#IM ON THE FLOOR BEGGING FOR A FIC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bsturnzmtt · 29 days

Note

Can you write a fic that Matt and yn were not getting along at first but they get drunk have sex. During it Matt gets too rough and yn have to use her safe word so Matt give her plenty of aftercare PLEASE IM ON MY KNEES BEGGINGGGG🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼(involve stomach bulging🤭🙈)

Blurred desires - Matt Sturniolo

Enemies to lovers

Paring: rough dom!Matt x sub!Reader

Contains/warnings: rough sex, stomach bulge, drunk sex, usage of safe word, overstimulation, spanking, pussy slaps, edging, pet names, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cnc, after care. More stuff. Tell me if I missed something

Summary: You stumble across your enemy, Matt Sturniolo at a party. What happens when you two are drunk and there’s some tension between you guys?

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Matthew Sturniolo. Your worst enemy. He made your life impossible since the moment you two met. You never understand why, but after a while, you got tired of trying to understand so you just gave him the same attitude he gave you. Unfortunately you had to see him on a regular basis because you’re best friends with his brothers Nick and Chris.

Nick and Chris have been talking about this party they are going to on Friday for like three days in a row. Today, Thursday they are convincing begging you to come also.

“Come onnnn y/n it’s going to be so fun!” Nick says, trying to persuade you.

“Yessss there’s gonna be alcohol, many people, many friends” Chris adds.

“Okay okay! I’ll go!” You say laughing.

“Yayyy that’s great!” Nick says excitedly.

“Do you want us to pick you up tomorrow?” Chris asks.

“Ummm no it's fine, I'll just uber. Plus I don't think Matt will like the idea of picking me up if he’s the one driving.” You say laughing.

“He’s an asshole, just ignore him.” Nick says.

“Yeah I know. But I still prefer to uber, just text me the address.” You respond.

Next day. Friday…

You are almost ready for the party and your Uber is 3 minutes away. You add some finishing touches to your makeup and brush your hair one last time. You straighten up your dress and take one last glance in the mirror before heading to the uber. After 15 minutes of boring traffic you got to the party. You pay the uber and get out of the car. You decided to text Nick and Chris before entering the party.

“Hey guys I’m here” you text them. And start walking towards the door. You opened the door and you felt the music blasting and colorful lights everywhere. You walk through some people until you see Nick and Chris waving at you. You walk to them and of course Matt is with them.

“Hey girl! You made it!” Nick says hugging you.

“Hiiii” you say and hug him back for a few seconds then you go to greet Chris who was talking to Matt.

“Hey Chris!” You say.

Chris turns around. “Hey y/n!” Chris says.

After that you make eye contact with Matt for a few seconds. Matt just stares at you with a blank expression, but he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps staring for a couple seconds before turning back around to talk to Chris again. You decide to ignore Matt and not let him ruin your night out with friends.

You see many of your girl friends by the bar so you decide to go there to say hi and also get some drinks. As the night goes on you got drinks after drinks, shots after shots. Most of the night you stayed with your girl friends dancing and drinking. While drunkenly dancing on the dance floor, with the corner of your eye you spy ‘Nick’ getting a drink at the bar. So you decide to approach him not knowing you are confusing him with his triplet brother Matt.

You walk to him. “Oh my god Nick. Literally the cutest guy came up to me to ask me for my number!” You say slurring your words and grabbing him by his arm.

The person you're talking to slowly turns around, and it's not Nick, it's Matt. He looks at you and chuckles. "I'm not Nick," he says with a smirk. “Are you seriously that drunk?”

You roll your eyes as you realize it's Matt. “Ugh shut up I’m not drunk.” You say, still slurring your words as you take your hands off his arm.

Matt's grin widens, clearly amused by your drunken state. "Oh really? Because from where I'm standing, you seem pretty intoxicated." He steps closer to you, his voice lowering. "And you were just hanging all over me."

“First of all, I thought you were Nick. Secondly, you seem as drunk as I am.” You respond.

"Maybe," Matt says, leaning even closer, "but at least I can still form a coherent sentence." His eyes flicker to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again. "You know, if you wanted to touch me, you could just ask."

“Ew, no. You wish.” You say rolling your eyes and taking a seat at the stool bar motioning the bartender for another drink.

Matt laughs heartily, enjoying your back-and-forth banter. "Keep telling yourself that," he says, leaning against the bar next to you. He flags down the bartender and orders another drink for himself, sliding it over to you instead. "On the house," he says mockingly.

You look at him. “Hm, what a gentleman.” You say sarcastically but still accept the drink. You grab the glass and take a long sip.

Matt grins mischievously, enjoying your snarky comebacks. "Gotta keep you hydrated," he says, his eyes glinting with amusement. He takes a swig of his own drink, his gaze never leaving yours. He tilts his head, considering you. "You know, you're different when you're drunk."

You frown your eyebrows and look at him. “What do you mean?” You ask.

"You're more... unguarded," Matt says, choosing his words carefully. "You're usually so cold and aloof around me. But now, you're actually talking to me without biting my head off." He smirks, taking another sip of his drink. "It's... interesting."

“Well I’m like that because most of the time you’re mean and annoying towards me. Right now you’re not being that annoying.” You respond.

Matt laughs, throwing his head back. "Fair enough," he says, turning to face you fully. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But for the record, I'm only mean to you because you're so easily riled up." His eyes drop to your lips before leaning back. "But…I'll try to be less annoying tonight. But I can't make any promises." He chuckles.

As you’re about to say something, one of your friends comes up to you. “Y/n! Girl, come on, this is our song!” She says and starts dragging you to the dance floor.

Matt watches as you're dragged away by your friend, a hint of frustration crossing his face. He sighs and finishes his drink before setting the glass down on the bar. He glances out at the dance floor, spotting you dancing with your friends.

As you kept dancing, the cute guy that you mentioned to ‘Nick’ came up to you and started dancing with you.

Matt's eyes narrow as he watches the guy dancing with you. His jaw clenches and he looks away, trying to shake off the feeling of jealousy that's rising up inside him. He orders another drink and downs it quickly, feeling the alcohol coursing through his veins.

You keep dancing with the guy, but after a while you sneak out of the dance floor to go to the bathroom.

Matt sees you slip away from the dance floor and quickly finishes his drink. Seeing an opportunity, he follows you discreetly. As you push open the bathroom door and disappear inside, he slips in behind you, unnoticed. He leans against the wall, waiting for you to come out of the stall.

After 2 minutes you stumble out of the bathroom. “Matt? This is the ladies room you know.” You slur out.

Matt pushes off from the wall and steps closer to you, his grin lazy. "I know," he says, his voice low. "I wanted to talk to you without... distractions." He reaches out, steadying you as you wobble on your heels. "You okay there?" He chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” You say grabbing onto his arms so you don't fall.

Matt's grin widens, and he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist to support you. "You don't have to hold on so tight," he murmurs, his face inches from yours. "I've got you."

You look at him and start loosening your grip on his arm.

Matt's hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "On second thought... keep holding on," he whispers, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

You don’t know why but you’re starting to feel nervous and also you feel your face growing hot. “I- uhm… I have to- to go back with my friends.”

Matt's grip on you tightens, and he takes a step forward, backing you up against the sink counter. "Not yet," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. He tips your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "You're not going anywhere until we talk."

“Talk about what?” You ask.

Matt's thumb brushes against your bottom lip, silencing you. "About how much I can't stand you," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "About how you drive me crazy with your smart mouth and your icy glares. About… that stupid guy you were dancing with.”

Matt's expression darkens, and he leans in closer, his face inches from yours. “You’re such a slut.” He chuckles.

“What did you say?” You ask in an annoyed tone.

Matt's smirk widens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your face. "You heard me," he taunts. "Dancing with some random guy... you're so easy. No wonder everyone calls you a- "

Before he could finish his sentence you pushed him. “Fuck you.”

Your push barely moved a muscle on him. He takes a step forward, crowding you against the sink again. "What's wrong? Can't handle the truth?"

“It’s not true. So shut up.” You say.

Matt scoffs, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh yeah?" Matt says mockingly. “So if i were to touch your panties, they wouldn’t be soaking wet?”

You swallow hard at his words. “Wh-what?”

He leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I bet you're hot and wet right now. Are you?" His hand moves down to your thigh, grabbing it firmly. "Are you wet for me… or for that guy?"

You bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together but don’t respond.

Matt's grin turns predatory, and he slides his hand up your thigh, slowly, until it reaches the hem of your short dress. "So quiet now... not so icy anymore. Maybe I should find out for myself..."His hand slowly moves under your dress, his fingers brushing against your inner thigh. "Last chance to stop me," he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. "Tell me to stop, and I will." His hand moves higher, reaching the edge of your underwear. But you remain silent, still biting on your lip.

But you remain silent, still biting on your lip.

Taking your silence as consent, Matt's hand slips under your underwear, his fingers slowly parting your wet folds. He groans softly against your neck. "You're soaking wet... and it's not for that guy, is it?" His fingers slowly push into you, stretching you. "Admit it..."

You close your eyes and whimper as you feel his fingers stretching you out. You grab onto his neck for steadiness.

Matt's breathing grows heavier as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you. "Say it... say it's not for him," he demands hoarsely. His thumb finds your swollen nub, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles.

You try your best not to moan. “What if it is for him?” You say in a challenging tone, trying to get him mad.

Matt's face darkens, and his touch becomes rougher. "wrong answer," he growls. His fingers pump into you faster, harder, his thumb rubbing you furiously. "Say it... say it's for me."

“Oh fuck” you whimper at the change of speed, but still maintaining your challenging self. “I wouldn’t want to lie…”

Matt's expression hardens, and he uses his free hand to tilt your head up to look at him. "Oh yeah? You wanna be like that...?" he whispers against your skin. His touch becomes demanding, almost punishing, as if he's pouring all his frustration into it. “Then you’re coming with me.” He says as he abruptly takes his fingers out and drags you out of the bathroom to a room upstairs.

Once inside, he slams the door shut locking it and pushes you down on the bed. "Your safe word is red. Now... spread your legs," he orders, his voice low and commanding. He begins unbuckling his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. "You wanted to play hard to get..."

You obediently spread your legs open, loving how rough and mad he was getting.

Matt steps between your legs, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. He pulls his belt out and wraps it around your wrist, securing it to the bed frame. "You're gonna stay like this... until I'm done with you," he growls.

You buck your hips upward trying to get some sort of friction.

Matt smirks darkly, enjoying your eagerness. He slowly unzips his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. "So impatient..." He climbs onto the bed, settling between your parted thighs. "You're not going to touch me... you're just gonna take it." Matt grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Understand?" He asks, his voice cold and demanding. Without waiting for a response, he thrusts his hard, naked cock into you in one brutal stroke, not giving you a chance to adjust. "Fuck... you're so tight,"

“Fuck” you moan loudly as you arch your back feeling pain and pleasure. “T-too big”

"Shut up," Matt snaps, his hands gripping your hips as he starts pounding into you with relentless force. "You can take it, right? Since you’re such a slut." he hisses. "And you'll take all of it. Won't you?" He leans down, biting your neck, his hips pumping faster. "Say it..." He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, the force of his thrusts making the bed shake.

“Oh fuck Mmhp” you moan loudly.

Matt chuckles darkly at your moans, his pace becoming even more brutal. "That's it... scream for me," he demands, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He reaches down and spreads your pussy open with his fingers, getting a better view of his cock pounding into you.

“Mmh Matt … fuck I’m so close” you whimper pathetically.

"Not yet," Matt growls, his thrusts getting even more intense. He reaches up and twists your nipples between his fingers. "You'll cum when I say you can." He lets go and starts to slap your tits, leaving his handprint on them. He leans back, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders, changing the angle of his thrusts. "Now this is fucking perfect..."

“Shit… Mmhp Matt I- I can’t hold it.” You moan as tears of pleasure and pain run down your face.

"I don't care," Matt hisses, his face contorting with pleasure as he continues to mercilessly pound into you. He leans down to bite your neck again, marking you. "You. Will. Not. Come. Until. I. Say."

You moan loudly and you try, you really try to hold it, but you can’t. Your pussy starts to tighten around Matt and your orgasm starts to spill out.

"Fuck!" Matt roars with anger as he feels your pussy clench around him. Matt's face darkens with anger, and he slams into you even harder, punishing you for disobeying. "You couldn't even do that...?" His voice is dangerously low. He reaches down and grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he continues to thrust into you.

“Matt.. mhh I- Im sorry” you whimper.

"Sorry?" Matt's voice is cold and harsh. "Sorry isn't going to cut it right now." He pulls out of you abruptly and sets your wrists free then he flips you over onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and pulls them up into the air, spreading your ass cheeks apart.

"You're going to pay for that," he says coldly, spitting on your hole and pressing a finger against it. "You're so worked up that you couldn't even wait for permission... Now, I'm going to teach you some self-control."

“Mmhhhh” you moan moving your hips backwards, trying to get more friction.

Matt ignores your moans and movements, focusing on his task. He pushes his finger inside you, scissoring it to stretch you open. "No, no, no... You don't get to move like that," he scolds, pulling his finger out of your pussy and spanking your ass hard.

“Mhhp shit”

Matt continues to spank your ass, each slap echoing through the room. "I said, no moving. You're going to stay still until I decide otherwise." He pauses, his hand still raised in the air, ready to strike again. "Now, I'm going to give you a choice."

You keep still waiting for him to talk.

"Either I start using my belt on your ass, or I'll let you cum when I put my finger back in your pussy, but you have to promise to stay still and not move until I say you can." He pauses, letting his words sink in. "Choose quickly, I'm losing patience."

“I- I’ll stay still…I- I promise.”

Matt nods, satisfied with your choice. He puts his finger back inside you, moving it slowly and deliberately. "That's a good girl," he says, his tone softening slightly. "Just stay still for me. I want to see how well you can control yourself."

“Mmmhhh” you moan.

Matt slowly increases the pace and pressure of his touch, his finger sliding in and out of you with maddening slowness. He wants to test your limits, to see how far you can hold back before you snap. He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You're doing so well..."

“Mmh more please.” You cry out.

Matt smirks at your words, but he doesn't increase his pace. Instead, he moves his free hand to your clit, his finger pressing down on the sensitive bud. "Be careful what you wish for," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

“Fuck….mm”

Matt continues to rub your clit in time with his finger moving in and out of your pussy. He's creating a torturous rhythm, keeping you on the edge but not allowing you to cum. "Look at you, so desperate and needy," he taunts, his breath hot against your ear.

“Matt… please”

Matt relishes the desperation in your voice. He knows you're close to breaking. He leans down and bites your neck, his fingers continuing their unyielding rhythm. "Beg some more," he growls. "Maybe then I'll let you cum."

“Please Matt… I promise I’ll be good.”

Matt finally relents, his finger pressing down hard on your clit as he curls his other finger inside you, rubbing against your g-spot. "Good girl," he praises, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now cum for me. Cum hard."

“Ohh… fuck fuck fuck” you moan as you feel that knot in your stomach finally releasing.

Matt grunts approvingly as your body convulses around his fingers. He keeps his hand on you until your movements slow, then he withdraws his hand and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. "Very good," he says, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. Matt smiles at you, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He leans in and kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth to taste yourself on his lips. "I'm not done with you yet," Matt's smile widens at your expression. He grabs a pillow and places it under your hips, tilting your bottom up higher. He positions himself in between you.

Matt runs his hands along your thighs, caressing your skin. "You're going to take me again," he says, his voice low and commanding. "And this time, you're not going to come until I say so."

Matt grabs his dick and rubs the head against your soaked pussy, teasing you. He looks into your eyes, his gaze intense. "Understand?" He asks, his voice firm. "You don't cum until I say so." He pushes the head of his dick inside you, slowly, stretching you open.

“Mmhh” you nod.

Matt's face contorts with pleasure as he slowly pushes more of himself inside you. He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pauses, buried to the hilt. "You feel that? You feel how deep I am?" He asks, his voice strained.

You try to speak but only whimpers and moans come out of your mouth.

Matt starts to move, pulling out slowly until just the head is inside, then slamming back in. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with no mercy. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans. "So fucking tight."

“Ahhh fuck mmmhp… t- to much”

Matt ignores your pleas, his movements becoming even more frantic. He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. "You're not allowed to cum," he reminds you, their breath hot against your ear. "You're not allowed to fucking cum until I say so."

Matt reaches around, finding your clit with his fingers. He starts to rub slow circles around it, making sure you can feel every touch. "You're so close, aren't you?" He asks, his voice strained with pleasure.

“Mmhhfp” you moan and nod.

Matt tightens his grip on your hips as he increases the speed of his hips. "Not yet," he hisses. "Not until I say so." He continues to rub your swollen nub, knowing that you're right on the edge, but not allowed to fall over.

“Fuuuuuckkk mmmh s-slow down”

Matt's breathing quickens as he gets closer to his own release. He knows you're desperate to cum, but he's enjoying the control he has over you. "Quiet," he orders, his hand moving to cover your mouth.

He continues to thrust into you, his hips moving like a piston. His fingers on your mouth muffle your cries, while his other hand still circles your swollen nub. He's close, and he knows you're on the verge of disobeying his order. "Not...yet..." he hisses.

Matt lets out a low, guttural moan as he finally finds his release. He buries himself deep inside you, his whole body tensing up. "Now," he gasps, his hand moving from your mouth to your hip, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh.

You moan as you squirt all over his cock.

Matt gasps as he feels you squirt all over his cock. His hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing frantic circles around it as he feels you continue to spasm and tremble around him. "Fuck...yes..." He pants, his own release still pulsing through him. Matt keeps his hand on your clit, rubbing it vigorously as he stays buried inside you. He can feel your pussy milking his cock, desperate to keep him inside even as it continues to spasm and twitch.

You start to feel overstimulated. “Fuck.. stop, to much” you cry and push his hand away… not knowing you’ll regret that later…

Matt's hand stops rubbing your clit, but he doesn't pull out of you. "Too much?" he repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He's still buried deep inside, his cock twitching slightly as he feels your desperate plea. He looks down at you, his eyes narrowed. "You don't get to say stop," Matt continues. "You don't get to choose when I stop," he growls, his hips starting to move again. He pulls out slowly, before thrusting back in deep and hard. He does this a few times, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

“Matt Matt mmhp no…. Too much.” Your body immediately pulls away.

Matt growls in frustration as you pull away from him, his cock pulling out of your pussy with a wet, slapping sound. He looks at you, his eyes narrowed. "You're going to regret that," he growls. He grabs you by your hips and flips you around. His hands immediately spread your legs apart. His hand goes and slaps your pussy.

“Fuck!” Your back arches back.

Matt's hand comes down on your soaked flesh again and again. The sound of his palm meeting your wet, puffy folds fills the room. "You pull away from me again," he growls. "And you'll regret it."

Matt's hand keeps slapping your pussy, the force of each hit making your body jolt. He doesn't stop, not until your pussy is bright red and swollen from the punishment. Finally, he stops and stands up, his cock still hard and angry. Matt grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up, resting them on his shoulders. He lines himself up with your punished hole and slowly pushes himself back inside. He's gentler this time, but only to tease you. "You're mine," he growls. "And you'll take everything I give you."

“Mhhhm fuck” you moan. Your vision starts to blur.

Matt grabs your thighs and spreads you wider, his hips slowly thrusting as he looks down at where your bodies are joined. "Look at you," he whispers. "So wet, so ready. You were made for me." His voice grows darker. "And you'll learn to take what I give you."

“Matt it's too much… mmmh”

Matt's thrusts grow harder, faster. He's fucking you with ruthless intent, his cock pounding into your pussy like it's trying to break something inside you. "Too much?" he snarls. "You think this is too much? Wait until I really lose control."

“Fuck I- mmhp… Matt… red! Red.” You can’t take it anymore so you say the safe word.

Matt immediately freezes, his body tensing as he hears you say the safe word. He pulls out of you gently, his arms wrapping around you. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle now. "I've got you."

Tears run down your face. “I- im sorry…”

Matt shushes you, his fingers wiping away your tears. "No, don't apologize," he says softly. "This is what the safe word is for. To stop anything that's too much. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to push you that far."

He holds you close, not saying anything more as he lets you process the emotions running through you. When he feels you starting to relax, he pulls back slightly and looks into your eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks softly.

You nod slowly.

He sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you again, holding you close. "Good," he murmurs. "Let's just rest for a bit, okay? We can talk about this later when you're feeling better." He settles back against the pillows, pulling you onto his chest.

But you guys suddenly hear someone knock on the bedroom door. “Hey! I said bedrooms are off limits!”

“Fuck… it’s probably the host of the party” Matt mumbles.

“Wh- what do we do?”

Matt quickly helps you clean up and get dressed. And he also gets dressed up. “Let me drive you home, okay?”

“What about Nick and Chris?” You ask.

Matt sighs, “They can take an Uber. We can’t risk getting caught like this. I’ll text them.” He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the bedroom. He leads you downstairs, where the party is still in full swing.

Matt's grip on your hand tightens as he weaves through the crowd, making his way to the door. He doesn't say anything until they're outside and in the car. "I'm sorry about that," he says.

“About what?” You ask.

"About getting carried away like that… a-“

“Don’t worry about it” you cut him off.

Matt glances at you as he pulls out of the driveway. "No, really. I promise I won't push you like that again. Unless... unless you want me to." He pauses, his voice growing softer. "Did you like any of it?"

You laugh softly. “Of course I did… It was amazing. It’s just at the end it… it was too much.”

Matt nods understandingly. "I know. And I'm sorry. But you liked the other parts? The spanking, the way I talked to you?"

“It was kinda hot…”

Matt smirks at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "Kinda hot, huh?" His hand rests on your thigh as he drives, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll have to explore that more, then. But not today. Today, I just want to make sure you're okay."

AHH ALMOST 2000 FOLLOWERS ❤️

SORRY FOR TAKING TOO LONG TO WRITE THIS

Hope you guys like it 🩷🙌

4217 words….

Not read proof!!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa @mattsturniololover1 @mattsturniolosgf @mattsturnihoe @annsx03 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @strnzzvsp @l34n @mattsfavbitchhh @chr1sgirl4life @yourenogoodforme @mattshighway @lauren-222 @slvtformatts @megamorgan44 @sturnsxbitvh @pixiespax @xaristhings @slutforsturnioloss @ariestrash @sucretwin @tisiablack @sturniololover69 @lianomer @wakeupitschrizz @jessie-essie @freshlov3 @sturniolofreakk @lydi2718 @chrisstvrns @le4hsblog

829 notes · View notes

divinesolas · 3 months

Note

Hi, could you do an Aemond one shot where he and Reader (Rhaenyra's bastard daughter) are husband and wife and she and Aemond are married, based on the first episode of season 2 where instead of killing Aegon's son, kill the reader's son and aemond

a.n: hi hi ty for the request 🫶 i had a little too much fun writing this, this probably isnt what you wanted this is not a happy fic but i still hope you enjoy regardless 🫶🫶 slightly inspired by the events of ep two

Despite the halls of the keep being pure chaos everyone swiftly moved out of the way for the one eyed prince who rushed through the halls seeking out the one who he knew needed him.

They had been in his room. They wanted him. But they must have left his room when they knew he was not there and stumbled their way into the nursery which was attached to his room where his son had been. His son. his only child. and he was furious.

The door to the council room slams open and otto swiftly turns to look and stand before him, “where have you been-“ otto is shoved out of his way as he goes to kneel next to his sobbing wife on the floor who was clutching a blanket on the floor.

You look at him with red eyes and choke out his name, he grabs your face in his hands and looks upon you for a moment before you throw yourself into his arms. Shoving your head in his neck to breathe in his scent, to feel his pulse, make sure he’s real.

“they killed our son.” your words come out choked in between your sobs and he strokes up and down your back, “i tried to offer them anything, gold, myself, but they only wanted him aemond only him.” he shushes you and pressed a kiss against your temple, speaking into your ear. “Im sorry my love im sorry.”

He will return the pain they have brought to not only himself but worst of all to his wife and he will pay it tenfold. A lone tear streaks down his face as you say nothing more merely continue to sob into him while the other faces in the room can only merely watch with sorrow.

He picks you up, making sure to keep the blanket firmly in your grasp as he turns to leave the room ignoring the voices calling after him. They must want to discuss what they plan to do now but he wants no part in it, only wanting to comfort his wife.

“they were saying they want to blame my mother.” You had calmed down at some point, still delirious with grief but you had stopped crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as aemond kept you firmly next to him. “she would never do a thing like this. my mother loves me, why would she send someone out for my son.”

Aemond is quiet and his hand on your back falters for a moment, “she wishes to punish me.” you say nothing but he notices how you shift ever so slightly.

With the way you two were right now nobody could tell the two of you have not spoken in those fourteen days since his return when he broke the news to the court. When he broke the news to you. Your own brother murdered in cold blood.

You could never forgive him despite his attempts to talk to you after, you swiftly dismissed him and his words would fall on deaf ears. Your baby brother was everything to you, you remember growing up side by aide and he was teary eyed the day you permanently moved to the keep.

despite your hatred for him and your hatred for your mothers usurpation you cannot go home. The people here watch you like a hawk you cannot even send a letter out to her but alicent is free to beg and plead to her like a pathetic dog. you hate them. Yet you allow him to comfort you because you know you will get no comfort from anyone else here.

“they wish to flaunt me around like a prized lamb. ‘gain sympathy from the houses.’ he says.” You ignore his words and continue to speak. “I will not allow it.” you shrug mindlessly and sit up, he stays laying down. His eye patch off and hair down from its usually prime and perfect state, he had thrown his shirt off at some point too.

You can see it, the hurt that laces his eye and his face, his hand finds yours and you want to rip it away but you cant, the warmth on your skin bringing you a small sense of comfort.

“i had thought we would work. That you would finally move on and forgive grievances of the past. But i hate you just as you hate me aemond,” “i do not hate you. i love you.” you shake your head as he says it, sitting up and gripping your arms tightly, trying to hold your gaze as he says it again.

“i will never forgive you. I will hate you for as long as a breathe.”

“i did not mean to i lost my temper that day.”

“you feeling sorry means nothing to me you know that. how would you feel if the men who murdered our son came in here and said they were sorry., that they didn’t mean to.”

He says your name and his grip tightens on your arms but you continue to merely stare off mindlessly.

“i will repent for the rest of my life. our son will be brought justice.”

he will kill every man in the keep if he has to, slay every man in all of westeros if they cannot figure out who had done it. For you. for his son.

“i love you.” the words come out strained as he begs and pleads to anyone who is willing to listen to him for you to say something else anything to him.

you do. you finally look at him. a look devoid of any love you had once had for him. and it kills him.

“you’re pathetic.”

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #house of the dragon #aemond smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemondtargaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #prince aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader

825 notes · View notes

fartcloudfartcloud · 13 days

Text

Logan Howlett x Squirter!Reader

oneshot (4.5k words) - You know how to make yourself squirt, but its no easy process. You just accepted your reality of it only happening once in a blue moon and only when you were alone. Maybe Logan can prove you wrong. pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x f!reader tags -first time sex, oral/fingering f recieving, lots of princess, baby, sweetheart, lots of logans filthy (and whiny) mouth, one swift bite, reader has boobs and a vagina and pullable hair, nondescript body other then a few thigh/hip descriptions, squirting obvi, lots of wet everywhere, lots of praise and begging from both parties, logan will not shut up

SEND ME REQUESTS AND SHIT!!!! I WANNA KEEP WRITING!!! GIVE ME IDEAS IM THIRSTY IM HUNGRY RAAAHHHG

this is self indulgent as shit and I havent written a fic and actually posted it since i was like 15 but that fic by @silverskyeline had me inspired because I may or may not be a squirter and i needed to write it for myself. i feel like this is kinda ass butt but i tried my best and i hope its bearable :)

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..

The first time it happened, it caught you off guard.

Finding yourself alone in your home with some down time, you'd sat in your office chair, legs propped up on either side of the wood and headphones slipped over your ears as you scrolled through your options, clicking the first link that piqued your interest. It was how you preferred to masturbate these days, a deep voiced man slowly working you through it, your hands a mirror image of how the man describes his methods of pleasure through your headphones.

It doesn’t take long before you’re lost in it, 13 minutes into the 24-minute audio and you've got one hand plowing your favorite dildo in and out in long, deep thrusts, angled exactly how you need it. the tip catches against your cervix and thumps up against your g spot in one fluid movement, your head thrown back in breathless euphoria. The voice switches between each ear, alternating as it groans praise and direction between its moans of pleasure. You’re choking on the feeling of it all, moans coming out in hiccups and cries as you desperately try to maintain some dignity. The voice slips into a gravely come on baby, rub that clit while I fuck you, cum on this cock sweetheart and suddenly your other hand joins the mix, sloppily rubbing circles into your drenched bud. The combo of the two motions, drilling yourself in mind numbing strokes with your one hand while your other sneaks down and rubs your clit, isn’t one you explore often.

But God is it fucking good.

In a flash your vision is white, it all hits you just as the voice in your ear instructs you. It’s all too much and good lord he starts counting down from 3, and somehow just as he’s growling one, baby cum for me, cum on this fucking dick, your back is arching, and your legs are shaking. Even with your head back and eyes rolled you could feel how sloppy you had gotten, drenched all the way up to you palm and wrist now. The sound was *filthy*, the audible noise of the floor beneath you getting drenched, your desperate gasps and attempts to stay quiet through the torment, and the sloppy plap… plap… of the toy inside you slowly coming to a halt.

That day your eyes were opened to a whole new world. It wasn’t easy, though, and it didn’t happen like it did in porn. Instead of a stream shooting out of you like a hose, it was more of a spray that splashed out with each thrust, and it only happened when you were splayed on your back like that pleasuring yourself exactly in that matter. You never considered yourself a squirter, per say. But it was a fun thing to brag about every now and then.

it stayed something that happened between you and your toy, though. the one or two flings you'd had since the discovery never getting anywhere near the space or level of relaxation, you’d need to be in to make it happen, and you just accepted it to be something only you could only do on rare occasions alone in your bedroom.

That was until Logan came along.

The last thing you'd choose to describe Logan as a man was patient. He was short tempered and snippy, his first day in the mansion it seemed like his mission to piss everyone he saw off. But when he met you, he suddenly softened. When he told you were lucky you were pretty the first time you spoke, he meant it, not only suddenly capable of holding his tongue but speaking with a slowed assurance as he watched you. It wasn't a surprise to anyone when he quickly weaseled his way into your bed.

Although maybe you'd bragged to a friend or two once it happened, you never thought to alert Logan of your talent. As stated, patience wasn’t exactly any term to describe Logan with, and you knew it wasn’t easy in the first place, so the thought never even crossed your mind.

That was until he hovered over you, hands expertly holding your face and neck as he passionately locked his lips with yours.

The way Logan kissed was suffocating, his big hands holding you in place as he mapped every inch of your mouth, huffing to himself every time a string of saliva or a well-timed lick would make you whimper. He hadn't done anything but sit down and kiss you and you were already overwhelmed by him.

He pulled away to stare at you intensely, memorizing every bit of the filthy frame in front of him. He had you laid out underneath him, your pretty eyes blown out and wide, looking up at him as if he was your world, your hands needily grabbing at his tank top.

"Please Logan," you whimper, leaky eyes never leaving his for even a moment.

"I haven't even done anything yet, and you're already begging," he teased as he lifted your chin up to start gently laying kisses down it. You keep a hold of his forearms as he leaves wet pink spots all the way down to where your top lies, grounding yourself in his warmth as he sends shivers down your spine. He stops, grumbling at the article of clothing stopping him from devouring you.

"Use your big boy words," you tease with a smirk, pushing your chest towards him and sensually touching his chest and collarbone. Instead of using said big boy words, he growled a deep "Off." as he flicked at the silky bow nestled against your breasts.

You sigh, your efforts for null.

"I'd ask you to just rip it off, but this is vintage," you pout as you make a show of lifting off the fabric. He raised an eyebrow, half his mind shocked at the way you tease him so effortlessly, the other half wrecked by your suggestion, an image of him pouncing on you and ripping the beautiful lac top off with his claws like an animal.

It started a fire in his stomach, one that was quickly ignited by the view of your breast's falling from the tops confines as you pulled it over your head. In his eyes, they fall in slow motion, each ripple sending shockwaves down his back as he watching them sway with your movement.

Maybe the idea of ripping that pretty top off with his claws hit a little too close to home, because in a flash he's on you. He's pushing you back with a firm hand to the sternum, using it to hold you in place against the mattress as he desperately kisses down the side of your neck and to your sternum.

"Smell so fucking good," he huffs out as he kisses down your clavicle before latching his lips around your slowly hardening nipple. The feeling makes your back arch and your breath hitch, a combo that had Logan popping a sly grin between his kitten licks to your now stiff bud.

"You say that all the time," you moan out breathlessly as he flicks his tongue. He pulls away with a pop, inching up to your ear and whispering into it.

"Sorry, let me correct myself," he leans down, sultry gaze inches from your face as he growls,

"She smells so fucking good," into your ear as he cups your mound through your shorts. You should've known in that moment you were cooked, stomach aching with how badly you needed him and hips instantly trying to buck into his wrist. He laughs at your attempt and pulls away his palm, much to your dismay.

"Don't talk about what my vagina smells like," you giggle, hiding your red face from him,

"Why not? s' like peaches, sweetheart. wanna just split you open and-" he finishes his statement but tugging your head back and exposing the column of your throat, licking a long stripe from between your breast's all the way up and under your ear, his warm hand back cupping your mound and massaging the fat through your shorts.

Your breath is robbed as his mouth leaves a wet trail that cools in the air and send a shiver down your spine. Logans mouth latches back onto your erect nipples, this time your skin tingling and buzzing with sensitivity,

"shit- I need more baby, please," you plead helplessly as your hands roam over Logans shoulders and forearms, his mouth slowly working down your body with kisses and licks.

"Need what, darling," he replies, his eyes flitting up to yours deviously. You don't respond, instead opting to roll your hips up against his, hoping he'd show mercy upon seeing your desperation. You should've known better. He pins your hips down, gripping the fat of your waist with a rough palm and letting out a displeased grunt as he teases you.

"Use your big girl words," he says with a smile, using your own words against you.

You desperately try to retaliate, your palms playfully smacking against his chest and legs kicking while you giggle and yelp,

"You can't- you fucker!" You pleade, before your limbs are quickly pinned down at your sides, your legs now pinned under his as his mouth is back at your ear, stopping you dead in your tracks as he growls. I takes a shaky deep breath, regaining his composure and savoring your smell before he speaks.

"Just tell me what I want to hear so I can taste this fucking pussy, eh sweetheart? you're killing me here," his voice becoming almost whiny at the end as he grips at your hips and grinds his visibly strained bulge against your thigh. His words shoot a shiver to your core, his brazenness too much for your foggy mind,

"Please just fucking- eat me out Logan!" you whine, hips chasing his in a desperate chase for contact. He grips your face, palm rough and big holding you in place and making you gooey and submissive as he talks,

"See? Was that so hard, bub?" he quirked with teasing grin before kissing your cheek and diving down to your hips. His arms wormed their way under your thighs, head popping up to admire the way your athletic shorts squeeze the fat of your thighs around his head. The tight shorts accentuated your curves, settling into the creases in your thighs and hips and sending a shiver down his spine as he traces his finger along the seam.

Suddenly, Logan is biting you. If you asked him why, he's not sure he could tell you, but the spot just under your stomach where your thigh meets your hip looked too appetizing not to sink his teeth into. It's gentle and playful, he growls and shakes his head like a dog with a bone and it makes you squeal and swat at his back again. You tie your hands into his hair and pull him up, a big goofy grin on his face as he peers up at you through his thick lashes, clearly having no remorse for his actions as he licks his lips and teeth.

Jesus Christ hes so hot.

He swats your hands out of his hair, desperate and feral for the taste of you in his mouth. The man wastes no time sinking his face back down and into your thigh, hands gripping you firmer now, pinning you down as he growled and nestled your inner thigh with his stubble. He looks like a little kitty cat, headbutting you to coat you in his scent, fingers kneading and savoring the thick of your hips.

"Just let me play with you how I want to baby," he whines, the lilt to his voice a little surprising. It feels like the longer you tease him, the whinier he gets. Interesting.

You pat his hair in apology and scratch his scalp, his head now laying on your thigh as he strokes your stomach. “You can't bite me, Lo!” You giggle as you scold him. He props his chin up on your stomach and pays no mind to your scolding. "Shhh baby, just take these off," the man lazily orders from his spot on your tummy, just barely lifting his head enough to give you space to pull your shorts off. You wiggle out of them with no help from Logan. He’s much too busy taking in every inch of the scene in front of him, eyes glued to your hands as they reveal your lacy pink underwear barely an inch from his face.

He could drool with how bad he needs to taste you.

You don't even get your shorts all the way off your ankle before he's pinning your hips down and raking your pretty pink panties to the side, latching his mouth over your mound and licking a thick firm stripe from the bottom of your slit all the way through to the tip of your clit. You gasp and grab at his shoulders, a slow “fuuuuck,” falling from your lips as he slowly tastes you.

He’s completely enamored by you, your smell, your taste, the way your look, the way each muscle in your thighs flexes with just the one lick. You look so fucking good like this it makes him angry.

"So fucking pretty," he spits, overwhelmed by his own rush of feelings settling in his stomach. He opts to ignore it by digging his face into you pussy, using his tongue to tease your clit slowly in circles before sliding over your glistening hole, savoring the way your slick tastes on his lips and tongue as he teases your entrance.

"Shit-" it comes out desperate and whiny from your lips as you roll your hips into his face, his nose clipping your clit as he explores your slit. The sensation makes your heels dig into the bed and your eyes flutter back with a gasp, your hands pulling on strands of the man's hair. He teases you like this, switching between circling your clit and pushing softly through your slit till you've thoroughly soaked his face with a mixture of his spit and your slick.

He raises his head with a feral growl, looking as if he's pulling away from his feast as he spits on your clit and spreads it around with his fingers. He chuckles while you squirm, kissing your thigh where his pink bite mark stains it.

"You ready, princess?" He asks, the nickname makes you shiver. You ignore his question and the implications of it, more focused on desperately trying to roll your pinned hips into his mouth, huffing with defeat as neither his hands nor your hips budge. He chuckles at your little tantrum, sitting up and peeling your damp panties away from your core. A soft kiss is delivered to your ankle before settling back into position between your legs.

A chuckle and a shake of his head is all the warning you get before hes sealing his mouth around your clit and sucking, swirling and swiping his tongue around the bud while pinning you in place. It's different.

This time he's got the whole bud suctioned into his mouth, lips and tongue and pressured sucks all swirling it in an abusing pattern. The only sound heard in the room is his wet mouth on you, any attempts at making sound robbed from you as he lathes his filthy attack on you.

You gasp and squirm to no avail, his name dying on your tongue when you manage to catch a gulp of air, your head thrown back in a silent plea. His pace doesn't falter, he doesn't unstick himself from your clit for even a moment, doesn't switch between his tongue or fingers or where he uses them, just one consistent attack as he focuses every ounce of his attention on pleasuring you. it's precise, masterful, dare you say practiced even, in the way has drawing you up. You'd have half the mind to call him a name, call him some sort of whore for knowing the ins and outs of a woman's body so meticulously. Unfortunately for you, your mind is blank as he pulls away to swap his hold on you, instead using one arm to hold you across the stomach while his other ventures down to your opening.

"Logan!" You gasp as he pulls off of you for the first time in what feels like ages, giving you a second to breathe and relax. Well, not relax per say, as Logan is underneath you giggling and gently caressing you from bottom to top.

"Gotta make sure it's all wet baby," he slurs, already pussydrunk as he spits onto your slit and rubs it all over. At this point you were dripping, probably all the way down your seam and onto to the bed if you had to guess, especially you combined with Logans sloppy mouth. The action was redundant, yet filthy none the less, and disgustingly sexy. You fall onto your back and cover your face, groaning and rolling your hips again as you catch your breath,

"You're driving me fucking crazy, Logan," you whimper into the pillow. He’s laughing at you again, kissing just above your clit as he peeps out a tender, "I know baby." He uses his firm hands to massage your thighs, your hips, even using his knuckles down your arms until you've relaxed deep into the bed.

One last kiss is placed onto your thigh before he latches his mouth back over your slit, groaning and relaxing into you like he just took a big draw from a fresh cigar.

He had played you like a damn fiddle, his little break had your muscles relaxing and allowed some air back into your lungs, and now suddenly every movement feels 10x better.

You're hyper aware of every touch, the way his tongue circles your nub before roughly grinding down out it, milking moans from your lips with expertise. He hadn't even brought his fingers back down to your opening yet, still bare and leaking from moments ago when he left you high and dry, yet you were already past the point of no return. Your stomach was tightening, your hands desperately grabbing whatever they could find before deciding on hiding your face in the pillow, successfully concealing your moans and savoring your dignity.

Logan pulled away from your core with a pop, looking to see what had caused the noises he was savoring so sincerely to suddenly stop. He was not happy to see your face covered, not only blocking those pretty sounds but covering your orgasmic expressions too.

“Uh-uh princess. Need to hear it all, and I wanna see those pretty eyes too,” He pleads, big hands coming up to pull your hands to the side and away from the pillows. He places both your wrists on your stomach, his one hand big enough to pin them both with little issue.

He grumbles something about interruptin’ me as he dives back into your core. You can practically see his ears perk back up as he hears your beautiful noises again, his tongue going straight back to its mind-numbing circles. He finally gives you mercy and brings his free hand down, two thick fingers running up and down your slit, making sure they're thoroughly soaked in slick before he's pressing them in. The ridges of his thick fingers massage your walls as they're gently worked in and out in slow strokes, the sound and feeling of Logans mouth and hands combined serving to be absolutely pornographic, and your desperate moans doing little to help.

“Logan~” you gasp in delight as the pairing of the two sensations start to settle back into your core, every sensation elevated 20-fold. He’s so unrelenting with the motions of it all, hooking his fingers and pushing them up until it feels like he's stimulating your clit from both sides. You could practically see stars, languid moans turning into breathless gasps again, your hands flexing and twitching against their spot against your stomach, desperate to grab onto him or his hair or the sheets or anything.

A filthy, “mph- hah! Just a- little more Logan!” eeks past your tense throat, your whole body overwhelmed with the feeling of him taking over every one of your senses.

“Come on princess, wanna see you cum for me,” He growls. it's so deep and attractive, and when he halts the stimulation to your clit to speak, he makes up for it by absolutely slamming his fingers into the soft spot on the roof of your pussy. You were lost, mind completely succumb to him, completely lost in the pleasure his giving you.

“Getting so tight around my fingers, baby. Just let it wash over you, don't think ‘bout nothing but how good im makin' you feel.” He moans breathlessly, having no clue what his words are doing to you. It's all too much, and before you realize it there's a familiar burn in your core, the sounds of his fingers getting louder and sloppier as more of your slick coats his fingers in an all too familiar feeling. You try to alert the man between your legs, try to tell him if he keeps fucking doing that with his fingers you're going to fucking ruin his sheets, but your pleas only serve to fuel him.

Your gasps and calls of his name do nothing to slow his motions, his biceps rippling as he doubles his efforts,

“Lo- fuck- im-!” your pleas come out in unintelligible gasps, not enough air in your lungs to beg anymore, the sounds of your arousal getting filthier and filthier. The crest up to your peak has you crying and squeezing Logans sideburns into the inner skin of your thighs, your whole body shaking as he works you to your breaking point, hands pulling and scratching just a little too hard as it all comes crumbling down. All you can hear is sloshing and wet sounds as your vision goes white.

Your orgasm bulldozes you, your throat parched from how hard you're gasping for air, your limbs sore and twitching as his fingers and tongue work you through the aftershocks. It's all gentle touches and deep gasps of air as you slowly let the stars behind your eyes fade.

You let out a long groan as you steadily come to, body paralyzed flat against the mattress, mustering up enough energy to lift your head and look down at the man of the hour. He’s removed himself from you and is sat up on his knees, the sight paired with the biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen spread across his face. His hair is tousled and falling over his forehead, his chin still dripping with evidence of your climax. His chin and his hands. And down his neck. And all over his T-shirt, the white neckline of his tank now completely transparent.

“Shit-” is all you can say as you see what's happened, hand coming up to cover your face, apologizing to Logan as you scramble up.

“Fuck, let me get a towel logan I'm sor-” “woah woah woah where do you think you're going?” he interrogates as he lays a hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks and looking at you softly,

“Your soaked Logan, I- I didn't- should've told you, I need to get a towel,” you scramble from underneath him, legs shaking and sensitive as they carry you to the bathroom. He shakes his head as he follows behind, unable to stop you as you scatter away from him and into the next room, a woman on a mission to scrub the world of the evidence of your debauchery. He watches from the doorway, his arm over his head as he leans against the door frame with a cocky smirk as you frantically grab a towel and dampen a washcloth. You turn to leave, looking up at him with a scowl as he blocks your path.

“Ya know I'm supposed to be the one doing all this, princess?” He teases, face still coated in you and glistening in the light. You bring the damp wash cloth up to his jaw and start whipping him down, at least tackling one part of the cleaning process if he wasn't going to let you pass into the bedroom.

“I’m the one who made the mess, Logan,” you remind him, patting the wetness from his stubble. He chuckles, grabbing the towel from your other hand and halting the hand scrubbing his face with a firm hand around your wrist.

"Yeah, but I made it happen. Wheres my credit, bub?" You watch shamefully as he turns and places the towel over the wet spot on the bed, hanging the damp cloth over the bed frame and looking back at you expectantly. You hang your shoulders lower,

“Logan that's not- we need to change the sheets, and you need new clothes and-” “shhh, just come here and lay down with me princess,” he coos, his naivety and dismissal of your feelings starting to frustrate you.

He approaches you with outstretched arms, coming over to loop them around your shoulders and walk you towards the mattress. You stop short of the bed, turning towards him to continue your arguing before he grabs your face with his palm, gently squeezing your cheeks into a pout and effectively stopping any defiance you had. His other hand wraps around your waist as he leans into your ears and speaks lowly,

“I don't know what kind of nonsense you've got in this pretty head of yours,”

he taps your forehead with his forefinger before placing it in your hair, soaking in your gasp as he gently yanks your head back,

“but you're not leaving until I see that,” he refers to the wet spot causing you grief, “at least one more time.”

He possessively grabs your ass, pulling you firmly against him, your breath taken as he speaks into your ear. His teasing eases your worries, and his hands on you definitely help as well.

“So, I think we forget about the sheets,” you both chuckle, your cheeks flushed as he grabs you and growls.

“And you let me play with this pretty pussy till I figure out exactly how she ticks . Sound good to you, baby?” he asks, pulling back with his eyebrows quirked and lips pulled up into a dangerous leer.

You look small in his arms, the roller coaster of emotions leaving you feeling vulnerable and submissive as you softly shake your head up and down, core heating all the way back up for him.

He smiles and brings you into a tender kiss, hands roaming your body and down your arms, grabbing your wrists and placing your palms on his chest. He praises you with gentle whispers of so beautiful, my girl, need you, as he walks you backwards to sit on the edge of the bed.

The kiss turns more heated with every passing moment, his tongue working any shame out of your mind and replacing it with that beautiful heat of pleasure only he can have given you. He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he pulls that same lopsided grin you've been slowly falling in love with.

“Think I could make you squirt like that on my dick, princess?” He asks bodely, making you snort as your face gets hot, “um, I don't know usually... it's pretty hard.” He chuckles and runs his hands over your thighs.

“Didn't seem too hard to me,” he teases slyly, making you hide your face in his chest with a giggle. He kisses the crown of your head, muttering a soft, “I'll go get some more towels,” before wandering back into the bathroom, your eyes glued on his somehow still fully clothed from. You flush red again as he walks out with 2 more towels, laying them across the mattress and crawling towards you with a hungry glare. You were in for a long night.

#writing #logan howlett #logan howlet smut #logan howlet x reader #logan wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #smut

519 notes · View notes

st4rrth0ughts · 8 months

Note

its my first time requesting so im a bit nervous..!

i've been seeing dr ratio practically EVERYWHERE and its been rotting my brain inside and out. i just need to see him fucked out his mind by m!reader while desperately trying to reading to read the book he picked up earlier, something about about a math theory? we all know he's blabbering until his speech becomes incoherent...

i was thinking the setting could be in his office(?) feel free to ignore this if you're uncomfortable with it 😭

don't be nervous, everyone is welcome here <33 real this man needs to be tied down and put in his place, we are robbed of more sub ratio fics TT-TT a/n: two veritas fics bc this man deserves it

imagine handing veritas a book, giving the man a challenge. he has to get through the entire thing while you fuck him from behind. Of course, being the person that he is, he takes up the challenge immediately, and you grin, knowing that stupid smirk would be wiped away in a instant.

You start off slow, grabbing his waist as your cock teases his entrance, making veritas's breath hitch as he reads through the first pages, leaning forward on his desk as his hands flip through the book leisurely, only for his movements to stiffen as a small gasp escapes him when your tip slides in. He stops reading for a brief moment, only for you to give him a harsh slap to his ass, threatening to leave him like this for the rest of the day, making him stammer as he continues on the book.

Slowly, your movements become more frantic, veritas can feel your cock pound into him, hitting his cervix as he leans forward, crying out as you smack his ass again, tutting your tongue as you pull away, causing Veritas to whine out as he quickly fumbles over the book's last few pages. Your honestly quite proud of him, and every good boy deserves a reward, don't they?

Lifting his hips just so that his feet were dangling over the floor, and slamming into his tight heat, causing the red eyed professor to wail out as he stutters over the last sentence, immediately dropping the book as he begs for you to hurry up and make him cum. After a few more harsh thrusts, he squirts hard, eyes rolling back as he lets out a downright pornographic moan. Oh, but you weren't done yet, afterall, you haven't had your fill yet!

#✪anon!#✦honkai star rail!#✪imagines!#dom male reader #dom reader #sub honkai star rail #sub hsr #dom gn reader #sub character #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #sub dr ratio #dr ratio smut #dr ratio x gender neutral reader #dr ratio x male reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio hsr

1K notes · View notes

mooishbeam · 9 months

Text

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.

He knew that and got greedy.

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.

“Mhm.”

“Will you change?”

“No.”

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.

Maybe you never mattered in the first place.

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying.

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday.

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs.

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over.

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat.

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off.

“I love you too, Shoko.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty.

“Mm, I’ll manage.”

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight.

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair.

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.”

“‘N how’s that gonna help?”

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.”

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny.

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.”

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.”

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.”

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.”

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.”

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings.

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene.

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself.

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching.

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result?

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real.

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night.

And you burst into tears.

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you.

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside.

“Wh’re you?” you garble.

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?”

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light.

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child.

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm.

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge.

“L’ve me alone”

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-”

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you.

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew.

Then, you shoot up.

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.

Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose.

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand.

“Finally up?”

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried.

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears.

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you.

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.

“It was fine.”

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance.

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?”

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?”

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times.

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication.

“Had business”

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment.

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy.

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation.

“’M not lyin’.”

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.”

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.”

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.”

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-”

“You could barely keep your eyes op-”

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!”

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone.

“...I know.”

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone.

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze.

“Are ya hungry?”

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances.

Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.”

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity.

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride.

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.”

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest;

“Pervert!”

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top.

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.

Not my business. You're nauseous.

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table.

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it.

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.

“You lost? Take her order” he spat.

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you.

“What’s funny?”

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.”

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors.

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say.

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can be"

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests.

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."

"It did pay well."

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?"

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household.

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."

"Don't get used to it."

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof.

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality.

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.”

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again”

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “

“Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists.

You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today.

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself:

dumbass ex

tick, tock, tick, tock

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip.

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him.

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji.

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.”

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...”

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.”

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?”

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”.

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?”

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them.

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.”

You sigh, “It’s no one new.”

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops.

“Do not fucking say it.”

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!”

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.”

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!”

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath.

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place.

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.”

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app.

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn'

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?'

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?'

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes'

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.

Oh god.

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.

“…Hello?”

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction.

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.”

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you.

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs.

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no-

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.”

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They��re very pretty.”

“They’re for you.”

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless.

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you.

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.”

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan.

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere.

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right?

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle.

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups.

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.”

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?”

“Us.”

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words.

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie.

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.”

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.”

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.”

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:("

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.”

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.”

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm.

Loving.

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks.

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything.

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip.

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.

“I don’t need healing. I need you.”

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation.

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?”

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement.

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip.

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue.

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.”

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans.

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?”

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow.

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-”

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.”

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you” Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.”

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.”

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence.

“And what else?”

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk.

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you.

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”

“Mhm!”

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth.

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come.

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air.

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm.

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight.

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close”

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.”

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek.

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear.

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go.

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs.

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?”

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?”

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain.

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other.

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?”

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.

“So, you’re the decision maker now?”

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.”

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.”

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?”

“No. You need nobody but me.”

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk

2K notes · View notes

luvyeni · 2 months

Text

THEY GO TOO FAR 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning dark fic, mentions of hitting , blood , starvation , psychological torture — parings OT7! enhypen x fem reader | back to library .

request: what about yandere!enha when they've gone too far ? like punished you/messed with you enough to the point the person is non-verbal/fainted/really mad at them etc.

— what happens enhypen goes too far with a punishment?

「 authors note 𖹭 」

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he doesn't think he went too far , in fact he got you exactly where he wanted — all to himself , that's why he did this , this why he isolated you from your friends, your family; anyone who loved you — cause only he could love you, you were his. all you did now was follow him around the house , not wanting to leave his side, you even sat on the toilet while he showered. he couldn't even leave the house without you screaming for him to stay , and that made him smile wickedly , he went too far and he loved it. "pl-please don't leave me." you sobbed , grabbing his arms , he wasn't even going anywhere, he just wanted to see what you were gonna do , smiling , he closed the door , pulling your shaking body into his arms as you begged him not to leave.

"see how easily i can leave , remember that."

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

when you did something he didn't like, he withheld everything from you; shower , food water for as long as he saw fit , he even ordered the maids and everyone else to ignore you. this went on as long as he saw fit , mostly a week , but he wanted to try and prolong it to prove a point to you. — until one day he heard a thud and scream of a maid , you had fainted. "shit." he pulled the tie of his suit. "don't just stand there pick her up take her to the room , call the doctor." he sighed. "how long did she go without eating?" He asked ,everyone was silent. "how long!" he shouted. "about a week and a half." he cursed , he went too far.

"stupid girl i told you to listen to me , call the fucking doctor."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake knew he'd gone too far, you didn't care anymore. you didn't cry when he cut himself anymore , you didn't stay up for days making sure he didn't hurt himself , you were desensitized to his actions and he didn't know what to do , you were gonna leave him for sure now , he no longer had control. "I'll really kill myself this time , I promise." you stood there watching him bleed from his arms , every emotion flowing through your brain — you snapped , picking up the knife. "fine." he watched you put the blade to your arm , slicing it. "y-yn." you screamed as he began to cry. "shut up , shut up." you shouted at him. "you wanna die? you can't live without me? let's die then." you said , he was watching you go crazy.

he didn't know what to do , he'd gone way too far.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon was short tempered at times , and you both knew it was only a matter of time before he went too far with his punishments , and he did. "su-sunghoon please." you could see he face turning red. "i'm sorry." he didn't hear you , all he saw was you hitting him and running towards the door , it was locked and he had the key , but he was pissed. "sunghoon please im sorry." all he wanted to do was push you to the floor , but he pushed too hard , you fell to the ground not before hitting your head on the table , knocking you out cold. "shit." he ran his fingers through his hair , checking your pulse— you were still breathing. he picked your body up off the floor taking you back to his room.

he actually felt bad this time

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

it happened too fast , you were leaving out the door, you were gonna leave him all alone , you were falling for his manipulation tactics anymore , you didn't pack anything ready to leave , he blacked out , like everything was in flashes; one minute your hand was on the door knob , another flash and the lamp was in his hand and he was behind you , then another flash and you were on the floor , he'd hit you. "oh no." he dropped the lamp , tears welling in his eyes , you were breathing but you were out cold . "im so sorry." he sobbed , holding you in his arms. "yo-you were gonna leave me , i couldn't let you go." he cried. "I'm so sorry." he moved you to the bed.

"i-im sorry i went too far."

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

so maybe he left you in the isolated room too long; normally it was only a week, he knew you could take it— so then what about 2 weeks? 2 and a half weeks? 3 weeks? no you couldn't take it , and jungwon soon found that once he stopped hearing you scream , when he went to give you food , you barely ate it , then you stopped eating all together. he started to fear you were dead , he didn't want that , so he opened the door , where you were balled up in a corner , hair messy , you whimpered from the light shining into the room. "hey come on." he said, you didn't move , he tried to come near you , but you tried to bury yourself into your knees , muttering im sorry over and over again , until he picked you up from the floor taking you to his room.

when you crawled into a ball silently sobbing to yourself , he realized he went too far.

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

ni-ki doesn't think he went too far , he didn't even twist your arm that hard , why are you crying like a baby? "it's not broken , get up." you don't get up , so he grabs you by that arm which makes you scream in pain , he drops you on the couch. "shit." he realizes it might actually be broken. "i told you not to leave again and you did , this is your fault." he said , how the hell was he gonna explain this to a doctor? he won't , cause he's not taking you to the doctor, well not at first. "go take a pain killer and stop screaming before someone hears you." he only takes you to a doctor because he's sick and tired of hearing you scream.

"fine i'll take you , just shut up."

466 notes · View notes

eddiesxangel · 3 months

Text

Noisy Neighbours | E.M

Summary: Eddie has no idea what he’s getting into with the two new girls next door.

An: HAPPY PRIDE 🏳️‍🌈 this is my first fic like this so im hoping you’ll like it! Today is my birthday and I wanted to do this as my little gay gift to you! And shout out to @xxbimbobunnyxx for listening to my deranged horny thots throughout writing this 😘💋

Cw: f!reader x f!readers girlfriend x Eddie. Reader and of gf are bi/pan/ whatever you want them to be. Threesome, oral ( fxf + fxm) fingering, , 69ning, ass play ,p in v.

4.3k words

Eddie felt a surge of frustration and disappointment when he learned about the impending arrival of new neighbours that would be moving in directly beside his apartment. Despite the several vacancies in the building, the landlord, Gerry, opted to place the new tenants next to Eddie. This decision left Eddie contemplating whether Gerry held a personal grudge against him, possibly due to his occasional late-night guitar solos that may have disturbed the peace of the building.

Eddie had grown accustomed to the absence of tantalizing food aromas wafting from his neighbour's kitchen and the absence of music that he imagined others endured. He found solace in the cozy life he had built for himself in apartment 3A. However, the impending arrival of new occupants in 3B threatened to disrupt the tranquillity he had carefully cultivated.

Eddie changed his tune the second he got wind of who his new neighbours would be. When he had seen the moving truck out front through his window, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Eddie watched and waited as one of the hottest girls he’d ever seen get out of the driver's seat; he soon learned her name was Sabrina. He continued to watch, his eyes begging him to blink but he couldn’t move as he watched you hop out. You had giggled at something at what the bombshell blonde said. His jaw hung open, and his tongue almost hit the floor like a cartoon character as he ogled you as well. The set of you sure was a sight for soar eyes. What karma Eddie had was finally coming for him, and he was so grateful.

Eddie felt he had to introduce himself, it was a neighbourly thing to do.

After two days, he worked up the courage to knock on the door of 3B.

“You expecting someone?” Your girlfriend pops her head up curiously. You’re both cuddling on the couch, exhausted from unpacking.

“Nope,” you emphasize the p sound.

She shuffled up and opened the door. “Oh, hello,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, and your morbid curiosity took over, needing to see who stood on the other side.

“H-Hi,” you hear a deep voice. "I'm Eddie.” He sounded hot. You quickly get up off the couch and make your way to where Sabrina stood.

“Who’s this?” You caught sight of the man before you and gave a small smile.

“This is Eddie; he lives next door.” You grab onto your girlfriend’s waist as she speaks.

“Hi Eddie, it’s nice to meet you.” You smile genuinely.

“Pleasure is all mine.” His eyes scan your body; you’re in tiny sleep shorts and a baby tee with no bra.

“Do you want to come in? I think we have something to drink around here.” Sabrina offers.

“Oh no, I can’t impose, I-uh… just wanted to come to say hi, but another night when you’re settled.” Eddie is trying so hard not to stare at both sets of tits laid out for him. The fabrics of your shirts were so thin he could see each of your nipples. And he can tell the AC is working, to his pleasure.

“Okay, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” You both smile and shut the door.

The second the door closed, you both gave one another a knowing look. He's hot.

🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️

You run into Eddie sometimes on the elevator, but you still haven’t had time to coordinate a time to have that drink.

Eddie will see you leaving and Sabrina coming, or vice versa. He figured it was a pretty sweet deal for you two to set up, each having your own space but maintaining a good friendship.

You’re both quiet and listen to decent music. At least one of you is seemingly an amazing cook because the food smells delicious each time.

He hasn’t thought much of how touchy the two of you were when he first met you. He was too focused on not getting a stiffy while meeting the both of you for the first time. He scolded himself for turning down Sabrina‘s offer for a drink, but he didn’t think he could conceal the ever-growing issue in his sweats.

It’s been a month since you and your girlfriend, Sabrina, just moved into your new apartment. It wasn’t much to boast about; sure, the wallpaper was ugly-but the rent was cheap, and so far, you haven’t seen any critters crawling around, so that was a huge plus.

You wished your schedules were more aligned, but with Sabrina’s new job and yours, life had gotten a little hectic. You’d hardly seen one another until tonight.

Tonight, you both ensured one another that it was date night. You haven’t had the chance to spend quality time with one another since you moved in, but that changes tonight. You will wine and dine and get that much-needed time together…

Sabrina and you are stumbling over your heels, trying to balance yourselves as you make your way through your front door without trying to break the kiss. It’s hot, it’s needy, and god, you missed her like this.

Her long, soft hair is tangled through your fingers as you pull her into you for more. You don't want to mess it up because she looked so pretty and spent so much time on it but that went to the wayside when she let out a soft moan.

You can feel Sabrina’s emerald green slip dress rub between your fingers as you grip her by the hip. This dress has been teasing you all night, and you can't wait to get it off of her.

Your lipsticks are smudged, but none of that matters because they’ve created a beautiful new pink colour on both of you.

Stumbling through the hallway to your shared bedroom, you land on the bed with a squeal as your girlfriend crawls on top of you.

“Oh, baby!” You let a moan a little louder than usual; you and some cocktails were starting to take effect- not that you needed alcohol to loosen up, but it definitely made you more vocal in the bedroom.

Her perfectly manicured hands trailed up your inner thighs and under your mini skirt, brushing over your bare cunt.

“No panties?” She whispered. “Naughty girl, hiding this from me all night.”

“Baby, please, I want you so bad.”

“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll take care of you.” She sinks down, her glossy wet lips make contact with your pussy and you let out a cry of pleasure.

🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖🏳️‍🌈💖💜💙♀️

Just as Eddie is ready to fall asleep, he hears a sharp squeal through the paper-thin walls of his bedroom.

Maybe she saw a spider? He almost called out to see if you're okay, but-

“Oh, baby!”

Ok, maybe not a spider…

A pang of jealousy shoots through Eddie's chest. He wanted to be with the one to be on the other side of his wall. It didn’t matter what roommate it was; he wanted both of you.

Eddie listened and waited to see if he would hear anything more, but it was silent for a few minutes. Maybe Eddie was hearing things?

“Your pretty little clit is so puffy, begging for me to suck on it.”

“Baby, please stop teasing!

Nope, he heard right.

Eddie can’t help his curiosity. He presses his ear up against the wall to listen.

“Yeah, baby, just like that! Such a good girl f’me- OH YES!”

No way this was happening right now? No way he had the two hottest neighbours on the planet, and they were fucking?

"Sabrina!"—"Good girl, y/n say my name.”

Yes. That was 100% what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Both you and your girlfriend’s filthy words and moans fill Eddie's silent room, and he can’t help but touch himself. It was impossible to not be turned on. He can picture the both of you, how one is spread out under the other- Or maybe one of you has their ass in the air and is getting eaten out from behind? Or maybe you’re pussy's are rubbing together?

The sounds mixed with the images Eddie is mustering up in his own head have him whimpering and moaning. No longer aware of the fact that since he can hear you, you can hear him, he gets lost in it as he fucks his fist.

Eddie’s moans fill your bedroom as you’re about to go down in Sabrina. She’s on all fours facing the wall where Eddie’s bed lays on the other side. She quickly crawls up closer to get a better listen.

You follow suit and kneel beside her. “He’s so hot I want him to fuck us,” you pout.

Sabrina turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face, and you can’t help but lean into her touch. She starts twirling a piece of your hair. “Oh, my baby wants that pretty boy next door? I’ll get him for you; good girls always get what they want.”

“I'LL DO IT,” Eddie immediately blurts out, not realizing you don’t know he can hear you.

“What the?” You gasp.

“Eddie?” Sabrina taps on the wall like she knocking on a door.

“Yeah,” he answered, and you giggle.

“You naughty boy, have you been spying on us?” You giggle again.

But there was no answer. You wait a few more seconds before repeating his name, but you’re both startled when you hear a knock on your front door.

You both quickly get off the bed, not bothering to put on clothes and look through the peephole to ensure it’s him.

He stood in the hallway in only his boxers hands in front of his boner, as if that would do any good at hiding it.

Sabrina opens the door and you quickly grab him and pulls him inside before he could say anything and before anyone else could see you.

“Holy shit” his bold brown eyes go wide when he sees the pair of you standing there naked in front of him.

“Did you like listening to us?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he nods his head dumbly.

“I bet you did. You’re so nice and hard.” You both look down at his cock strained against his boxers.

“You wanna play with us, Eddie?” You ask with your voice, which is so silky and sweet. Stepping towards him, your fingers trace their way down his arm moving it from where his hands cup his cock so you can graze it yourself.

“Fuck yeah” he pants.

“Come” Sabrina takes his hand and you take the other and you both lead him to your shared bedroom.

I can’t believe this is happening Eddie thought.

“Better believe it, big boy”

Oh shit, Eddie didn’t think he said that out loud.

Eddie falls on the bed and watches as you and your girlfriend crawl up into the bed and hover over top of him.

“Like two goddamn succubus,” he lets out, and you and Brina can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Your girlfriend looks to you.

You lean in to give her a kiss as Eddie watches from below. His cock still growing by the second; it was like he was watching a live prono.

Nerves suddenly flooded Eddie. What was he allowed to do and not do? Would he get to fuck either of you? Maybe just one? Maybe none? Maybe you’ll only make him watch. Not that he minded, but go, he needed to fuck at least one of you.

“I think we’ve teased Eddie long enough.” She spoke as her hand grazed up Eddie’s cock.

“I’m sure he’s more than ready for us, don’t you think?” you counter.

Eddie lay there propped up on your pillows, too stunned to speak. He didn’t even know where to start. His mouth was getting dry and he did not want to fuck this up.

“What do you?-what can I?” His hands pointed between the two of you.

“You can do whatever you want to use, Eddie.” Brina took a loose tendril of Eddie’s hair and twirled it around her finger like she did with you; all the while, you were starting to remove his checkered boxers from his hips.

“R-really?”

“Tell us what you want, sugar.” She purrs.

“I wa- I want to fuck you both.”

“Oh, tell us more” You plant a kiss on his upper thigh, moving towards his hard cock, which is painfully being neglected.

“I want to watch you fuck each other.”

“Mmmmm, that’s so hot.” Brina moaned before moving down to where you are and taking Eddie’s cock in her light grasp.

You make your way up Eddie’s body by kissing him inch by inch until your lips are latched on Eddie’s neck.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie whimpered.

“Want to taste this pussy, make sure it is real?”

“Please” he sighs.

You hear Brina moan around Eddie’s cock at your words.

It’s been a while since you had a cock in your mouth, and you wished you were the first one who got to go down on him, but the thought of sitting on Eddie’s face while your girl was swallowing him was too hot to pass up.

“Look at these nice big balls; I bet they’re filled with so much cum, just for us,” you hear her moan.

“Fuck me, you’re so hot,” Eddie brushes Sabrina’s hair out of her face.

You turn your body to face her so you can watch while you perch yourself right atop Eddie’s face.

“Yes, yes, come sit on my face,” you feel his big strong hands grip your hips and pull you down so your pussy lips meet his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You laugh as the rough stubble of his face brushes the inside of your thighs.

Eddie wanted to waste no time. He needed to prove to you that choosing him was the right decision, and he needed to prove himself so you guys would let him play again; with much thought, he drags his tongue, moving through your folds to your clit, tasting every inch of you.

A loud moan left your throat as you looked down at your girl smiling up at you.

“He that good, baby?” Brina asks as she begins to jerk Eddie off with her hand.

“Oh yes, baby.” You grind your hips into his mouth, and Eddie smacks your ass before grabbing a handful of it.

“Oh!” You let out an excited squeal.

“Oh, you like a princess?” Eddie mumbled into your pussy.”

“Mmmph, yes, Eddie,” You were already so worked up by the situation you were already about to cum.

“Come on, Eddie, make my girl cum, and we will let you fuck us both.”

That piqued Eddie’s interest as he continued to flick his hot wet tongue over your clit while slowly sticking a finger up your dripping hole.

“Oh fuck!” You fall a little bit forward on your hands, your pussy in Eddie’s face, and your ass up in the air.

"Tastes so fucking good."

“Fuck that’s so hot"

You nod in agreement, unable to form words.

With Eddie's cock so close to your mouth, you can't help yourself but take it in your hand and bring it to your lips.

"fuck me, that is so good," Eddie speaks as your mouth finds his tip and Sabrina licks his balls.

Eddie needed to make you cum now, or else he wouldn't have the chance to fuck either of you if the two of your kept it up like this.

His long, thick fingers worked inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.

"Don't stop" You pop off his dick, drool dripping down your chin as your cry out.

"He making you feel good, baby?"

"Yes!" You shake as your orgasm hits you.

Eddie doesn't stop until Sabrina pulls his face away from your pussy.

"Let me taste." She moves his head to face her and kisses Eddie while you collect yourself.

"You taste so good, baby." She pulls away and leans into you, "Want to see?" You nod your head dumbly as she leans in to kiss you, sticking her tongue in your mouth.

Her soft lips pull away, and you whine at the disconnect.

"Wanna show Eddie how we play together?"

"Mmm, yes," you nod enthusiastically.

Quickly, Eddie moves to the end of the bed and steps off so Sabrina can take his place. She lays out for you, legs spread wide, showing you just how turned on she is. Her pink pussy is glistening, just begging for attention.

"Oh, baby, you're so wet for me" You lay down in front of her with your legs propped up to show Eddie your ass.

You slowly kiss up her inner thighs, teasing and biting at her skin until you reach the apex. You kiss around her pussy lips until she's grinding and begging for you to touch her.

"Baby, baby, baby." She begs until you give in. Placing your lips onto her clit and giving it a kiss before you poke your tongue out to finally run it along your girlfriend's sweet pussy.

The view in front of Eddie was enough to make him cum on the spot. He needed to stop stroking himself, or else he would be finishing before he even got started.

He was so tempted to fuck you right now. It would be so easy to slip his cock inside your pussy that was perched on display for him, but he also needed to commit this picture to memory. Nothing would ever let him forget this moment. Watching you go down on your girl and having her cry out from the pleasure you were giving her. Your skills are so good that her hips won't stay still on the bed. You need to hold her down as your fingers enter her weeping pussy. The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, along with Eddie's heavy breaths trying to hold back. His cock was so hard it was edging on the point of pain.

"Fuck I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum." She screamed.

"Fuking cum for her," Eddie growled.

The command was so hot it made you moan into her making her cum instantly.

"Good job, baby," you praised. You crawled back up to kiss her lips, and Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel his release.

"Can I?" He looks at the both of you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

"I think he's been a good boy; he deserves a treat. What do you think?" You ask.

"Oh, he's been a very good boy." She smiles back and moves to get a condom from the drawer.

"You guys just leave those around?" Eddie chuckles in disbeliefe.

"Never know when your hot neighbour will agree to have a threesome." You pull him into a kiss. His lips are so soft and supple that another rush of arousal courses through you as his hands roam your body. He pulls away to kiss down your neck to your breast, taking a perked nipple into his mouth while he grasps the other one in his large hand.

"Her tits are perfect, aren't they?" Sabrina hands Eddie the condom.

Eddie's tongue flicks off your nipple deliciously before he moves to answer.

"Can you fuck us now?"

"Yes!" Eddie said a bit too enthusiastically, but it was endearing.

"How do you want us?"

"Doggy," he points to you, "on top." He points to Brina.

You enthusiastically turn around in anticipation of his thick hard cock stretching out out.

"Fucking perfect." Eddie rolls the condom on, but before he gets to you, he watches as Sabrina makes her way closer to you.

"You know this is her favourite position because she loves a finger up her ass." She smirks, and a rush of arousal flooods your pussy once again. You hear her spit drip from her lips, and a warm wet liquid runs down your ass to your hole before you feel her tongue flick your small hole.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck," Eddie grounded, letting his head fall back, not knowing he could get any more turned on.

"Your turn, big boy"

Eddie walks to the edge of the bed; your pussy is at the perfect height, so he runs his cock up and down your folds collecting all of your slick so he can glide in easily.

You wiggle your ass into him, already cock drunk before it even begins.

"God baby, look how desperate you are for his cock."

You nod in agreeance.

"You just can't help yourself, can you? Greedy girl." your girlfriend leaves an open mouth and kisses you, watching and waiting for Eddie to enter you. She loves watching your pussy open up while taking cock, whether that be real or dildo.

"She is, isn't she" Eddie agrees while kneading your ass as he finally slips his cock into you.

A feral noise leaves your throat as Eddie's cock stretches you out.

Nothing occupied your mind other than how Eddie was making you feel now. His delicious cock, pumped in and out and out, not letting up.

"Fuck right there!"

"I think you found her special spot," Sabrina smirks before taking her fingers in her mouth to wet them. Too consumed to listen to what they were saying, your focus on only the feeling and when it intensifies because Brina's fingers enter your ass, you can't help but cry out again.

"Fuck!"

“Such a good girl. Take that cock, baby.” Sabrina praises as her fingers pump in and out of your ass.

The combination of Eddie's cock and her fingers made you feel so full. Nothing mattered other than how you were feeling.

"More" you cry.

"Oh, she is greedy." Eddie's hips slap into you at a more frivolous pace.

His balls hit your clit with every thrust until, out of nowhere, you feel a vibrator on your clit. She must have gotten it out while getting the condom, but you hadn't noticed or cared because it was just the thing to bring you over the edge.

"I'm going to cum!" you cry.

Not even a minute with the vibrator to your clit, and your pussy was clamping down hard on Eddie. It was like a tidal wave crashed into you; never had you cum this hard before. Your body shakes so hard under their touch that your arms and legs give out, and you collapse face down on the bed.

Mindless giggles leave your lungs as you ride out your high.

"Fuck did we break her?" Eddie looks at Sabrina.

"No, she's more than good. Never had cock that good, though." She smirked, and Eddie shuffled onto his back so she could get ready to be on top of him.

Exiting your daze, you see your girl already mounted on Eddie- and what a sight to see. A tit in his mouth as she bounces on his cock.

"God, that's so hot," you moan, and you sit up.

"Come here, princess," Eddie commands.

You obey and crawl your way over.

"Kiss," he instructs.

You lean into Sabrina, and she willingly takes your open-mouth kiss. Your tongues fight for dominance against one another, your lipgloss and hers are rubbed off, and your lips are swollen with a hint of colour flushed through them.

“Oh fuck I’m going to cum.” She pulls away.

"You're doing such a good job bouncing on his cock, baby," you praise before pressing your lips to hers once again.

“Mmmmm fuck her good; she’s been such a good girl she deserves to cum. Don’t you think Eddie?”

“Yes, she has,” he agrees while giving his ass a slap. “Fuck, you’re just my bunny, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she nodded her head. You can tell she’s so close, and you want her to experience cuming in Eddie stock just as you did.

“Come on baby, cum in his cock like I know you can.” You slip your hand between where she and Eddie connect to rub her clit, knowing it’s that little extra boost that will send her over the edge.

A loud cry leaves her lungs, and you know she’s cuming and cuming hard.

“Oh, good job, baby.” You purr before leaning in to kiss her neck.

“Fuck!” Eddie screams out, finally letting go as he allows himself release into the condom.

“Oh, Eddie, you did such a good job for us.” You praise sticking his hair out of his face before taking his lips into yours.

Eddie lay there in a daze as you helped Sabrina off his cock.

“Baby, did we break him?” You giggle.

“I think he’s reprogramming his brain,” she laughs.

“Nothing in my life will ever top this moment,” Eddie admits breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, wanna bet?” Sabrina challenged.

“You mean? You wanna do that again?”

“Not now, silly. I don’t think any of us would survive. But who said this has to be a one-time thing?”

“Best neighbours ever,” Eddie fist pumps.

After you all catch your breath, Eddie gets up and finds his boxers to go home.

“Wait, where are you going?" You pout.

“Uh, I thought?” He points to the door.

“Stay. Please?” Brina lifts up the blankets to invite him to sleep between the two of you.

“Really?” His eyes go wide with disbelief.

You both nod your heads enthusiastically.

“It will be like a sleepover!” You clap.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie scrambled back to the bed between you. No one would ever believe him, but he will take everything to his advantage out of this new and exciting situation.

“We really like you, Eddie.” You smile and snuggle into his side.

“I really like you guys, too.” Eddie falls asleep soundly, smiling, and without a care in the world.

Tags: @strangerstilinski @voyeurmunson @espressomunson @littlexdeaths @lokis-army-77 @andvys @taintedcigs

@tlclick73 @penguinsandpotterheads @nailbatanddungeon @hellfiremunsonn @paybacksawitch @jamdoughnutmagician

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x female character #Eddie Munson x queer!reader #Eddie Munson x bisexual!reader #Eddie Munson x pansexual!reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson imagine #happy pride 🌈

600 notes · View notes