright,” she said, and I heard the rustle of a jacket being pulled on. “I'll be there in five.”

I looked up at the exorcists. They both watched me intensely, the spirit still clasped in Boxely's hand. If I hung up now, they'd stop staring at me and start poking around, and then they'd find my leaking cupboard. I had to keep them focussed on me until Mrs Vaceni came. 

“No, please don't say that,” I began, praying Mrs Vaceni would realise something was off. “Look, keep walking all you want, but you have to stop by the shop. The exorcists are really on my back over this. Yeah?”

“What in good Ina's name are you talking about, Dave? I just told you I'll be there soon,” she replied, puzzlement creeping into her voice. “What's going on?”

“Mrs Vaceni, you need to trust me on this,” I began. “This is important, and-”

Boxely pulled my phone away from me. “Hello, Mrs Vaceni? Yes, your employee is wanted for questioning regarding a potential homicide. You will reach soon? Good.” He dropped the phone back into my hand.

Crap. Well, so much for getting them to stare at me talking for 5 minutes. I met the spirit's gaze again and gave him a desperate smile. He shrugged.

Boxely shook him roughly. “What do you two think you're doing, monsters? Don't try to talk to each other behind our backs. I'll be watching you while my partner does a once-over of this shop. Now, are either of you going to admit to killing the exorcist?”

I stared at him blankly. “No?”

Boxely did not find it amusing. “Tch. Carter, start checking this place for magical residue,” he announced.

“Already did,” she replied. “The fucking wight's stinking the place up. I can't tell where his aura ends and the surrounding magic starts.”

I felt a flicker of hope in my chest. Hash's plan worked. They still had no idea that the dead exorcist had spawned a ghost. 

“Guess we'll have to do a physical check, then,” Boxely replied. He tossed the spirit onto the floor. “Don't either of you think of trying anything funny.”

“Are all of your people so incapable of producing grammatically correct sentences? Trade-tongue is my twelfth language, and I appear to be more proficient in it than you,” the spirit jeered as he stood back up, brushing off the nonexistent dust on his clothes. He flicked his wrist at me, as though trying to signal something.

Was his plan seriously to just insult the exorcists? Though I had nothing better than that, it still seemed like a terrible idea. I shook my head slightly at him.

“Chise va,” the spirit whispered in response, soft enough that only my hyper-precise hearing could catch it. My Cescereli was terrible, but I understood his meaning: Trust/follow me.

I sighed and took a deep breath, suddenly regretting ever choosing to work at a convenience store. “Don't ask so much of them,” I drawled, anxious enough that my long-dead heart ought to have been pounding. “They're just puny humans, after all.”

Everyone in the room froze, even the spirit. Then, with terrible slowness, Boxely said, “The hells did you just say, fang-fucker?” His fingers rested on his stunner, itching to make me regret my words.

Not that I needed much encouragement. I already regretted everything that came out of my mouth, from the moment I had been turned until there and then. “I said: You're just a stupid little mortal,” I repeated loudly.

It was deathly quiet. I heard the slow pulses of the exorcists' heartbeats speeding up. “Oh, you are so dead,” Carter snarled, pulling out her gun and pointing it at me.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[messrmoonyy]

Tess catching reader touching herself? 🤭

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

Wc- 1k | 18+

Navigation | Tess Masterlist

Your fingers moved over the slick folds of your cunt with ease, almost struggling to find friction against your clit. Your eyes were clenched shut, focusing completely on the images flashing on the backs of your eyelids.

Her.

Tess.

You’d woken up feeling like an animal in heat, only to find to your utter dismay that Tess wasn’t home. You’d had a shitty night time shift in the loading bays, not returning home until the early hours and had slept the majority of the day. So it made sense she wasn’t there. She’d still be doing whatever assigned work she had pencilled in for the day.

But god did you wish she was home.

You needed her like you needed air, practically feral with the idea of her fingers replacing your own.

But she wasn’t there. So you had to make do. Had to settle for the memories of every other time she had her way with you. You knew what it felt like to be touched by her so well that you could almost feel the ghosts of her fingertips on your thighs if you thought about it hard enough.

You knew what every part of her body felt like against yours. How her lips felt against your neck, her fingers in your hair and on your face. Curled up inside of you or pinning your wrists above your head. You knew how her own soft skin felt sliding against your own.

You couldn’t even pick a particular memory to replay. Too many to choose. Too many bliss filled moments in time to sieve through and pull out a favourite. Nights and days spent coming apart on her fingers, on her strap, or the times where she refused to touch you at all and made you get off by grinding against her thigh. And there had been that one time with her boot…

You’d do anything for any of those moments to manifest themselves into reality right now.

But unfortunately they couldn’t. And all you had were the memories. And your fingers. Fingers that were moving quickly, desperate to find some relief from the almost suffocating tension in your body.

Your wrist was starting to ache but you didn’t care, you had one end goal. And that was coming with your girlfriends face on your mind. You were focussed. Determined. Desperate.

“ well. Was gonna ask you if you had fun whilst I was gone but… I can see you did “ you startled as Tess’ voice filtered into your ears, turning your head so quickly your neck cricked with the movement. She shed her jacket as she walked towards you, smirking slightly as she looked you up and down

“ Tess “ you couldn’t quite work out if the sigh of her name was out of embarrassment or pure and utter relief.

“ you know I could’ve been anybody right? I came in, locked the door and got half way over here and it wasn’t until I spoke that you knew I was here “ she said as she stood beside the bed, leaning over you and nudging her fingers under your chin “ so caught up in touching that pretty pussy weren’t you hmm? “ you practically melted under her gaze, muscles and bones turning to mush and pooling into the mattress beneath you “ well don’t stop on my account, I know that pretty face you were making. So close weren’t you? “

Words failed you for a few moments, too caught up in admiring her face above yours and the sultry tone of her voice. There was something about her voice. Maybe it was the low tones, the way she always spoke so slowly and precise. How every word felt almost… dangerous. You loved it.

“ yes “ you managed to whisper, mesmerised by her utterly.

“ then keep going “ you didn’t need telling twice, fingers returning to their previous motions as she moved to sit beside you on the bed. Watching, intently as your hand moved underneath the fabric of your sweats. Which she didn’t seem too pleased about “ such a shame to hide away” she mused and patted your hip lightly as she grabbed at the waistband, pulling your sweatpants and underwear off with a smile “ there we go. I know you’re not shy “

Her fingers grazed over the newly exposed skin of your legs as she went, her eyes hungry as she admired you in front of her. She moved up beside you, resting her elbow in the pillows beside your head to prop her up, ensure she still had a good view. Maybe you should’ve been embarrassed having her watch you like that. But you weren’t.

In fact quite the opposite. You let your legs fall apart, let her see the mess you had created just by thinking about her.

“ tell me what got you like this? “ she said softly, her spare hand ghosting lazily over the exposed skin of your stomach “ exactly. I want every detail “

So you told her. Every single thing you had been recounting. How it felt to have her fingers inside of you, her tongue on your clit. How it felt to have her teeth grazing over the skin of your neck or the sensitive buds of your nipples. You told her it all, watching her face carefully as you did so and trying your hardest to ignore the burning need to come.

Her eyes practically sparkled as she watched you, even more so when you couldn’t hold on any longer and let your orgasm flood your vein. Not even needing to exaggerate your movements or sounds because you knew she’d see right through that. You knew she knew you looked and sounded like. She’d see it often enough.

You went slack as the afterglow washed over you, the blissful warmth of your orgasm still thrumming in your blood, bones made of jelly. Tess made some small sound of approval, her fingers suddenly tracing over your hot skin lightly and leaving goosebumps in their wake, tracing down your arm to join your fingers that were still wet and sticky against your cunt.

“ now “ she said with another smirk “ let’s see how many more times you can make that pretty face for me “

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Rhian, drop your morning/night routine!

Rhian: In the morning, I don't "wake up" like most do. Instead, I simply get out of bed since I'm usually up all night attempting to fall asleep. Repose rarely overtakes me, and my mind's always reeling. I may have to commission a sleeping draught from a witch one day.

At this stage of the morning, Rafal is usually still out cold, and it doesn't matter how loud I am, so I listen to the morning Kingdom Council spellcast reports from a mirror I've ensorcelled at full volume and review the Putsi market trends as I start on my routine.

The Gillikin Gazette's updates about its ongoing cathedral construction are my favorites though—its flying buttresses rival Camelot's dated, heavier Romanesque designs. I only manage to catch those reports on Saturdays though since I have to be out of the tower and on my way at an early hour most days. Oh, and I tend to cast a spell, so my bed makes itself while I busy myself with more important tasks.

Firstly, I need my ermine slippers and silk dressing gown. I shower and usually start with a facial, rosewater, or whichever magical cure-all I'm currently using to remove my under-eye shadows with.

Though, Rafal's been a bother about the cucumbers I go through. He thinks I'll drain the Woods' supply and that he won't have any left for his sandwiches. Mind you, that isn't true in the least.

I use charcoal imported from Akgul to remove impurities of the skin, and that's been rather effective as of late. I also ice my pores, page through Maxine's progress reports, and keep tabs on the lackadaisical performers. Tracking's very important at a School like ours, you know.

On some occasions, I do my own makeup, but really, it seems to me that only the Evergirls care if they notice at all. These days, I've been fond of whipped beetroot tinctures and orchid cologne. Then, I arrange my hair, dress suitably for the day's activities in whichever clothes I pressed the night before, and polish my boots. I polish Rafal's too. He doesn't notice or care—thinks we're immune to disease and scrutiny—but he's missing the point. It's about image, of course. And I worry that he'll bring bird mites from his Stymphs indoors, and that would not only be unseemly for a School Master, but a disaster of inordinate proportions, even if our health isn't at risk. Think of the parent complaints we'd receive, if we had an infestation. The picket-lines would never end!

When I head out, Rafal's almost always still asleep, so I bring us back breakfast, and wake him then.

Well, I say "wake him," but rousing him isn't as simple as I've likely led you to believe. By now, it's turned into an awfully elaborate burlesque. I switch mirror channels to the Jaunt Jolie Music Hall's Cricket and Brass orchestra production of the day. If that fails, I bang a ladle on our breakfast's silver cloche over him. And if all else fails, I shout "FIRE," "INVASION," or even "PIRATES" if I'm desperate and running late, and that does the trick. I still haven't figured out if he's been deluding me though, or if it's his dreams that leave him with those horrid little grins.

Yet, this particular song-and-dance of sorts has been more of a recent development. His clarion-belled alarm clock from Geppetto's broke last month, and he hasn't had the time to replace it. The flight's a day's trip, and this new class of Nevers cannot be left alone for more than a day because he's sure there'll be either an outbreak of some pox or of some general pandemonium since he doesn't think I'm capable of maintaining order. I'm more than capable in truth.

We eat then, he in his pajama shorts and shirt and black stockings with the runs I chastise him about throwing out everyday, and me in my typical smart attire.

At the end, I wash up, sit, and wait for him to set the dishes to scrubbing themselves, comb his hair, and dress. After that, we split off to our respective sides for the day, and I see him again at dusk.

"Bye." or "Morning, brother." is as talkative as he gets at this time of day before he vanishes into the Tunnel of Trees or crosses the Halfway Bridge into the smog, unless he has a storybook victory to congratulate himself over or another point to bolster his side of an argument with—arguments I naively believed we'd already put to bed the night before.

After a full day of overseeing classes, Rafal legs it over the window sill when he returns and showers immediately when he gets back. Then, he grades papers and exams. On days when he's exhausted by puppeteering mock battle raids or Storian knows what he subjects those poor children to, he passes out in bed fully-clothed without showering, and showers in the morning.

All the while, I perform my nightly skin- and hair care routines, snuff out the candles, and get in bed with an eye mask, in my attempt to get a good night's sleep, often sooner than he goes to bed because he reads news updates and whatever musty tome he's tearing through late into the night.

Sometimes, I wake in the middle of a night terror and realize he's still up marking or reading or scheming, so I confiscate the candles at that point and force him to sleep. Rarely does he listen, and I've stopped bothering most of the time as he reads by the light of his fingerglow instead, contrary to all sound advice. He doesn't view sleep as necessary seeing as the Storian sustains us, but he has no sleep troubles, so I suppose that's an easy conclusion to form if you're him. The latest remedy I've resorted to is tucking lavender into my pillowcase, but I've had not a drop of luck.

[fanfic-is-a-godsend]

Hello my loves! I'm so down bad for Leon, and also I feel like he would be into overstimulation. Hope this satiates some of your guys' thirst for a little while <3

Scenario: Leon has been on a mission for a while, and you decided to tease him relentlessly for the entire time. He comes home after all that time and decides to eat you out like it's his last meal.

Leon Kennedy x FTM!reader (reader is referred to as Leon's boyfriend)

Content: porn without plot; smut; crying (it's from being overstimulated but I thought I should add it); Cunnilingus; established relationship; usage of the pet names baby/babe, sweetheart, and love; use of good boy; cockwarming mention; honestly Leon is very soft as he overstimulates you

MDNI PLEASE READ SOMETHING ELSE

The day had been rough, but in all honesty there wasn't anything that should have made it that bad. Sure there were a few annoyances: a flight delayed by an hour, paperwork that lasted for longer than an attention span could handle, a favorite fast-food place being closed for major repairs. None of it was that bad; at least not compared to what Leon dealt with on a practically monthly basis.

But there was something else. Something that gnawed at the back of the back of his mind and seeped, sluggish and heavy, into his chest.

Longing.

All day Leon was antsy, on pins and needles, wishing he could get home faster. If he could only just finish that last bit of paperwork faster, if only that flight hadn't been delayed, if only he hadn't had to go find a different place to grab a bite, then he would have gotten to see his boyfriend faster. He would've gotten to feel him faster, to taste him faster.

It had been so long, four months to be exact, since you had seen each other. Of course he stayed in contact when he could, but you had been such a tease recently. Pictures that were provocative but not quite nudes became the norm, and late night calls where you were already two fingers deep inside yourself when Leon answered had gotten more and more frequent.

It all left Leon feeling incredibly frustrated, wanting his boyfriend so badly yet not being able to have him. That frustration lingered beneath his skin for the entire time you two were apart. The last place he needed to be was in some country halfway across the world for a mission. He wanted, no needed, to be between his boyfriend's legs.

By the time he finally got back to your shared apartment, he was bursting at the seams with frustration and desire. The entire day he had been wishing he had your warm skin on his, fantasizing about making you cry out his name. Leon needed you, and he needed you now.

Hard boots hit the floor, and a heavy leather jacket was thrown haphazardly at the coat rack. The smell of something savory cooking on the stove filled the air, mixing with Leon's already strong hunger for things he knew he'd have.

You were on the couch reading something Leon didn't catch the title to when you turned around to see who had just walked into your apartment. Curiosity was quickly replaced with joy as you caught sight of Leon. A bright smile cracked across your face, and you moved to stand up. Leon was already right there, pushing you back down onto the couch.

You opened your mouth to ask what Leon was doing, but were promptly cut off.

"You can't do the shit that you've done for months and not expect to be pinned to something when I get back, babe." Was the answer to your unasked question. Leon's words came out in a huff. The irritation that had built up all day was evident in the slight gruff quality of his voice.

You, in turn, snorted and rolled your eyes, threading your fingers through Leon's hair and pulling him closer. "Well hello to you too, my love." You snickered before leaning up to capture Leon's cracked lips in a kiss.

You should have never agreed to indulge in Leon's desperation. That thought , though, was barely a musing when Leon circled his tongue around your puffy red clit over and over and over again. Your brain was foggy, so deprived of reprieve that you could barely think anymore. As your body burned, nerves screaming out for Leon to stop, all you could do was weakly, pathetically attempt to push Leon's face away. Did you really want him to stop?

"Ngh... Leon," you muttered out breathlessly, voice raw from screaming out in pleasure for the last hour. Tears streamed down your cheeks from how overwhelmed your senses were. "Can't- can't go anymore. Don't have another one in me."

And for a moment, Leon stopped. His mouth hovered mere inches away from your sopping, abused cunt and looked into your eyes with a more relaxed expression than he had all night. Strong arms looped around your thighs, holding them open yet close enough that Leon could feel their warmth on his face

The sight of Leon's relaxed yet hungry face, glistening with the tangy slick of your arousal caused a wave of pride to wash over you. God damn it Leon really knew how to make you do what he wanted without even trying.

"Awh, but sweetheart," Leon began, his voice a slow drawl of honey and syrup. "You know you do. Can I please just get one more? After that you can sleep or cockwarm all you want."

A sigh escaped your lips and you laid back against the couch, the springs creaking under your shifting weight. You gave a whiny noise that was something akin to a "fine..."

Leon frowned at that, reaching out and gently grabbing your jaw. His hand, worn and calloused, held you as though you would break. The touch was a stark contrast to the way he was completely devouring your poor pussy just a few moments ago.

"Is it 'fine' or is it 'yes', love?" Leon asked, soft and gentle in a way that made your stomach fill with butterflies.

And you crumbled like burnt gingerbread cookies. Despite your overwhelmed senses, you really did love it all. Beneath the overwhelm that scratched just under your skin was glee, waterfalls of joy and pleasure that you just couldn't get enough of. You would honestly probably beg for Leon to continue if you weren't feeling so prideful that night.

"Y-yes, you can." You looked away like this was the first time you two had done anything together. Your face burned a pretty red color, only made prettier by the way your face glistened with tears.

"Thank you, baby." Leon hummed, the noise sounding similar to a purr. "You're such a good boy for me." Leon gave you a light pat on the cheek and a kiss on the thigh before leaning back down.

He pressed his tongue between your folds, savoring the taste like he hadn't gotten the chance to before. Once satiated by just holding his tongue there for a few seconds, he unhooked an arm from one of your thighs and slid two fingers into your warm pussy.

The action caused your hips to jerk up and a whimper to escape your throat. The cold of Leon's fingers was a sharp contrast to the searing warmth of your pretty cunt. You squirmed and writhed, overwhelmed whines spilling from your lips as Leon relentlessly thrust his fingers in and out of you.

"Good boy. You're taking it so well." Leon cooed before dipping his head down. His lips captured your clit as he lapped at it like a starved man.

The only real way you could respond to the assault was to arch your back and cover your face as you sobbed in pleasure. Your legs trembled, trying desperately to close around Leon's head. Yet Leon held them open.

You were practically melting. Or were you exploding? You couldn't tell the difference. Maybe there wasn't a difference at that moment.

Your body dug into the rough fabric of the couch. It creaked and groaned under the movement, threatening to break as it did every time anything remotely heavy was placed upon it. Maybe it was just as worn out as you were, taking in some of the exhaustion for you.

God this was just what Leon needed: his face buried between his boyfriend's thighs as he made him come undone over and over and over again. Everything about this just made everything else worth it. He couldn't get enough of the way you sounded, so overwhelmed with pleasure you were whining like a dog. He couldn't get enough of the way you looked, face contorted in ecstasy, tears streaming down your face, taking everything just so well.

"So perfect." Leon mumbled against your clit. The vibrations of his voice made you cry out in surprise. "You're so fucking perfect..."

Then you were coming again, your cunt clenching hard around Leon's fingers. Your palms dug into your eyes as you screamed for the uptheenth time that night. Of course, Leon led you through it, cooing soft praises as he gradually slowed his fingers.

You relaxed, the couch giving out it's last creak for the night as you did so. Your hands slid from your face up to your hair then moved to Leon's shoulders. The glow of the shitty, dim lightbulbs in the apartment made the sweat on your skin glint with the rise and fall of your chest.

You were so close to just passing out, fatigue weighing down on your body like a weighted blanket. To your surprise, Leon pulled away, giving your thighs a little kiss as he did so.

"Let's get you cleaned up, sweetheart." Leon reached out and gently grabbed your hand, pulling you off the couch. Leon was a man of his word, always.

Your body felt like jelly, shaky and unsteady. Leon gladly shouldered the full weight of his boyfriend leaning on you as he led you to the bathroom, his feet shuffling on the hard, carpeted floor.

"Once we do that we can go to bed, okay?"

You just mumbled something close to an "okay" In response. You tried to nuzzle your face into Leon's neck, but the angle made it difficult. Instead, you gently rested your head on Leon's shoulder as Leon nudged the bathroom door open. Once inside, you sat down on the floor as Leon started a bath, the cold tile floor uncomfortable against your bare skin.

"Hm, thank you for letting me do this, baby."

"Of course, my love. We both needed it."

Edited for formatting reasons. Idk what the fuck I was doing.

[bookshelf-dust]

So I have this one thing on my mind for so long now and finally decided to request it (only if you want to of course)

Reader is like a complete alt girl, metalhead, nerdy etc and part of the hellfire club. She and Eddie (or Gareth, I can't decide I love them both) are like super close, but more like teasing each other all the time, can't let go of each other and too afraid to confess their feelings for each other. She's there everytime they play at the hideout and this time, she's super late and Eddie/Gareth wants to pick her up. Her brother opens the door and the boy goes to her room only to find her maniacally cleaning her room and desperately looking for a great outfit, dancing and singing to Abba with her whole soul, she doesn't even notice the guy standing in the doorframe. But then, to her absolute surprise, he chimes in.

Have a nice day!

Sending lots of hugs. 💓

honey honey

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,563

warnings: swearing, fluff

a/n: hi sweetheart! thank you so much for your request. i decided to go with eddie—and i really hope that’s okay—because i haven’t written for him very much lately. this is a really sweet idea!! and i’m really sorry that it took me a while to get this done. school’s been kicking my ass lately. thanks for sticking around. i hope you enjoy this!! <333

————

“So when are you gonna say something to her?” Mike’s voice comes from over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie turns his head, hair whipping around with the motion. “What are you talking about, man?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “I mean the fact that you’re practically on the floor every-time you see her. It’s gross.”

Eddie stops where he’s been walking in the hallway, boots screeching on the floor. “Michael, if you don’t shut the hell up, I’m replacing you.”

“What?” Mike exclaims, “You don’t even have anyone to replace me with.”

Eddie sighs, and then gives the boy his most condescending smile. “Are you underestimating me, Wheeler?”

Mike looks at Dustin, and then at Lucas, both of whom coincidentally look around the hall like the posters tacked up on the walls are the most interesting things in the world.

“N-no. I-I’m not, I just—”

Eddie nods, never taking his eyes off of the younger boy.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

————

The parking lot is full of muddy puddles and leaves from the stormy weather over the weekend. Eddie spots you where you stand shoving things into your car.

The boy creeps up behind you before he goes in for the kill, lunging for your waist.

You feel arms around your middle and know who it is before you see him. Eddie squeezes you right and lifts you just enough so that your feet leave the ground.

When he sets you down, you turn on him. You backhand him in the stomach. He groans and hunches over exaggeratedly. “I should kick your ass for that, Munson. Tell Wayne you’re harassing me.”

Eddie gasps. “Tell Wayne? What kind of tattle-tailing is this?”

You smile at him and Eddie wills away the blush that threatens to spread across his cheeks. He can tell it doesn’t work with the way your eyes sparkle.

“At least he’s nice to me,” you say, shutting your car door behind you, keys in hand. He’s postponing your going home, but you can’t exactly bring yourself to mind.

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” Eddie remarks.

“Well you haven’t kicked me out of your cult yet, so that’s something.”

This time it’s Eddie who smiles at you. It’s a gorgeous grin, one that makes his entire face light up.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you after the show last night,” you start. “I forgot that I had that essay due, and I needed to—”

“And you needed to finish it.” Eddie’s laughs. “Yeah, Gareth told me. It’s okay.”

He reaches for the hem of your sweater, playing with the crocheted fabric. His pinky grazes the top of your thigh and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

His fingers find the pocket towards the bottom of your cardigan, and the button pinned there.

“This the one Robin found for you?” He asks, patting the smooth finish so that the safety pin on the back clinks. The button has Cliff Burton on it.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I do,” he assures you. “Very metal.”

You grin. “Wish I had a James one, too, though.” Eddie snorts.

That’s supposed to be a hint, you think. They have the same damn haircut, after all. You’re a simple woman.

You’re not sure if he takes it, so you move on.

“Well, I wanted to tell you how good you did. And I know I say that every show, but last night especially. All of you seemed to be having a lot of fun up there.”

Eddie lets go of your sweater, taking your hand in his instead, palm facing upwards. He starts to trace the lines and creases in your skin with the tip of his finger.

“It was fun, yeah.” Eddie avoids your eyes. You find that he seems to get shy when he’s being complimented or talking about things he’s proud of. “It was all songs we’ve practiced forever and don’t really have to think about when we play, you know? It felt natural.”

He presses his thumb into the center of your palm and you both look up at the same time.

“‘M proud of you, Eddie.”

The boy snorts. He thinks about how he wants to kiss you. He wonders if you feel the same.

Eddie settles for pressing his forehead to yours for a few seconds. He lets your hand go.

“See you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say.

Eddie kisses you on the cheek. His lips are warm and their presence lingers on your skin long after he’s turned to walk to his van, a mess of frizzy curls and jingling chains.

————

Eddie sounds a little worried when you pick up the phone. “Sweetheart? You okay over there?”

“Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. What’s wrong?” You’re oblivious it seems.

“You were supposed to come over? So I could take you with me to the show?”

It’s been a week. You don’t have any essays this time around, so you’ll be good to see him after too. That is if you even make it at all.

Eddie hears shuffling on your side Your eyes widen as you look at the clock on your nightstand.

“Shit!” You shout, making Eddie wince at the pitch of your voice.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie!” You continue. “I lost track of time, digging through my closet and I—oh my god, let me find my keys and I’ll be on the way—”

“Y/N.”

You stop rambling. Eddie’s using that tone that makes you stop in your tracks, no matter what it is that you’re doing. It’s gentle, calm even, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. It makes you feel warm all over.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll just come pick you up,” he says. “It’s not a big deal. You finish whatever it is that you’re up to, okay?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Eddie laughs and you can picture the way he’s probably tossed his head back, the way his nose is scrunching.

————

Your younger brother opens the door after it’s been insistently knocked upon. He sweeps his arm out, letting your friend inside.

“Why, thank you, my liege,” Eddie says, already making his way to where he knows your room is.

Your brother has no idea what that means.

You, on the other hand, have your music up so loud that you have no idea Eddie’s even there yet. You have half an outfit on: your good jeans and your pajama shirt. You’d put the music on thinking it would help you find something to wear. It’s done nothing of the sort.

“I’d heard about you before,” you sing, settled in an ever growing pile of clothes.

“I wanted to know some more…”

You find a shirt, and pull it on, victorious. “Honey honey, let me feel it, a-ha, honey honey.”

You don’t even hear Eddie knock on your door, but you do see him when he comes in, and it scares the shit out of you, even if you are mid "honey honey."

“Fuck, Eddie! Why!” You hold a hand to your chest.

“You’re music’s so damn loud!”

“You don’t have any room to talk,” you say, lowering the volume.

“This is what you do when I’m not around? Listen to ABBA? What will your Jamie-waymie think?” Eddie’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He’s so pleased with himself.

"Fuck you, Munson. ABBA is good shit."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that, okay?" Eddie eyes the mess that has become your room. "Why the avalanche, may I ask?"

You roll your eyes. "I was trying to find something to wear to your show, shithead."

"Rude to say that to someone giving you a ride." He crosses his arms and sits down on your bed, though he has to stop and yank a pair of jeans out from under his ass first.

"Go ahead, don't let me stop your rave."

You fight the urge to say something smart and look for a pair of socks. You spend a few moments looking for a matching set, and then settle on the floor to put your shoes on.

You're halfway through lacing one of them when you hear it.

The song has changed by now, but either way it isn't you singing this time.

"I used to think I was sensible..."

"It makes the truth even more incomprehensible."

Eddie's voice. You spin.

"What was that?" You ask the boy.

His lips tick up at the corners. "I don't know what you're talking about."

You aggressively finish lacing your other shoe. "Don't bullshit me, man! You were singing along to this! Is that what you do when I'm not around? Listen to ABBA?"

Eddie reaches for your hands to pull you up from the floor. "I can't listen to ABBA for you?" His voice has softened, and he sweeps lint from your shoulder.

"For moi?" You ask incredulously.

"Yeah, you fucker. You started listening to Judas Priest for me, did you not? I think I can deal with a little ABBA. I might even like it."

You smack a kiss on Eddie's cheek, and he goes bright red.

"That's just not fair," he says, chuckling.

"I think it's totally fair." You think about when he kissed yours the other day in the parking lot.

Fair enough that Eddie even lets you listen to two whole ABBA songs on the way to The Hideout.

————

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