#and a p light human boi

[whore-ibly-hot]

"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

[localkiss]

Heavenly sin

virgin pastor's son!leon kennedy x virgin fem!reader

cw: guilt!! p in v, porn watching (has some "intense" sex ig??), needy sex, virginity loss, creampies, thinking about god during sex, humping (dry at one point), oral (f receiving), awkwardness, CHECK-INS!!!, dirty talk, begging, soft ish dom!leon, pet names, mentions of daddy kink but only once, pregnancy mentioned a couple times, Leon's a sweetheart, goofy ending, rough ish treatment only once, confessions!!

wc: 6k...🧍🏻‍♀️

note: barely proof read and I don't know shit about church or anything like that... Lmk if I missed any tags! Also inspired by @moolvn's bot!

@valkyrurr @rigorwhoring @marymustdie @tatumrileyslover @frostywintersnow @queenofstresss haii yall ! :3

It's around 10 in the morning, and you're dressed in a flowy black dress with flower patterns on it. Perfect for church and for this wonderful spring weather. Pulling your hair back into a low ponytail, you get out of your parents car. They have already gone inside the church.

Walking briskly to the entrance, you take note of the flowers that are planted on each side that're beginning to bloom in the glowy sunlight. You make it in time to sit next to your parents before the prayer begins.

You bow your head and begin to listen to it. Soft shuffling is heard, and then there's a warmth on your right side, as if a heater were turned on.

Peaking out of your right eye, you see the pastor's son, Leon. Dressed in dark wash jeans and a white button up. He tilts his head towards you and smiles, mouthing, "Hello."

You smile and shake your head, closing your eyes to listen in on his father recite a prayer, so that the Holy Spirit will help us all understand God's words.

Despite trying to listen to him preach, your mind wanders off to the boy next to you. How his muscles ripple underneath his shirts. (which are always fitting for him. Like how?) And the way his beautiful oceanic eyes shine with purity. Especially when he's preaching about how God is constantly saving and bettering him and how important he truly is in his life. The way his brown hair flows in the wind and how it falls into his eye whenever he looks down.

It's all beautiful to you. You'd rather worship Leon than God. Would it be a sin to worship man instead of the Lord? Probably.

Every time you spoke with Leon, you felt dirty. You were filled with these disgusting, sinful feelings. You were afraid of it rubbing off on him and getting into trouble. Getting called the devil. Shunned and kicked out of the house for having feelings you didn't know how to fucking handle.

After all, you were only human. One with needs, thoughts, feelings, and insatiable cravings for a certain man beside you.

Once the pastor stops the prayer, everything else goes by quickly. You try not to stare at Leon while his father is reading aloud hymns. But it's impossible.

He catches your eye and flashes you a boyish smile. You look away. It's quite embarrassing to have been caught staring at him. You couldn't help it.

A couple hours later, the service ends. You get up and stretch your limbs, ready to leave.

A large hand grabs onto your forearm. Warmth surges through your veins, all the way up to your midsection.

Turning your head, you see that it's Leon. 

He lets go of you with a smile. "Are you busy today? I was wondering if you'd like to come over."

Biting your lip, you think for a moment. Looking over at your parents, they give you a nod of approval.

"I'm free. I can come over today." 

Both of you walk towards the exit, and he opens the door like a gentleman. You mutter a small "thank you" and step outside. 

The cool, light breeze washes over your body like a cold shower. It feels refreshing after being in a stuffy room for more than an hour. Breathing it in and letting it out, you turn towards Leon.

He squints at you with a small smile, motioning to follow him. You oblige, putting your hands on the bottom of your dress and bunching up the fabric so that it doesn't fly up.

By the time you guys make it to his house, your feet are dying in the black flats you're wearing. Rubbed raw on your heels by your pinky and big toes.

You sigh in relief as you enter his house, slipping your shoes off by the door.

The both of you walk into the kitchen and grab a cup of water. Heading upstairs to his room. You try to push down the nerves and excitement bubbling in your guts, but it's so hard. 

All you guys ever do is read, listen to the radio, and talk about your guys's jobs. Not all exciting, but laying in his bed and being so close to him is what gets your panties soaked. Maybe you are the devil's spawn. Getting aroused by just being in Leon's vicinity. It's bad. Real bad.

He opens his door and walks in, laying down on his plush queen-sized bed. His hair falls to the sides of his face as he closes his eyes. Breathing in deeply and then exhaling slowly.

You sit on the bed, eyeing him up while his eyes are closed. Noticing the way his veins on his hands are popping out, the small little freckles that paint his face and neck, and the way his lips look so velvety.

Wondering what it would feel like between your legs, your calves, and your neck. You shouldn't be thinking about him like this. It's wrong. But it feels so right.

"So, uh, what are we going to do?" You mutter quietly, tearing your gaze away from the white man beside you.

"I thought that we could just hang out." 

"Okay." You scratch your head for a moment, looking at one of the posters on his wall. It's a poster for The Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time. It's probably one of the only games his parents approve of. 

"Actually, hold on." He sits up slowly and begins to walk towards his desk, fishing something out. He holds up a CD with a grin. "I found this lying around on the bookstore floor. I thought that we could check it out."

Motioning with a nod of his head towards his computer. The thick monitor has the circular silver Dell logo on it at the bottom. Paired with his grey and black mouse.

Popping it into his PC as it whirrs on, you snatch his swiveling chair, making him sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair next to it. Maybe you should get a new best friend, thinking about how you come over so much that he has gotten another chair just in case you guys get on his computer.

You take over and open the Windows Media Player, then double-click on the CD's name. Spice it up in the bedroom! What an odd name. 

Turning up the volume on his mini speakers that're alongside his monitor as you wait for the media to load.

A woman and a man appear in the frame, with a messy bed behind them. She's hardly wearing any clothing, only her undergarments and stockings are on her figure. Meanwhile, the man is only dressed in his briefs.

You feel your cheeks burn red hot, swallowing thickly at the video. Afraid of what's going to happen next and afraid of looking at Leon after this surprise of a CD, you continue to look straight ahead.

They don't even introduce themselves, but they say one thing: "Here's how to spice things up in the bedroom. Watch and learn."

Shifting in the cushiony chair, you unconsciously grab onto the armrests.

The next part shows the woman lying down with her legs spread open. The man walks into the frame and sits on the floor next to the end of the bed. Putting his face in between her legs, he kisses her thighs. Trailing up to the bend of her knees and then to her ankles. Repeating the same for her other leg. 

Then he begins to leave small bite marks and bruises on her inner thighs. With each of them, her hips jump, and small moans leave her lips.  

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your most sacred parts ache with need. Hoping Leon doesn't notice it. 

But he did, just didn't want to point it out and embarrass the both of you even more than you guys already are. He's always staring at you subtly. He's not doing any better on his end, cock filling out in his jeans, begging to be freed from its confinement.

He's just thinking about the kind of noises you'd make if he kissed you there. But he shouldn't think about that. His heart sinks into his stomach, feeling guilty for even having those sorts of thoughts about you from time to time. He wanted to baptize himself again and again until those thoughts clouded him no more.

Leon always had to shower in cold water to make all of the pent-up need go away from his dick. He was afraid to touch himself. Especially to the thought of you. He thought you didn't deserve to be sexualized. How wrong it is to even imagine your lips on his! How soft and plush you'd be against his body.

Feeling like the devil has made its way into both of your bodies. Lust coats both of your frontal lobes, coaxing you into continuing to watch this sinful CD. 

The man begins to lick and kiss her panties which makes her noises grow louder and breathier. You hope to God that his parents don't come home anytime soon.  

He slips her panties off, and her precious parts are exposed to the camera. Leon makes a small gasping sound, and you snap your head towards him.  

"Leon, I.. I don't know if we should watch this. This is... wrong. I feel dirty, Leon." You search his eyes, hoping he'll agree, but he just blinks slowly at you.  

"I-I think we should continue. Don't act like this doesn't pique your interest," he mutters back. His eyes are slowly beginning to darken. 

Turning your focus on the screen, you hear him noisily slurping away between her thighs. The woman begins to get louder, and her fingers slot through his hair and pull him closer.  

She yells out, "I'm cumming!" And soon her legs squeezed shut on his head, her body convulsing and lunging forward to curl in on itself.  

"Fuck baby, that was so hot," He comes up and kisses her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and flipping her over onto her stomach. Fumbling with his black briefs, tugging them down and stepping out of them.  

You squirm uncomfortably, not sure if you can handle seeing a random man naked. But you gulp down the bile crawling up your throat, mixed in with sickening guilt.  

His cock stands up to attention, the tip as red as a tomato. A patch of hair surrounds it, leading down between his legs. He strokes it a couple of times, lolling his head back with a loud groan.  

"You ready, slut?" Tapping himself against her folds. 

"Y-Yes sir, I'm ready." The woman frantically nods and pushes up on her elbows, watching him sink into her hole.  

He grips her hair as soon as he's fully sheathed inside, pulling her towards him. Making her see how they're connected. You bite your lip as you watch this couple go at it for about five minutes. Watching them change positions and get louder and louder with each minute that passes by.  

He puts his hand on her throat and slaps her face, breasts, ass, and privates. It all makes you feel fuzzy inside, like you drank too much alcohol. The world is slowly starting to spin, with all thoughts going straight down between your thighs.  

But the way he talks to her is what really gets you.  

"You like that slut? Fuckin' taking daddy's cock so well, fuck."  

"Good girl. I know you can take it." 

"Yeah, cum on me, baby, squeeze this fat dick."  

"Stupid fucking whore, practically crying for me to creampie this tight little pussy. Isn't that right, baby? God, you know you want my cum stuffed in you."  

Her punched-out moans—the way she's clawing at the bed and sometimes at him—is what gets Leon excited. The way she can't even say anything remotely coherent to the man gets him so hard, it fucking hurts. Leon's boxers are practically stuck to his cock. 

Leon's hand drifts towards his groin, shifting it so it doesn't press against the zipper of his jeans. He lets out a soft hiss, putting a hand to his mouth as he slumps back against the wooden chair. Leaning onto the left armrest.  

Your ears pick up on Leon's strained noise, and you pull your knees up to your chest, breathing heavily between them. It's almost over, you think to yourself. Just a couple more minutes, and we can do something else. Forget about this, and maybe read the Bible to cleanse our minds.  

The guy on the screen pulls her up so her back is flushed against his chest, his arm wrapped around her throat to keep her there. Her body is shaking uncontrollably, and he groans deeply, thrusting a couple more times before he comes to a halt.  

"Fuck, baby girl, fuck. Take it. Mmhh, I want to get you pregnant so bad. Gonna suck on those fat tits until they're squirting milk into my mouth. I'm gonna love seeing you so swollen and full of my seed. God damn."  

That's it. He pulls out of her, and you can vaguely see a white liquid pooling out of her and onto the bed. Her body is so red and bruised. It makes you take a deep breath.  

By clicking out of it, you eject the disk and put it on the desk. Quickly shutting down his PC.  

Both of you sit there in silence for a little while. Afraid to look at one another.  

The air is so thick and hot, as if someone turned a heater on. It would make sense, as both of you have red faces and sweaty palms.  

Leon's the first one to clear his throat and shift in his seat. "So, um. What did we watch?"  

"For heavens sake, we just watched two people make love, Leon!" You whisper-yell at him, looking directly into his eyes.  

He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and looks to the side, clearly embarrassed. "Right."  

You get up and flop onto his bed, face first. The coolness of his sheets is washing over you like an ice pack. 

Leon sits next to you, practically burning his gaze on your thighs. Lost in thought of the possibility of doing something like what you both saw just mere moments ago. His hips are bucking upwards, seeking relief. Looking like a damn fool for humping the air.  

"Do you think that felt good? Would God like...allow them to seek pleasure like that?" You mumble into the bed.  

"I think so, but I don't know if God would be happy if they were to continue..without repenting for their sins and asking for forgiveness."  

Yeah, you figured he would respond like that.

"I feel gross, Leon."  

"Me too."  

You turn on your side and look him up and down slowly. "Are you... aroused?" 

Leon gulps and tilts down to meet your gaze with a small nod.  

"Me too." Your voice is soft and hushed. Rubbing your thighs together for some relief.  

At this point, you don't even care. God this. God that. Those women at the church don't seem to care when they get pregnant. They just pray and repent for their sins and move on with their day like nothing happened. So, God doesn't fucking care if you have intercourse or not. So long as you ask for forgiveness.  

His baby blues drop to your lips and back up, licking his own lips. Then, he leans down and boxes you between his firm body and the plush bed.  

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him tremble above you. Heart thumping wildly in your ears, wondering if he can hear it too.  

Unconsciously, your legs spread open to accommodate his hips. He shifts his weight nervously, his groin settling on top of yours.  

Both of you moan and buck your hips towards one another, wanting more. Becoming insatiable beasts filled only with lust and need. Logic? God? Who needs that when you have horniness on the brain?  

Leon groans and buries his face in your neck, panting hotly against your skin as he begins to dry hump you. "Please... It-It hurts. I'm sorry." He stops himself from rambling on, nosing up to your earlobe.  

"Leon, it feels really good. Don't—don't stop, please." 

His hips stutter, and he lets out a soft whimper, touching his forehead to yours. "May I... may I do what the video showed, to you?"  

"Yes," you say as you connect your lips to his, tangling your hands into his thick locks of brown hair. Lightly pulling on it, earning you a groan into your mouth and a thrust against your clothed mound. 

Tongues uniting sloppily, moans spewing out, and desire floating in the air. A perfect recipe for disaster. 

He sits up on his knees, his eyes blown out, his lips red and glossy with spit. How can he get even prettier? It's not fair. It really isn't. God really gave him the best of the best, honestly.  

Leon quickly made work of his button-up, throwing it across the room. His wife beater is the only article of clothing shielding you from seeing his chest and abdomen. What a shame. Though you do see a small silver chain, most likely it is his cross that he always wears, no matter what.  

Breathing out of his mouth like his nose is fucking clogged, he hesitantly reaches up to the hem of your dress. "May I?" He whispers, pushing it up to where your shorts stop at your waist.  

You nod, your hips lifting up to help him get rid of your dress. It soon hits the floor next to his shirt. Immediately feeling embarrassed, you cover your black bra with your hands.  

Leon just stares in awe, his hands slowly trailing up your sides and tracing every contour and bend in your body.  

"So beautiful," he mumbles. His thumb feels nice and is also ticklish where the sun doesn't see your body. He carefully removes your arms away from your bosom, kissing the inner parts of your wrists and making eye contact with you for the entirety of this undressing. 

You gasp as he kisses down to your clavicles, making sure to take his time mapping out your figure with his lips now. Dipping down to your cleavage, his hands grab ahold of your waist, thumbs rubbing against the wire of your bra.  

Leon presses his lips across your entire chest, making your skin buzz and your soul leave your body. 

Never in your life would you have imagined Leon doing this to you in his own bed.  

He fumbles with pulling your cups down, trying to get rid of the bra. "Can you, um.. take this off?"  

You lean forward and unclip it, letting it fall forward into your lap. Getting your arms out of the straps, you are now topless in front of him. Topless in front of someone for the first time ever.  

God is getting ready to punish the both of you for sinning, and you know it. Closing your eyes tightly for a few moments as you try to battle with continuing or just leaving Leon to deal with his own battle. That would be just mean. And if you were going to sin, why not together?  

Gulping down the acid that clawed its way up your pipes once more, you shake off the guilt as much as you can. Opening your eyes, you see Leon getting closer to your chest. Ready to plant his love on them.  

He slowly kisses around your areolas, nosing his way from breast to breast. You let out a nervous giggle as he makes eye contact with you as best he can.  

Finally making contact with your nipples, he dips his tongue out and swirls around it. Pulling away with a soft 'pop', you card your fingers through his hair.  

"Did that feel good?"  

"Yeah, it felt really nice." You give him a shy smile, and he returns it.  

Leon does the same to the other one before leaning back and admiring you once more. "You are honestly beautiful." 

Covering your face with your arms, you push him with your knee, mumbling an embarrassed "thank you." You still have your manners, even for being the devil's best friend.  

Some shuffling, and you peek through your arms and see he's taking off his white wife beater. You bite your lip and shift to your haunches, running your hands up his abdomen. Mesmerized by the way his muscles tense under your fingertips, dipping down to a small patch of hair trailing down beneath his jeans.  

Smiling up at him, you wish to return the favor. Putting your lips near the belt of his pants, kissing each of his hip bones softly. His body twitches towards you, and he lets out a broken moan, putting his hands on your shoulders. You decide to be experimental and graze your teeth all the way up his stomach, stopping at his chest. Leon's sounds are going straight down south; you'll be surprised if your shorts aren't completely wet by now too. 

"Can I?" You grab ahold of the button on his jeans, toying with it. Asking him for permission to undress him as well. He shakes his head, yes, and you immediately start undoing his fly. With a soft gasp, you see his bulge with a wet spot near the tip, staining his dark blue boxers. You continue to tug his pants down to his thighs so he can do the rest himself.  

Leon's pants join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You shimmy your shorts and tights off. Both of you dressed in your undergarments.  

You lay back, eyes on his cross necklace, hoping that God will accept you both as you are after this experience. Making love before marriage isn't acceptable, and you've been told your bodies are sacred temples and to not let anyone in or touch you inappropriately. Both of you would be shunned, and God knows what else would happen. 

Leon begins to kiss his way down to your ankles and back up between your thighs. Slowly breathing in the scent of you. Pressing a few on your clothed mound, making you squirm, your thighs daring to close on his head. He gently pushes them away and up as he leaves little love bites where your legs connect to your most sacred spot. 

Moaning softly, you cover your mouth. Your eyes dare to roll back into your head as you try and watch Leon explore your features before he removes the last article of clothing, keeping him away from seeing you completely bare. He moans into your panties, kitten-licking to taste your arousal. He is doing his best to try and copy the video from earlier. 

"Please, Leon.." you whine, your hips pushing against his face, aching for more.

Leon nods his head and nuzzles against you, his nose stimulating you even further. He pulls away to remove your panties to dive back in. 

Getting messy with it, he drools onto your folds, pressing open-mouth kisses all over. Paying attention to where you moan and squirm the most. 

He dips his tongue down into your pulsating hole and groans, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. "Tastes s'good, baby," he continues to ravage your poor, sensitive pussy, iron grip, keeping your thighs open. 

You squeak and grab ahold of his hair, trying to push him away as you feel an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout your body. "Leon! Wait, wait, I-I—" 

Leon moves his mouth up to your little pearl and begins to suck and nibble on it. That's what truly sends you over the edge. 

Back bowing, legs shaking, head thrown back with your mouth open in a silent scream. You can't even feel your lower half; pins and needles are crawling down your legs and into your feet. You're sure your legs snapped shut on his head, as you feel him so much more now. 

Soon you come back into reality with Leon hovering over you, his dick freed from its prison, poking your thigh. "You okay? Did that feel good, my love?" It's so sweet how he's checking in with you after giving you the best time of your life! 

"Y-Yeah," you breathe out heavily, pulling him closer by his silver cross. Toying with it between your fingertips. "That felt amazing. Thank you." 

Giving him a soft, sensual kiss. Tasting a bitter liquid on his lips. He chases you as soon as you part, dipping his tongue between your lips and asking for more. You oblige, and his thick muscle is invading your cavern, touching each tooth and swirling around your own tongue. It's turning hot and heavy as he presses his hips into yours, putting weight on you. 

He starts humping your leg, his cock pulsating and leaking transparent sticky fluids on your skin. He is moaning and panting into your mouth as he cups your breasts. Slowly pulling away as he takes you in once more, completely infatuated with you, it seems. And it also seems the feeling is reciprocated by yours truly. 

"Can I put it in, please?" Leon grabs ahold of his dick and clumsily strokes it over your cunt. His body is stuttering forward, and his grip on your breast is tightening just slightly. 

Biting your swollen bottom lip, you nod slowly. Bracing yourself for the intrusion down there. It doesn't even look like he'll fit inside of you; you're afraid he's going to somehow rip you apart down there. But you push down the fear with a shaky sigh. 

"Just, um.. let me know if it hurts," he swipes through your folds a few times before sinking into you gradually. 

Your body tenses up, and you grab hold of his hand, squeezing it as you let out high pitched breathy whimpers. Squeezing your eyes shut as you try to get used to his size. You can't believe he's taking your virginity. 

"W-wait, stop, stop, please... It hurts." You feel tears forming in your eyes, and Leon immediately halts. 

Pressing chaste kisses to your eyes and one on your lips, his body bucks forward. With a groan, he murmurs, "God damn. I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby."

Your pussy flutters around his length, and you breathe in and out, getting used to him. Canting your hips up to get more of him on your terms, you roll your hips with a gasp and say, "Leon."

He takes that as a sign to push more of himself into you, filling you to the brim. Shifting to lay down on his forearms, next to your head, you wrap your legs around his waist. Your nails dig lightly into his back, eliciting a low growl from him as he tries to calm himself down. Too aroused with the feeling of you wrapped around his shaft so tightly that he can't even begin to think properly. 

Taking a quick breather so that he doesn't accidentally fall on top of you. Lazily humping against you, stimulating your clitoral area while being so goddamn full of him. 

"Baby, god," Leon starts to clumsily push in and out of your sopping heat. Barely even disconnecting himself from you. If anything, he doesn't ever want to pull out of you. You feel too good; it would greatly upset him to stop now. 

It feels so intimate as he continues to hold your hand, sloppily kissing you as his dick slowly penetrates you deeper and deeper. Swallowing each other's noises, afraid of getting caught by his parents, is always lingering in the back of your mind. 

"Mmnn, you're so tight, it's hard to move." Leon drops his forehead onto yours, staring at you intensely. His eyes are soft yet lustful, carrying love in them, you see. 

Maybe you just hope that he loves you because you've loved him all your life. Having known him since you were 4 and he was 6, you couldn't have asked for anyone else to take your virginity but him. Even though he's the pastor's son. 

"I love you," you can't help but blurt out. Biting your lip as he speeds up his movements for a few thrusts before going back to his lazy ones. 

"You mean it?" He pants heavily into your mouth, feeling you nod your head against his. "I love you too. God, I really, really do. I promise, baby." 

With those heartfelt (sort of) confessions, he begins to pick up his pace.

Growling softly when you clench around him or make squeaky noises that can't be discerned by a whimper or a moan. He loves you and all your little noises. The freckles that paint your body. The way your body curves and your stretch marks—everything about you is so gorgeous to him. He wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. He's tried giving you signs and hints that he wants to be your boyfriend, but he is always too scared to say it outright. But now he's glad about how things turned out. Including giving you his virginity.

You claw at his chest, grabbing ahold of his necklace as he fucks you harder. Looking down at his member, you see a white ring around his base. Throwing your head back into his pillows, you feel another orgasm creeping up your body. 

"I'm gonna—it's gonna happen again, Leon, mmphh," you whine out as your legs try to close up, only to be blocked by his body. 

Leon lets out a pained whimper, and then all of a sudden he grips onto your hair and starts to gently bite under your jawline next to your earlobe. It's syrupy and slow this time; your mind goes fuzzy and blank. No thoughts, just Leon. And his manhood bumps into your cervix. 

"Please, let me... inside—can I?" His words are all jumbled up, and you can't help but say yes. 

He speeds up even more, which seems impossible, but it really isn't. It has your chest bouncing with each thrust, and soft cries are leaving your lips. He keeps on holding onto your hair and hand, bringing your face up to meet him halfway to make out with you. Drooling into your mouth and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. With each thrust, his necklace bumps into your neck. 

Hips stuttering into yours, he almost collapses onto your figure. Threatening to bury you into his mattress as he lazily thrusts a couple more times.

A hot liquid squirts into your womb, and Leon lets out a strained moan, dropping his head into your neck. Slowly letting go of your hair and letting your scalp relax after such harsh treatment. Your cunt clenches around him tightly. 

His hips continue to jerk into yours, almost making sure his cum stays inside of you. It's like his body already knows what to do after watching one video of people making love. 

Leon presses soft kisses up to your temple before getting off of you. Shifting back to his haunches, he hesitantly pulls out of your hole. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing, his seed slowly drips out of your hole. His dick jumps, hitting his toned stomach, almost ready to jump back into action for round two. 

"Baby, just so beautiful. I love you." 

You can't help but giggle at that, making more of the sticky white liquid squirt out of your hole and onto his sheets. He quickly notices that and grabs a few tissues to wipe it off, leaving you and himself clean. 

"I love you too, pretty boy," you sigh deeply, truly enamored with the way Leon just is. He's so sweet without even trying. 

You go to sit up and grab your undergarments, but your legs are too shaky to even stand up, and you almost fall over. Leon maneuvers you back onto his bed and fetches it all for you. Getting himself dressed as well. 

Hell, maybe it wasn't so bad to become a sinner. It was definitely a heavenly sin, that's for sure. 

You two stare at each other, lips swollen red, eyes swallowed by the black and flushed pink faces. Your hands interlocked as you slowly began to kiss. But this time, it's much sweeter and softer. No rush to feel skin on skin; just relaxing in the now. 

"What're we going to do?" Mumbling into the kiss, you pull away. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You.. you did it inside of me. What if I get pregnant? I can't be a mother right now, Leon," you frown, looking down at your stomach. 

"I'll figure it out, okay? And—And if you do end up carrying my child, I'll be there. I'm not just going to leave you."

And with that, your worries washed away, nodding alongside his words as if they were God's words. In a way, he is God to you. Constantly saving you, bettering you, loving you unconditionally, and listening to you. You'd get on your knees any day for Leon. He'd just have to say the word, and you'd do it. 

"Was I too rough? Are you hurt anywhere?" He presses a few chaste kisses on your forehead and temple. 

"No, but I am hurting... down there. It feels a little sore. But everything else is fine." You give him a thumbs-up with a goofy grin. He returns the silly smile, nuzzling your jawline. 

"I can see if there's any ibuprofen; I'll be right back, okay?" 

Shortly, he returns with two pills and sets them in your palm, bringing your water over to you. You take them with a gulp of water. 

"I think I've got to use the restroom as well. I'll be back." You let out a breath and walked into the bathroom across the hall. Doing your business, flushing, and then washing your hands before returning back to him. 

Joining him on his bed, under the covers, to snuggle up close to him. 

"You're so warm. I love it." 

"I'm glad you do, sweetheart." 

You both end up talking for a few more hours about work, your friends, hobbies, and, lastly, how long you've liked one another. 

"Wait, wait, wait," you giggle and lay on your elbows, resting your head in your palm. "You've liked me ever since elementary school? Why haven't you told me?" 

"I tried. I tried giving you hints; I even brought you a flower that one time, remember? And, like, I always let you borrow my shirts and sweaters. I thought that was enough, and you saw that, and, uh, just didn't like me back." Leon rolls his eyes and pulls you into his arms. Attacking you with kisses on your ear and behind it.

You squeal and squirm in his grasp, letting out a breathy, "Okay, okay! I see it now!" 

"What about you?" 

"Since middle school. Remember the time on Valentine's Day when I gave you like all my candies? And then, when we did bingo at church, I gave you my prize and said I didn't want it. Yeah, well... I wanted it, but I gave it to you instead." 

"So cute. I love you, baby bug," he mumbles into your neck. 

"I love you too, handsome," you answer into his shoulder. 

It is safe to say that you both fell asleep holding onto each other. With smiles on your faces. You both are dreaming of the day that you both get married and have the whole white picket fence, dog, children, and everything in between.

You'd risk your relationship with God again if it meant that you'd be with Leon forever.

He would absolutely risk being called a devil's spawn if it meant that he'd get to be your lover forever. 

Maybe God would forgive you if you decided to sin again and again. As long as you are happy, it doesn't matter what happens. If and only if, you have Leon, the pastor's son, in your arms, everything will be alright.

[bunnywonyo]

I THINK I READ THE WRONG PINOCCHIO

g!p puppet yujin x toy maker’s daughter! reader

synopsis: classic puppet becomes a human but instead of going out to get swallowed by a whale, this puppet fuck their toy maker’s daughter.

word count: 1.8k

tags: agalmatophilia, smut

growing up with your father, you grew to also love the toys he made. from the wooden dolls to the mini animal sculptures that he himself carved. but your favorite type of toys that your father has made were the puppets.

the puppets, there was something about them that has drawn you. it might be their realistic faces or their names or even the fact that they kept you company whenever your father goes out of town to buy toy making materials. this day is another one of those occasions when your father will be gone for a few days to buy materials.

“it won’t take long y/n, i’ll be back in no time. now you be careful here, ok? you know where our food is kept right? i also asked our neighbors to occasionally check up on you, if you run into any trouble just yell for them. also, don’t for to lock the— ”

“i know dad, we go through this every two months since i can remember, i’m already used to it by now.”

“i know, but your old man just can’t help himself. i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“It’s ok dad besides like you said the neighbors are here plus the puppets keep me company!”

"alright, but promise me you'll be careful," he added, hugging you tightly before grabbing his travel bag.

"i promise, dad," you said with a smile, hoping to reassure him. You slammed the door behind him and turned to face the room full of his works.

you approached the shelf, where the puppets were carefully placed, each with its own unique personality. there was wonyoung, the elegant princess; kazuha, the graceful ballerina; and giselle, the trendy fashionista. however, one puppet struck you the most: yujin, a mysterious puppet with hauntingly gorgeous eyes and a face that was both feminine and masculine.

yujin was by far your favorite among the countless puppets that your father has created. the way her face was sculpted to perfection, those dark brown eyes that seem to be alive, and the way her skin looks so soft despite being made of wood. her unexpected appendage down there was also a bonus(your father explained that yujin was supposed to be a boy but later changed his decision).

you reached out and picked up yujin, feeling a sense of comfort rush over you while holding her in your hands.

as the day passed by, you always had yujin by your side. whether it was to feed the chickens or to bring in the clothes that were set to dry. there was something about her that drew you in, something that, unlike everyone else, gave you the impression that you in some way, were understood.

before long, darkness fell and you had to remain indoors with your puppet companion, even though you have kind neighbors all around you, you never know when danger is around.

after making sure that you’ve locked all possible entrances, you’ve decided to light a few candles and turned on the kitchen light, creating a cozy, warm atmosphere. you then decided to cook some warm vegetable soup. the comforting aroma soon spread out through the whole house making you hum in delight.

once in a while you would glance at yujin who you propped by the dining table. the gentle flicker of the candles danced across yujin's face, giving the puppet an almost lifelike appearance. time passed by and you were soon done cooking. you prepped up the table and got all the necessary utensils to finally eat.

“yujin!! dinner’s ready!” you yelled even though you knew she was a puppet.

‘damn i must be going crazy’

sitting down, you took a sip of the soup, moaning in delight at the taste.

“you know yujin,” you started. “with you here, it doesn’t really feel lonely at all”

the puppet, unresponsive, just sat there yet her wooden eyes somehow looked like they were focused and listening intently to you.

shaking your head, you continued “i wish you were alive yuj, oh the stories i could tell you and the things we could do together.”

“you could walk independently, you could taste my cooking, you could……you could feel love—my love” you lighty ranted

but what you didn’t know was this simple wish of yours could lead to you getting any sleep at all tonight wink wink

after finishing dinner, you cleaned up the dining room and kitchen and also put away the leftovers. you did your nightly routines before putting yujin beside you in your bed.

“goodnight yuj” you say before kissing her on the lips and turning off the lights. you glanced at her one more time before closing your eyes as your consciousness drifts off to dreamland

“y/n”

“psst y/n”

“y/n wake up”

rubbing your eyes, you groaned in annoyance as your sweet slumber was interrupted.

“who is it? what happened? is the kitchen burning?” you asked but you were only answered by the sound of someone giggling.

“who the—WHAT THE FUCK!” you began to talk, but your words were cut short when you lost your balance.

falling off the bed with a bang, you landed on the floor in a tangle of bedding and limb. the force of the fall jolted you completely awake, and you sat up, scratching your head and looking around in confusion. as you struggled to get your bearings, you noticed Yujin sitting up on the bed, her eyes wide with concern. except yujin was no longer a puppet; she was fully alive, with human-like features and a concerned look.

"are you okay?" yujin asked, her voice quiet but filled with concern.

you blinked, trying to fully take in what you were seeing. "yujin? how... how are you alive?" you gasped, looking at her with surprise.

yujin looked down at herself, then back at you, equally bewildered. "i don't know," she said, shaking her head slightly. "one moment i was a puppet, and the next... i'm like this."

you stood up still trying to take in the whole situation when she spoke up again

“y/n i think it might be the kiss” she said

“the kiss?” you repeat feeling your cheeks flush as you remembered what you did a while ago

“yeah the kiss, it might’ve been some kind of magic” she explained while standing up, her tall figure towering over you.

as everything sank in, you realized how close yujin was standing in front of you. you stared at her and you could see her staring back at you. slowly, like a dream, you both leaned in. your breaths mingled, your eyes locked, and suddenly, as if driven by an invisible force, your lips touched in a soft, long kiss. it was delicate at first, but soon turned rough.

yujin placed her hands on your shoulders and deepened the kiss, her lips soft and warm on yours. your heart raced in your chest, and you felt yourself melting into the moment. before you knew it, yujin has already pushed you back to your bed, her body hovering over you.

the two of you locking lips for a while before you broke the kiss “i can’t believe this is real,” you gasped “i’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time now.”

yujin smirks, hands squeezing your ass before replying, “me too princess, ever since i became conscious.”

you blush at the nickname before feeling something hard press against your thigh.

“yujin is this?..........” you trailed off, pertaining to the ‘thing’ poking your thigh.

“it’s exactly what you think it is princess” her smirk still there, her hand now rubbing your crotch. “i know you want this too.”

“let me take care of you” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave.

you nod in response, heart beating rapidly in anticipation. yujin’s hand moved smoothly across your bodies, slowly undressing the two you. your body shivered at the cold air when she finally finished undressing you. yujin stared at your body with a predatory gaze causing you to cover yourself with your arms. she chuckles at your attempt to cover yourself before grabbing your arms, preventing you from further trying to.

“don’t cover your body princess, your beautiful” she says as she leans to your neck, gently nipping it making you blush

with the two of you now bare, you could finally properly her length. if you had to guess, it was around 8 inches and it was quite girthy. it was veiny and had a huge prominent vein stemming from the base to the underside of the tip.

yujin positioned herself between you, looking into your eyes searching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. seeing none, she guided her length to your core.

she penetrated you with a slow, deliberate thrust, and you yelped in pleasure. yujin stopped, giving you a moment to adjust, her gaze never leaving yours. "are you okay?" she said softly, her voice full of worry and love.

"yes," you whispered, your body craving more. "please, yujin... don't stop."

with your consent, yujin starts thrusting. each thrust harder and faster than the last one, this lead to you being a moaning and panting mess.

“you like that?” she pants, sweat running down her cheeks. “you like it when i turn you into a moaning mess?”

“yes!” you gasped. “i…–ahhh love it yujin! harder please i–ahhh want more.”

hearing this, yujin smirks before gripping your hips as she increases her pace, her eyes locked straight into yours. her gaze making you feel small.

"you're mine," she whispered, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "and i'm gonna make you feel so good."

her words drove you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. you screamed out her name, your nails clawing her back, pulling her closer as your climax came.

yujin continued to thrust into you, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her release. when she finally reached it, her body tightened, a loud, guttural cry from her lips as she gushed inside you, filling you entirely.

for a few moments, you both lay there, tangled together, your breaths mingling as you came down from your high. yujin brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her gaze softening with affection that made your heart flutter.

“i know we might be going a bit too fast but i love you y/n.” she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

you blush at her words before replying “it’s okay yuj, we’re in this together” you cup her cheeks. “and i love you too.”

yujin smiles at your words, leaning in to kiss you. “i’m gonna cherish this chance of being alive to prove to you how much i love you.” she promises.

you held her close, experiencing an overwhelming feeling of completeness and happiness you had never had before. the two of leaned in for one last before getting settled in bed to sleep.

“............”

“hey y/n?”

“hmm?”

“i think i’m getting hard again”

oh boy……..

[greyskyflowers]

I have found there's very specific things I just really enjoy in fics about Edwin and Charles's romantic relationship.

So, I honestly just can't picture Charles anything other than very inexperienced at intimacy but so excited. Like a teenager feeling up his first girlfriend in the back of a car or under the bleachers. Excited, nervous, eager to please and just kind of in awe of being able to touch someone like that. He's got almost no idea what he's doing but he's 100% open and willing to learning.

I think he always ends up smiling into kisses, a little lopsided grin that's pleased as hell. He always offers a bunch of little encouragements and comforts You're doing great. I know it's a lot but I've got you. You feel good.

And lots of nipping, bites, and marks because no one will ever convince me Charles is not a hickey man.

Charles thrives on positive feedback and Edwin makes sure to always give praise.

Edwin is just kind of overwhelmed with intimacy. Being intimate with someone is a lot, especially if you haven't had it before and you've kind of built it up in your head.

So, I always feel like Edwin is in this constant closer no that's too close wait come back push and pull of anxious affection that has him leaning into every touch even though he's also trying to pull away at the same time.

Lots of bitten off noises, hums and gasps. He touches like he's scared he's going to break something or it's all going to disappear.

If they have to stop because it gets to be too much for Edwin, Charles doesn't ever look upset. He's pleased as hell to be doing any of this. He can't think of anything Edwin could ever do to disappoint him.

Careful, light, sure touches because the only intimacy they both really have is terrible. Edwin with the boys who held him down and hell. Charles with his dad.

I think Charles shows his love by loving someone and Edwin shows his love by letting himself be loved.

Charles wasn't able to show love to his family or his friends, who weren't friends at all. I personally imagine he had lots of girls he messed around with while he was alive with but it never went beyond that into something serious.

He can't show his love to humans, like Crystal, because it makes them look crazy. He can't hold a living girl's hand in public without her getting looks. They can't kiss or even talk with other living humans around without it being strange.

He can show his love to Edwin in a way he can't show it to anyone else.

Edwin is proud to be seen with Charles. He can talk and touch and be with Charles regardless of who's around. I personally like the idea that ghosts can feel other ghosts, as if they were living people or something close to that.

So, being with Edwin feels like he's with Edwin.

I just think once the ice is broken on what their relationship is, that he'd be all over it. Holding hands, quick kisses, hugs, sitting next to each other or all tangled together. Also a big fan of Charles coming up behind Edwin, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch whatever it is he's doing.

Edwin didn't have close friends or family when he was alive, at least that we're aware of. Then he spent decades in hell where his only touch was painful, terrrifying, never ending.

Letting someone touch him, put him in such a vulnerable position physically and emotionally, is a big ask. That's why he's never done it or seem to have even contemplated it until he realizes his feelings about Charles.

He lets Charles touch him, and protect him, and know him more than anyone one else living or dead. It's easy to open himself up for Charles to love him.

I also feel like there's such a comfort level there that Edwin could say I think I'd like to try *insert action here* and Charles would be like yep yep we can do that or Charles could say I've always wanted to try *insert action here* and Edwin's like okay I'll find a book and read up on it with a fluttering of anxious excitement.

Do I also personally like to think bdsm dynamics, sexual and/or nonsexual, are present in their relationship? Yes. Absolutely. 100%.

[dark-moonlust]

Getting Pounded by Nagas PART 5: Βabies

Pairing: Two nagas x f!human reader

Summary: it has been two months since your precious eggs hatched. You have a blissful life with your mates and babies. Your nagas are the best daddies in every way. 😉

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, starts cute but then there is smut, lactating and feeding babies, double 🍆🍆, fingering, p in v, οral (male), anal, dοuble penetr. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is part of a series. Find all the parts here.

Soft afternoon light filtered through the colorful curtains. The nursery was filled with the adorable cooing of your baby naga boys. You sat at the comfortable armchair, your naga hybrids in the cradle of your arms. It had been almost two months since your precious eggs had hatched, stealing your heart forever. They were a mix of human and serpentine body, just like their daddies.

You marveled at their tiny, adorable forms which fit just perfectly in your arms. Little Rowan looked after his daddy, Thorne. He had a cute, chubby face with big eyes the same color as yours, and a tiny green-scaled tail. Little Bjorn, however had inherited your human nose and lips, and Ragnor’s eyes and red-scaled tail.

You were so proud that your DNA had been accepted by the eggs and they now looked after you as well.

You kissed each of their chubby cheeks and blew raspberries on their round bellies. The little ones giggled and looked at you with tenderness and love. Ahh, your heart felt so full!

Sitting back comfortably, you lowered the neckline of your dress and offered your breasts to your hungry little naga hybrids. They eagerly latched on your nipples, tiny hands nuzzling your breasts as they began to nurse, their tails cradling your arms waist. It was a calming and incredibly beautiful sight, watching them feed and grow stronger with each passing day. And dear Gods, they did eat a lot. Which was good because you had so much milk that sometimes it made you uncomfortable.

Gentle cooing sounds echoed in the quiet room as the babies fed, their tails curled lovingly around you. They suckled greedily, their attention fully devoted to your breasts. A soft slithering sound caught your attention; your mates. With a smile, you turned to see Thorne and Ragnor entering the room. Your naga mates were tall and handsome with strong shoulders and chiseled muscles. Their lower torsos extended into supremely long and powerful tails that moved gracefully across the floor.

They had just come back from work. Thorne and Ragnor were rangers, they protected the frontiers of the rainforest. Your mates looked incredibly smug to have returned just in time for the feeding of the little nagas. They surrounded you from both sides, their scaled tails coiling around your seat. No matter how many times you fed the babies, they loved the sight of you and they also got highly aroused by it.

“Hey, there pretty mama,” Thorne said, bending down to kiss you deeply, tongue slipping in your mouth.

When Thorne pulled back from your mouth, Ragnor was claiming your lips, his long tongue brushing against your smaller one.

“Our beautiful mate,” Ragnor murmured proudly. “Feeding our babies. Looking so beautiful and…” he whispered in your ear, “sexy.”

“I breastfeed at least twenty times a day, aren’t you bored watching me yet?” you teased them, a bright smile on your face.

“Never,” Thorne said huskily, eyes on the babies suckling your nipples. “We can never have enough.”

“Look at our precious little ones,” Ragnor said, caressing each cheek of the babies as they fed from your breasts. They moaned softly at their daddies but kept feeding, too hungry for milk to care.

“Hungry little monsters,” Thorne chuckled. “They are enjoying it so much.”

“They take after their daddies,” Ragnor said, leaning in to kiss the mound of your left breast. His lips were warm and soft against your skin, but the baby didn’t like the disturbance and groaned softly.

“Easy there, little guy. I’m not going to steal your mama,” Ragnor said then winked up at you, “yet.”

Thorne followed, kissing the mound of your right breast. The other naga baby ignored him and latched your nipple harder as if to keep it for himself.

You winced a little at the tug, your cheeks blushing. “You two are incorrigible. Worse than babies.

Ragnor gently stroked your neck. “We can’t help it. It’s hard not to get a little jealous of our babies,” he grinned. “They get the best parts of you.”

You laughed, the sound blending with the hungry coos of the babies. “Well, our babies have their needs,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with love. “They need to be fed constantly.”

“And so do we,” Thorne whispered, kissing you lightly. “But we can wait.”

Once the babies finished their meal, they released your nipples with soft wet plops and squealed up at their daddies. Ragnor and Thorne held them in their arms, kissed and fondled their little tails. Watching your mates with the babies made you so emotional and at the same time, so happy that you’d carried their eggs and went through all the intense naga birth procedures.

Your baby hybrids were worth all of this and so much more.

An hour later, your babies were freshly clean and tucked in their cots, sleeping with their tails coiled over one another and their cute little mouths forming precious smiles. You and your mates kissed them one last time on their foreheads and quietly left the nursery.

“I believe it’s now time for you to take care of the daddies,” Ragnor told you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You giggled as they led the way to your bedroom, Ragnor’s strong arms pulling you down onto the mattress, his long tail wrapping around the bed. He kissed you, his mouth possessing yours, tongue licking inside your mouth. Thorne joined in your side, kissing the crook of your neck, tasting and teasing, making you moan with need.

A few expert tugs and wiggles and they had you naked beneath them, their hungry gazes roaming your body. After the birth, your breasts were full and round, your nipples incredibly sensitive and leaking milk. Your belly was also softer and curvier as were your thighs. Your mates were in love with your body and since you were a little shy about these changes, they took every chance to remind you just how perfect and sexy you were.

Ragnor slipped between your legs, arms holding under your knees and spreading them wide apart. Your pussy clenched with anticipation, leaking with arousal and with your mates’ seed from when they’d fucked you earlier this morning.

Thorne’s lips trailed a path down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. Ragnor took one swollen tit in his hand, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipple. Thorne cupped the other, molding it to his large palm while his thumb toyed with your leaky nipple. You squealed as they took turns worshipping your tender buds, hungry lips and tongues bringing you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Such stunning tits,” Thorne murmured, his breath hot against one nipple. “Full and ripe.”

Ragnor’s tongue nursed from the other bud, lapping up the leaking milk. “I could spend an eternity worshiping our mate,” he rasped. “Feasting on her leaking nipples, pulling, tugging, suckling.”

“Also fucking her pretty pussy and tight ass,” Thorne added cheekily, suckling your nipple into his mouth, tongue whisking the leaking tip.

“Oh, yes, that, too,” Ragnor said with a husky drawl. “Pounding her so deep that she can’t speak. Filling her up with our cum.”

“S—Stop teasing,” you said, clutching both their shoulders, your body shaking from overstimulation.

Unbothered, your mates resumed devouring your tits, massaging the tender mounds and doing all sorts of shameless things to your buds with their tongues. Your poor nipples, so sensitive and aching, responded eagerly to your mates’ touches. You stayed there and moaned lewdly as they had their way with you, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

Soon, their hands joined in the sensual game.

Thorne’s fingers reached between your legs and he began to rub your clit in slow circles. Instinctively you arched your body, bucking your hips to gain more friction. At the same time, Ragnor’s hand slid over your inner thighs before stopping to tease the rosebud of your ass. He probed gently at first, his fingers lubricated with your juices, tracing the rosebud before thrusting two thick fingers inside.

Drawn-out moans left you as you thrashed and wiggled while they devoured your nipples and teased your pussy and ass. Their tails came to clutch around your thighs, holding you brazenly open for their ministrations which heightened your arousal and finally pushed you over the edge.

With a cry, you came undone, your body convulsing, your mind blanking out for a few moments. Ragnor and Thorne continued to tease your body, no less intensely. They suckled your tits loudly, slurped at your milk and let out animalistic growls. Thorne’s fingers were languid over your pussy while Ragnor’s stayed buried inside your ass.

“Fuuuuck, you’re exquisite, mate,” Thorne murmured, his lips claiming yours.

Ragnor watched as you were kissed, pulled out his fingers and leaned to kiss your neck.

Both nagas let out low vibrating purrs that that sent shivers down your spine.

When you finally came down from your high, you kneeled between them and started stroking their bodies, taking turns kissing each of them while tracing their bulging muscles and then down their cockslits. Their double cocks were already aroused and had emerged from their slits, jutting angrily toward their stomachs.

Your hands found Thorne’s shafts and your fingers wrapped around both of them, his cocks obscenely big in your small palms. Meanwhile you worked your tongue around each of Ragnor’s dicks, tracing the bulging veins and licking the beads of pre-cum on the heads. Ragnor jerked his hips with an audible moan, thrusting one dick into your mouth, your lips stretching, throat tensing.

Their tails joined in the game, coiling around your breasts while the tips slithered down your legs, opening your asscheeks. Ragnor’s tail filled your pussy while Thorne’s slid past the tight bud of your ass and up your guts. Muffled moans escaped you at the dual penetration.

“Mphhh…” you breathed when Ragnor drew back his cock which was glistening in your saliva. You immediately sucked his other cock while pumping Thorne’s with your other hand, both their tails fucking you with primal ferocity, causing your tits to bounce.

You alternated between your mates, pumping them with your hands and taking them in your mouth. Their cocks were hard and thick, the long girths kissing the back of your throat. You choked only a little and took them like a champ, slick sucking sounds and primal groans resounding across the room.

“Yes, mate —fuckkk, feels so fucking good.”

Ragnor slammed his cock down your throat, chasing his release.

“Ghrr….! Hmnn!” You gagged when the rip of his cock kissed the back of your neck, his hot release spurting down your mouth. You took both cockheads into your mouth and shallowed every drop. Ragnor roared, his hips undulating violently as he came down your throat.

Thorne came next and you instantly put his shafts in your mouth. Your mouth filled with the cockheads while your hands wrapped around the lengths that didn’t fit. In seconds, you were swallowing load after load of his cum. His jizz was too much, it dribbled down your lips but Thorne gently pulled it back into your mouth with his thumbs. You swallowed everything obediently.

“Such a good girl,” Thorne growled as you nursed his cocks, licking a long slow stripe up the underside of the shafts. “Taking every drop of our cum.”

“And letting our tails fuck her tight little holes,” Ragnor drawled, his fingers tracing where you were filled to the hilt with their tails. “Want our tails to keep fucking you, love? Or do you want our cocks?”

“Hmphhh…” you tried to talk but your mouth was filled with Thorne’s cockheads.

“There you go,” Thorne slowly pulled back, slipping from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting his shafts to your mouth.

“Co-cocks… want to be full,” you muttered, a hazy smile playing on your lips. “Cocks, pl-please.”

“Whatever our mate wants, our mate gets,” Thorne kissed you wetly. “We’ll give you our cocks and our love.”

“And lots, lots of orgasms,” Ragnor added, claiming your lips, too.

Thorne laid down on the mattress and gently rearranged your body, pulling you to lay with your back on his chest, your legs splayed wide. Ragnor came to rest between them, watching at where their tails were still fucking you slowly. The nagas retracted their appendages and instantly wrapped around your legs, keeping them obscenely open.

Ragnor hovered above you, rubbed your clit then used his thumbs to pull your outer lips apart and expose the glistening entrance of your pussy. You were drenched, your folds pink and puffy. The bud of your ass was also swollen and the sight of your eager holes made them feral.

“How about I fuck your lovely pussy, love?” Ragnor rumbled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Thorne can take your tight little ass.”

“Hmm… yes please…” you clutched him desperately. “Want you both.”

“Sharing is caring,” Thorne muttered cheekily as he lifted you by the globes of your ass and positioned you over his twin cocks. He cupped both shafts and prodded your tight asshole with the heads. You whimpered, your tight hole stretching to accommodate his massive cocks. Inch by inch he lowered you down until he was deep up your ass.

It was then when Ragnor pushed forward, clutching his shafts in his palms and driving them inside your pussy. You accepted them, inch by delicious inch, filled to the limit, your belly swelling with their girths inside you.

“Tight. So wet and tight.” Ragnor’s gaze smoldered with need. “Taking us so good. Our good little mate. The mother of our offspring. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, love.“

They started to grind inside you, their hips pumping steadily. They stretched and filled your holes again and again. You sobbed and clung to Ragnor for dear life, while Thorne toyed with your nipples and flicked your clit in time with his thrusts. You came in no time, pussy and ass clenching around their cocks, body arching wildly. Their tails gripped your hips so you wouldn’t shift away from their pounding.

They didn’t stop.

They kept fucking you through your orgasm, Ragnor’s grip tightening as he pulled you to ride him. Your legs wrapped around his torso and he lowered you onto his thick, waiting cocks. The stretch was intense, his girths stretching you to the brim. Thorne sat up behind you, his chest against your back as he adjusted the angle and thrust his cocks up your ass.

The new position was overwhelming, you were so completely filled, consumed by the sheer intensity of their shafts rubbing inside you.

They settled into a maddening rhythm, pounding your holes at the same time, never leaving you empty. Your arms clutched them while your small body, trapped between them jerked in time with their powerful thrusts. The sensations were maddening, leaving you gasping and begging for release.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Thorne breathed against your ear, hands tweaking your nipples. “I can feel your ass clenching around me.”

Ragnor hummed. “Can’t last much longer,” he said, his voice rough.

“Hmmm… m’ too, want to come— ahnn… close so close,” you whimpered as they pounded into you, changing nothing in their tactics.

“Let it go, little mate,” Ragnor drawled. “Let it go and take our cum, hm?”

You nodded fervently, clutching them while bouncing on them and chasing your peak.

Thorne’s cocks drove deep into your ass, and Ragnor’s cocks filled your pussy utterly, their relentless pace shattering you. You came with a cry, every nerve ending on fire.

They followed right after, their cocks pulsing and filling you with loads and loads of their seed. It was so much it overflowed and tricked down your thighs.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, they gently rolled you sideways, their cocks still hard inside you. They kissed you, Thorne against your back, his hands caressing your face. Ragnor lay in front of you, whispering soothing words as he nibbled at your neck. You fell asleep nestled within them, satisfied and full of love.

Your mates. The loves of your life. The fathers of your children. Your everything.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! Also, what do you want to happen next? What do you want to see? My inbox is open, hit me up! More smutty stuff on Patreon, too. 😊🖤

[clockwayswrites]

I didn't write Danny meeting more Bats.

wc: 813, Masterpost

“No,” Jason growled.

Tim threw his hands up in the air. “You don’t even know why we’re here!”

“Whatever it is can’t be good.” Jason stalked forward until he was toe to toe with Tim. The red helmet was angled down in a way that made it look like it was glaring. Cass loved how expressive Jason could be with it. “I didn’t invite you into my territory. Go home.”

Arms crossed, Tim jutted his chin up defiantly. “We’re not vampires, we don’t need an invite.”

“Boys, boys! You’re both pretty!” Steph said as she tried push herself between them before a fight started.

Tim sputtered and rocked back slightly from Steph’s efforts to separate them. “Pretty?”

“What? You’re a hundred p pretty and Red Hood’s got them thighs,” Steph defended herself. “Shut up, I’m only human, I’m allowed to look!”

Cass laughed silently as Jason’s shoulders slumped in weary defeat. Steph’s shoulder was really digging into him now as she tried unsuccessfully to get either of the boys to move.

“What the fuck do you three want?”

“Danny,” Cass chirped.

“What?”

“Danny,” Cass repeated.

“Okay, yeah,” Jason scoffed, “so repeating what I said at the start of all this, no.”

Cass would have pouted if she wasn’t wearing her mask; pouting usually worked on Jason. She would have to try using her words instead. “You like Red more than me?”

“Him?” Jason asked, incredulously, as he motioned around Steph to Tim.

“Hey!” Tim snapped and finally took a step back. He could pout.

“What? Fuck,” Jason cussed. “No, I mean. It’s her, I don’t like any sibling more than her. Don’t look at me like that, she’s your favorite too!”

Tim sighed, though he was still pouting a little. “Of course she is. She’s everyone’s favorite. Except maybe the brat, I mean, but does he really count?”

“No,” Cass said serenely. Besides, she would win Damian over yet. He just didn’t understand it was alright to care that way for people and show it yet.

“See all good here. So I’m going to—”

“Red met Danny. If I am your favorite I should too.”

Jason just stared at her. His eyes may have been unreadable, but she could tell the moment she had won by how his body shifted. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” she said confidently.

“So much hate,” Jason grumbled before turning his back to them and leaping over to the next building.

The rest of them followed loyally along as Jason lead them through Crime Alley and to a dinner.”

“Jenny,” he rasped as they entered.

“Hood,” she said back and nodded with her head. “You boy is in the back. You might want to see if you can get him to lay off on the coffee.”

Jason gave a sigh at that, Jenny didn’t react at all to the way the helmet made the noise threatening or the rest of them following after Red Hood to the back booth where a mop of black hair was bowed down over the table covered in books, paper, and a battered laptop that glowed faintly grew under the keys.

“Danny,” Jason said, motioning to the guy in the booth.

He didn’t look much like Tim had described him, dressed in a light, long sleeve shirt over a tank top.

“Hum?”

“Guests,” Jason said and settled into the booth. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair and the other just leaned into the motion with a pleased nice.

“Guests?” Danny asked, finally looking up. “Oh, Bats! Hi.”

Cass waved back.

“Red you’ve met. Spoiler, don’t trust her, and Black Bat,” Jason said. “They wanted to meet you.”

Danny gave them a smile from over the lip of his coffee cup. “Little ‘ol me?”

Jason snorted and reached to take the coffee away. “Don’t act innocent.”

“My coffee…”

“Jenny tattled on you. I’ll get you a milk shake instead. When did you eat?”

‘See?’ Tim mouthed at Steph and Cass.

“I ate! I ate lunch when I got here.”

“Danny, it’s dark out,” Jason said, sounded so worn down.

“I’ve been studying?” Danny said, innocently, and made another grab for his coffee.

Jason just scoffed and handed Tim the coffee as he got back out of the booth. “Drink this before he can and sit down. I’m getting menus.”

“Sweet, I’m going to get waffles!” Steph said as she slid into the booth. Cass nudged Tim to slide in after her.

Danny eyed the coffee cup. “If I promise to drink it before he can see will you give me that back?”

“Oh my god, there are two of you,” Steph grumbled. She grabbed the cup out of Tim’s hand and chugged it. “There, solved.”

“Hood is right, I shouldn’t trust you,” Danny said with a pout.

It was a very good pout. Cass bet it got Danny his way a lot.

---

AN: This could/should have been longer but I wanted to get you all something this week and it is A) hell week and B) I am not doing Great™️(almost fell down last time I got up, which wasn't great as I was above the basement stairs but hey, we're ooooookay). Anyways, enjoy some Cass POV and more Bats meeting Danny!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[ms-demeanor]

So Large Bastard went into the hospital for transplant evaluation on February 13th 2021 and that was one of the major peaks of covid and basically we dropped him off at the hospital and that was it; nobody was allowed to visit him or see him and they pretty much immediately implanted a pump in his shoulder that made it painful and difficult for him to use the phone. At that point the message we were getting was "either he'll qualify for a transplant and you'll see him again when he is released after the transplant (and the waitlist, and the surgery, and the recovery) or we'll allow you to visit him when he's dying OR he won't qualify for transplant and we'll provide his end of life care and we'll allow you to visit him when he's dying" and on like February 16th, before we knew if he'd qualify for a transplant, I got a call from the hospital saying they were putting him on a heart/lung bypass machine because the pump they'd implanted in his shoulder and the pump they'd implanted in his heart weren't doing enough (both are designed to pump blood through about six feet of human, not through about seven feet of human, so they needed a much larger external pump). They asked me if I approved this procedure because he was kind of out of it, and held the phone up to him so I could ask him if he wanted this and say goodbye - I didn't know if that was goodbye until he got woken up by the doctors after stabilizing, or goodbye until he got approved for a transplant, or goodbye until he didn't get approved for a transplant and they'd take him off the machine to say goodbye for real if they couldn't keep him alive any longer.

And then they hung up the phone and I sat at my desk and stared at my computer and went back to work because literally what the hell else could I do? I couldn't drive to the hospital, I couldn't anxiously wait to see if the doctor would come out and tell me the machine had stabilized him. They said they'd call me in three hours with an update. So I took some orders and placed some calls and responded very politely to emails until I got off the clock at 5:30.

I had texted one of Large Bastard's friends who I'd been calling a lot and asked if we could meet up so I could explain what was going on so he could pass that info on to their radio nerd club. We were meeting up in the parking lot of an ihop because it was an easy outdoor location to describe to him when I wasn't actually capable of processing things like "addresses" or "street names" and I drove over to the ihop and at the red light for the left turn to go into the parking lot I fucking lost it. Like. I don't do the "hysterical crying" thing often but when I do, boy do I. I was in my truck with the windows rolled up and music on and I was sobbing so hard that it shook the truck and the crying was audible from outside the car.

I know it was audible from outside the car because a homeless man came up to my window and knocked and when I rolled the window down he told me "you're okay girl, you got this, it's gonna be alright" and I kind of nodded at him and sobbed at him and waved at him as he kept crossing the street and my light changed and I turned into the parking lot.

By the time my friend got there I had calmed down and stopped crying and through the entire rest of the process I never lost it in quite the same way; they took Large Bastard off the lung bypass part of the machine a day later and he was awake when they approved him for the transplant list, and a few days after that they started allowing a single, masked, socially distanced family member to start visiting patients in the transplant ICU for two hours a day, so I was able to come see him and he immediately said "look I have abs" and pulled his gown aside to show me that he'd lost so much weight as his body tried to eat itself to stay alive that he did, in fact, have an eight pack. And we laughed about it. It was uphill from there. It was never as hard for me as it was in the few hours after that phone call.

And in those few hours there was one dude who happened to be walking by who was kind enough to try to offer comfort to a complete stranger and I think about him all the time.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au p aring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> abuse, mention of sex / pregnancies, etc. words -> 2.3K

abstract -> Never owe people favors it could one day cost you your life...

y/n’s perspective

“Taeyong, you can’t be serious,” I said as I was now in the office of the devil himself. And he's called to get his end in a favor. “You owe me,” he said and I scoffed. 

“You’re literally chasing in a favor from when I was in college,” I said and he only grinned. “You still owe me. Besides, it shouldn't be dangerous” and I scoffed at his reassurance. 

“It's just an interview. You’ll wear a wire, and all I need is evidence” he asked and I sighed. “Fine. But I won't risk my life for this, Taeyong” I said and he nodded. 

“I would never put you in a dangerous situation. This won’t hurt you”

“Do you have to do this? Or at least take one of us with you?” Yeosang asked and I shook my head. “I have to repay him. He helped me a lot in college… besides he's trying to do a good thing” I explained and they sighed. “You’ll be okay right?” Wooyoung asked as he hugged me tightly. 

“Of course, he explained that I'll be going in for an interview and he’ll be listening in case. He will only interfere once he's gotten information though, so I won't be in danger. This won't affect us” I assured them and they nodded. 

“Be careful, circus hybrids are some of the most deprived and abused hybrids” San warned and I nodded. Over the years people stopped performing with animals and advanced to hybrids because of their ability to be trained and have a human way of thinking

Even though many people thought it was better it's not too well known that it's abusive to them just repeating history. “Be careful” they said as I was now on the elevator waving bye to the boys. 

They've really grown. 

I’ve officially had San and Wooyoung for five months. Whilst Yeosang joined us two months ago. It's actually been seven months since I originally adopted Son. I couldn’t be happier to have them by my side. 

Now I had to pay my debt to the devil named Taeyong. He truly does hold grudges… 

I walked into the VIP line where I showed my journalist ticket. I would be able to take pictures, and even conduct an interview. As I walked in I noticed the hybrids on display. 

There were two specifically at the entrance. They had bold big letters ‘MATZ’. They were meant to sit there in a glass box… it didn’t even have enough room to walk one step. In a smaller print were their names. 

Seinghwa was the one smiling and bowing, whilst Hongjoong only stared. He would be too far down, he could probably be dangerous. The ones around me started flashing lights at them… it clearly bothered them. I made sure to ask Taeyong to give me a camera without a flash. I took a photo of the surroundings. Another reason why he had me do this job and not Mark was because I have a hybrid specialist license to see and even handle red-coded hybrids with supervision. 

I knew how to analyze their behaviors. So when I saw Hongjoong, he had the potential to be a black code hybrid. 

“Hello! Welcome, it's an honor to see such esteemed guests !! I hope you may enjoy the show !--” as he spoke I saw his ringmaster look. He had jesters and clown costumed people handle hybrids. A few were assigned to cuff and ensure ‘MATZ’ did not act out.

They were tigers and therefore dangerous. 

“-- Of course, if you need help please ask one of my staff. I look forward to the interviews I’m scheduled for” he said as he left. As the staff looked at our tickets I was led to the back. I was given a pre / post-interview. 

“Hello, I’m going to be conducting an interview?” I said as I now saw the ringleader with the two tigers. They had chains connecting to their collar which looked like ones that were for black code hybrids. 

“Ah yes, may I ask which firm it is under?” he asked and I nodded. “It would be under the N.E.O. Firm” I stated and he nodded. 

“I see. How is Moon Taeil?” he asked and I smiled. “He’s actually on vacation at the moment. Last I heard he was in China visiting a few friends. '' I answered and he chuckled. 

“I know, your firm isn’t too keen on me,” he said and I noticed the curious eyes of the tigers. “Well, the firm has hybrid rights associated. It has been for years now” I answered and he nodded with calculating eyes. 

“That it is. Though I can assure you, our hybrids are treated like family” he said and I smiled softly as I wrote down notes of the two hybrids behind him. They were clearly agitated by his words, almost like he was lying.

“Well then. What are your questions?” he asked politely. “How many hybrids currently do you have registered?” I asked and he nodded. “Around fifty dear,” he said and I nodded. “And all are vaccinated with the current hybrid regulations, health up-to-date, VISA’s registered?” I asked and he answered yes. 

So he denied hybrid trafficking, and hybrid health neglect.

“May I ask you to talk about MATZ?'' I asked and he nodded. “These two were born into the circus. Their parents are a mix from our circus and a breeder which I know personally” he explained and I saw how Seonghwa kept on staring at my coat. His ears were twitching and I noticed Hongjoong’s glare at me….

“These two are such close friends we thought that a show would be most beneficial and fun for them,” he said while lifting his hands to pet their heads making them both clearly uncomfortable. Seonghwa stared wearily whilst Hongjoong looked like he could bite any minute.

“May I ask if I own hybrids?” He asked and I contemplated. “Decline anything in your personal life” I heard on the headpiece Taeyong gave me.

“No, I do not,” I said and he nodded. “Are you against the ownership?” He asked and I shook my head. “Not necessarily… it would take a lot of circumstances for me to adopt a hybrid,” I said and the ringmaster only nodded. 

“I can assure you every hybrid here is taken care of, and we’ll look after it, '' he said and I noticed Seonghwa's gaze. It wasn’t like Hongjoong’s glare; it was almost like he was pleading for help. 

“What’s the situation with heats?” I asked and he chuckled… “I don’t believe in heat suppressants. I let them go on with it with the other gender hybrid” he explained. 

Meaning it's how he has so many hybrids… he’s illegally breeding them. “Are you not worried about pregnancies?” I asked.

“No… some of our female hybrids are sterile so they can’t reproduce either way” he explained.

It wasn’t abuse per se to sterilize a hybrid… but it was being argued for hybrid rights.

“How long have you had this duo?” I asked curious. “Hmm, these two rascals? Well, they were born in 1998 and they’ve been with me since then.” He said and I nodded.

Would they speak out against their master? They would’ve seen everything… been through… everything.

“Sir?” I heard a clown asking for the attention of his boss. “Ah give me a moment my dear, why not have an exclusive interview with a MATZ performer. Hongjoong needs some touching up so Seonghwa treats her nicely '' be said and I knew the reason why they took the orange tiger away was because of his behavior.

“Be careful, an abuse hybrid can be triggered at any mention of abuse. Ask simple questions.” Taeyong said and before I could start I looked at him.

He stared at me with soft eyes and a smile... it shocked me how gentle his expression looked.

“I’m not fragile for you not to ask me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen. “The moment you walked in I heard that radio of yours… it kinda hurt at first” he confessed.

“I’m sorry,” I said but I couldn’t turn it off for my safety.

“It’s alright… you're not the first person to come here to infiltrate this place,” he said with his ears flattening on his head. He was losing hope for himself.

“How many hybrids are there?” I asked and he sighed. “I’ve lost count… it is over a hundred by now and more to come” he explained. “Oh, and he doesn’t register hybrids in case they die. It’s a miracle to even survive birth here… let alone survive being a baby here. We aren’t checked for until we’re cubs… after that, we’re never looked after again. The only thing he’ll ask to do is hygiene for his top performers” he explained.

“I’ve heard of your firm from the clowns… they hate you,” he said and I chuckled. “They said something about a girl writing about hybrid rights. Since then they’ve shut down several enterprises” he said and I smiled.

My reputation follows me.

“They might know who you are, be careful,” Taeyong said and Seonghwa only stared at me with twitching ears.

“You must have really good hearing to catch it,” I said and he smiled softly with his tail swishing behind him.

“Thanks… but it comes in handy with the staff,” he said and I sighed. 

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” I asked and he swallowed down saliva showing how nervous he was.

“I’ll tell you everything if you manage to burn this place down,” he said and I sighed. “How about we make a promise?” I asked and he looked at me confused.

“I’ll shut this place down… but that’ll be the easy part. I’ll still need some more evidence after to concrete it” I asked and he nodded.

“Good luck”

The show was like any other hybrid show. 

You could see the fear in hybrid's eyes when they made a mistake and had to cover it. Clowns and performers have the upper hand. 

MATZ had the opening… they did dangerous stunts. There were a few times they stumbled but otherwise did the best they could. The crowd loved them… I saw the contrast of the two… fear and anger.

Once the show was over I did a closing statement with the ringmaster and some staff who showed me around.

“And our opening act. Did you enjoy it?” they asked and I smiled when I saw Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a tiny cage. It had enough room for the both of them but it must've made them feel trapped.

The staff were talking to other reporters when I noticed the heavy glare Hingjoong was giving me.

Seonghwa got his attention and looked to be scolding him only for him to scoff. He looked over at me and bowed in an apology in which I shook my head. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show” 

seonghwa’s pov

As the reporters left with the staff, Hongjoong glared at me. “Quit acting that way” I scolded and he scoffed

“She’s not the first person to come here asking for questions with a wire,” he said and I sighed.

“You heard what they said about that firm though—“ “She also said how she didn’t own any hybrids but owned three,” he said and I was confused. 

“She has hybrid scents reading out of her. You shouldn’t trust humans so easily… one day it’ll be you they’re disposing of” he said and I looked down.

“I… sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. I’m just sick of this Seonghwa but this is our life and it’ll never change” he said and I chose not to believe that. 

I had hoped that she’d complete her promise.

“Hongjoong…. Sometimes you just have to have faith that people are still good. We don’t know how it is outside… maybe it’s different” I said and he sighed.

“But is it any better?” He asked and before I could respond I heard yelling.

“Woah!? What are you doing?!” I heard as I saw the ringmaster following… policemen? 

“This place is being temporarily shut down for inspection and so are the hybrids in this vicinity. If we find anyone trying to smuggle or hide evidence you’ll be under arrest for tampering with a crime scene” he said and I also noticed people with white lab coats. 

“Start arresting staff members and performers. Contain all the hybrids as well” he ordered and the last thing I saw was Hongjoong defying them whilst I felt a sharp pain in my neck.

Everything could only get better… right?

Waking up in a white and cold room was not what I expected…

“White tiger hybrid seems to be malnourished, untreated second-degree burns, underweight, untreated cuts, and dehydrated. Seems to be approximately 25 years old and unclassified code due to tranquilizer” I heard… Was that a doctor?

I tried sitting up but my wrists were bound. 

“You’re awake? Are you going to comply?” he asked me and I noticed how close he was. He seemed to purposely try to annoy me… “Classified as yellow. He’s one of the tame ones” he said into the radio. Classifications? I knew very little of that… but yellow wasn’t bad?

“The orange tiger is awake, and is showing a lot of aggression” I heard on his radio… Hongjoong? “Tranquilize him,” the doctor said and I struggled against the constraints. “He’s your partner, right? They won’t hurt him, but he will hurt us… he’s in good hands'' he said and I scoffed. Like I’d trust humans now after… 

“What happened to the reporter?” I asked and he looked at me confused. “She promised to help me… what did she do?” I asked and he hummed. “She’ll be conducting interviews this following week. So be on your best behavior or you’ll end up in a higher code” he said as he left the room. 

She actually… helped us?

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Summary: After you attend Harris's birthday party, Eddie's forced to confront some big feelings, and a Valentine's date has the two of you navigating a much different type of big feeling.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), fingering, protected p in v, slight breeding kink, very fluffy smut, brief mention of parental abandonment

WC: 8.6k

Chapter 12/20

Eddie's card credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers Mixtape credit to @lofaewrites Divider credit to @saradika

The mingled scents of wood polisher, stale cigarette smoke, and old frying oil invade your nostrils the second you step into Hawkins Lanes. Bowling balls thud as they make contact with the fiberglass lanes, subsequently crashing into the waiting pins. You offer a smile at the exasperated teenager clearly nursing a hangover, holding back a dry heave as he sprays a pair of red and blue shoes with a can of deodorizer that, given the undertones of pungent sweat permeating the air, is likely well past expired.

“I’m here for Harris Munson’s birthday party?” It comes out like a question rather than a definitive statement, and you hold up the gift bag in your hand like it’s some kind of evidence.

The teenager jerks a thumb towards the back left of the building, not bothering to look up. “Party room’s down there,” he mumbles, and you thank him as you walk along the pink and purple carpet.

You’ve arrived a little early, hoping to steal a few moments with Eddie before the chaos of the day begins. Wayne is the only one in the small room, stretching to hang up a sign proudly declaring ‘Happy Birthday,’ each letter a different color of the rainbow. He grins when he sees you approaching, and you hold one end of the sign in place as he adheres it to the door frame with Scotch tape.

“Good to see y’again, darlin’.” Wayne greets you with a grin, taping your side of the banner. 

You put your arm down and return his smile. “You, too!” you chirp, glancing around the room. “Where can I put Harris’s present?”

The older man points to an empty table off to the side. “Right over there should be good,” he figures aloud. “Ed just took Harris to the little boys’ room, but they’ll letcha know otherwise.”

You nod, gently placing the bright yellow bag atop a table covered with a Hot Wheels-themed cloth. Amusement dances on your lips at the realization that Eddie must have splurged on decorations; it’s far better quality than one from the local 99-cent store. 

“Ms. Sweetheart! You’re at my birthday party!” Harris’s enthusiastic voice captures your attention, and you spin around just as he’s launching himself into your arms. A tiny human rocketship. 

“I am!” You laugh, motioning towards the gift table, “and I left your present over there.” 

Harris’s face lights up and he starts towards it, arms outstretched and ready to tear through the tissue paper, but the sound of his dad clearing his throat stops him in his tracks. 

“Remember,” Eddie says, keeping his tone calm but firm, “we’re gonna open everything once all your friends are here, after we eat cake.”

Harris juts out his lower lip in a pout. “But Daddy,” he protests, “I wanna open it now!” He stomps his foot indignantly, and you have to suppress a laugh at how silly it looks with the clown-esque bowling shoe on. 

“Harris, can you wait until you open the ones from your friends?” You phrase it like a favor, hoping to appeal to him that way. “I’m really excited about what I got you and I want them to see you open it, too.” Of course, you couldn’t care less about what a bunch of random four- and five-year-olds think about your gift, but you had to think quickly before the whine escalated to a tantrum. 

He releases a sigh of exasperation but ultimately concedes. “Okay, I guess I can wait.”

Eddie mouths thank you and winks as the four of you walk out to the lanes to wait for Harris’s friends. You feel a hand slip into yours, too small to be Eddie’s, and beam when Harris looks up at you with pure joy.

“Daddy! Grampa Wayne! I’m holding Ms. Sweetheart’s hand!” he exclaims, baby teeth on full display

Eddie ruffles Harris's hair. “I’m jealous.” If prompted, he’ll claim that he’s envious that his son chose to hold your hand instead of his. But you and him–and Wayne, let’s be real–know the real meaning behind his statement.

As Harris’s friends arrive and the birthday boy greets each of them with a hug, you and Eddie spring into action and line them up to get fitted for shoes. There are five kids, three boys and two girls, and though you recognize them as Ms. Marion’s students, you don’t know any of them by name. The bowling shoe laces are flimsy, and a few of them struggle with the fine motor skills necessary to tie them.

“Can I help you with that?” you ask one boy, who nods and extends his leg towards you. You crouch down and rest his foot on your knee as you double-knot the laces. When you finish, you look up to see that the rest of the kids have formed a line for your shoe-tying expertise.

Eddie returns from dropping off the guests’ gifts in the party room, laughing when he stumbles upon the queue of children. “You don’t have to do all that, Sweetheart,” he tells you, using his hands to assess the weight of different bowling balls before distributing them to the kids.

You shrug as you finish tying the last shoes. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie has reserved two lanes for the party, and before anyone can figure out who will be bowling where, Harris is tugging on his Black Sabbath t-shirt.

“We wanna play in teams,” he reports matter-of-factly. You’re not sure who ‘we’ refers to, since you didn’t see him corroborating with any of his friends, but you don’t question it aloud. “Team Harris and Team Daddy.”

Eddie gasps with feigned offense, bringing his palm to his heart. “What? You don’t want me on your team?”

“Nope.” Harris shakes his head, curls swaying back and forth. “I want Ms. Sweetheart on my team.” He pauses as he glances around the group, eyes brightening when his gaze lands on the eldest Munson. “You can have Grampa Wayne.”

“Old man’s probably gonna break a hip.” Eddie grumbles teasingly, picking up a red marbled bowling ball and hoisting it up to his chest.

Wayne scratches the top of his head. “And yet I can still kick your ass.” He keeps his voice low so that little ears can’t hear, but you and Eddie can, and you tuck your lips into your mouth so none of the kids catch on.

Harris is up first, squatting down and using two hands to roll the ball down the lane. His method proves to be somewhat effective when he knocks down a few pins, and the scoreboard screen flashes a giant number 5. 

“That’s how many years I am!” Harris proudly announces, skipping back to where the rest of his team is standing. He cocks his head at the ball return’s open mouth for the neon green ball that Eddie had handed him earlier, eagerly scooping it up when he spots it. Assuming the same stance, he once again rolls the ball and successfully topples two more pins.

Eddie raises his brows incredulously. “Hmm, let me try that strategy.”

“I don’t think there’s enough pins for all of your years,” you quip, and Eddie sticks out his tongue in your direction before mimicking Harris’s approach, knees aligned with his toes. He draws the ball back between his legs and releases it a few inches ahead of him, smirking as it cascades down the lane.

His cockiness is apparently earned, since he gets a strike. He attempts a victory moonwalk, clumsily dragging one foot behind the other in a manner that would make Michael Jackson regret ever making the move popular. The heel of his shoe catches on the floor and he stumbles backwards, landing on his ass.

The kids burst out into peals of laughter, and you and Wayne join in once it is evident that Eddie’s not hurt, only embarrassed. You stoop down, clutching your ball between your palms as you grin. “That’s what you get for gloating,” you whisper in his ear, a joking lilt in your voice. “Try setting a good example for the kids next time.”

Unbeknownst to you, one of the kids, Kelly, strikes up a conversation with Harris while you’re up to bowl. “Is that your mommy?” she asks him, strawberry blonde pigtails softly swishing as she looks over at you.

“No, but she’s gonna be my mommy soon!” Harris replies happily. “She and my daddy are gonna fall in love and then she’ll be my mommy.” His voice lowers as concern mars his words. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? Because it’s my birthday cake wish and I need it to come true.”

Kelly nods, taking this obligation seriously, and she averts her gaze when she spots you walking back to the ball return. Since you’d only knocked down eight pins, you take another turn, slipping your thumb, middle, and ring fingers into the holes, frowning when you don’t get the spare you’d hoped for. 

Harris’s chipperness brings a smile back to your face. “Ms. Sweetheart, can you teach me how to bowl like a grown-up?” He blinks a few times, hammering in his naturally docile nature.

“Of course!”

When it’s Harris’s turn again, Eddie watches you go up with him. It’s noisy, but he zeros in on your sweet tone among the clattering of bowling pins and cacophonous conversations.

“See, you put your middle finger and ring finger here, and your thumb here,” you’re gently explaining. “And then you lift the ball back just a bit, bring it forward, and let it go.” You go through all of the motions without actually letting go of the ball, Harris’s eyes glued to your every move. “You try.”

Harris follows your instructions, pink tongue poking from his mouth in sheer concentration, and knocks down a single pin. Eddie braces himself for his disappointment, maybe even escalation to a tantrum, so he’s pleased when his son spins back with a wide, toothy smile.

“I did it! I knocked it down!”

“You’re amazing! I’m so proud of you, Harris.” Eddie’s posture softens as Harris runs into your arms and gives you a giant hug, tiny fingers digging into your biceps as he squishes the side of his face just below your collarbones. When he does this, Eddie notices that Harris’s cheeks have lost some of their chubbiness; his son’s baby-like features subtly disappearing to make way for attributes of the older child he’s growing into. It brings a slight pang to his heart, and he swallows the emotion and focuses instead on the bonding moment between you and the not-so-little boy.

There’s a shared love; more than that, there’s trust. Harris knows he can rely on you to teach him with kindness and patience, that you won’t berate him or yell at him for doing something incorrectly. You’re his Ms. Sweetheart.

Wayne takes note of the goofy smile adorning his nephew’s face, nudging him before he drops the bowling ball on his foot. “I know you’re in love with her, but she ain’t worth losing your toes over.”

Eddie’s face flushes pink, the tips of his ears burning now that he's been caught. “I’m not in love with her, Wayne.” At least, I didn’t think I was yet, but now I might be.

“Whatever you say,” Wayne mutters under his breath, taking careful steps towards the lane. “You, uh, might wanna wipe the drool from your chin before you take your turn, though.”

Team Harris ultimately wins, mostly because Wayne throws the game so the birthday boy can have a victorious moment. You, Eddie, and Wayne quickly corral the kids into the party room, seating them at a large rectangular table for cake and presents before anyone can take offense over the game results. The three of you breathe silent sighs of relief when you easily shift their focus to the next activity.

Eddie pulls his lighter from his back pocket, flicking it on and lighting the five thin blue and white striped candles unevenly jabbed through the chocolate frosted homemade cake. He picks up the plate, supporting it from the bottom as he leads the group in a hilariously off-key rendition of Happy Birthday.

Harris squeezes his eyes shut before blowing out the flames with gusto, a big grin on his face when he opens them again.

Feeling a hand clap on his shoulder, Eddie swivels his body to see his uncle armed with a disposable Kodak camera. “Let me get a picture of you and the birthday boy,” Wayne insists, peering through the little viewfinder and snapping a photo. Eddie’s crouched down, right arm slung over Harris’s shoulders. Both of them wear matching smiles; the only difference is that Harris is still sporting his baby teeth. 

“Now Ms. Sweetheart!” the little Munson declares. Eddie goes to leave, pressing his palms to his knees and standing up, but Harris grabs his wrist and pulls him back. “No, Daddy. You and me and Ms. Sweetheart together!”

You shuffle over to stand on Harris’s other side. When you place your hand on his upper back, Eddie’s slides over yours, the two of you and Harris chiming “cheese!” in enthusiastic unison. 

Blinking from the brightness of the flash, you extend your arm and make a ‘gimme’ motion with your hand. “Let me get one of the three of you,” you say to Wayne, who begrudgingly places the camera in your outstretched palm. 

Eddie pulls him in closer. “Alright, Munson men. Flex those muscles!” You giggle as the three of them bend their arms to show off whatever biceps they have. 

“Ms. Sweetheart, who’s got the biggest muscles?” Harris asks as you lower the camera. 

You scrunch up your nose as though seriously contemplating the question. “Um, me, obviously!” You smack your own bicep, sending Harris into hysterics.

“That’s so silly!” he cackles, glancing up at Eddie. “Daddy, isn’t Ms. Sweetheart so silly?”

You expect him to agree with his son, but he just puts his hands on his shoulders and gives a quick squeeze as he says, “Nah, she’s the strongest person I know.” Your stomach flip-flops when he peers at you through his impossibly long lashes. He picks up the plate and brings it over to the smaller, empty table. “Let’s cut this cake before the kids start revolting.”

The two of you use plastic knives and forks to divide the cake into slivers and toss them onto paper plates. Once all of the kids have their slices, Eddie licks the excess frosting from his fingers and hands you a plate. 

“Havin’ fun?” He carefully wraps the question in a joking tone, but you can tell that he’s genuinely curious about whether you’re enjoying yourself. 

You spear a piece of your slice with the plastic fork. “I am, actually.” The chocolate melts in your mouth, and your tongue glides over your lips to catch any crumbs. “I haven’t been bowling since I was a kid.”

“And it shows,” he teases, wincing when you flick his cheek. “Hey, now—violence is never the answer. What values are you instilling in these impressionable young minds?”

Harris pops up from his seat, waving an empty plate. Whatever cake bits were left on it have tumbled to the floor. “Daddy, I’m done! Can I open my presents now?”

“Jesus, did you inhale that thing?” Eddie wonders aloud, but ultimately agrees. He grabs a bunch of thin napkins and wipes Harris’s hands and face, laughing when the boy sputters as the paper presses against his lips. “Har Bear, you don’t wanna get your presents all messy.”

Once he’s all cleaned up, Harris grabs each of the gifts and brings them to his seat at the head of the table. He tears through brightly colored wrapping paper at lightning speed. Eddie tries to keep track of who gave what as his son unveils a Hot Wheels track from Charlie and his brother Brendan, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure from Kelly, a G.I. Joe from Emma, and—regrettably—a tub of Gak from Zachary. He makes a mental note to pick up a harmonica or a kazoo or something else noisy when that kid’s birthday rolls around. 

The last gift left is from you, and you twiddle your thumbs as you await Harris’s reaction. Should I have gotten him a toy?

“It’s a stencil kit,” you feel the need to explain, as though you wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment of him asking what it is. “So you can trace shapes for your art. It’s got all different ones: food, animals, holidays…” You clamp your mouth shut, willing yourself to stop talking. 

Your panic is short-lived; Harris’s brown eyes light up as he runs to you and wraps his arms around your legs in another giant hug. “I’m gonna draw you so much things!” he promises, gazing up at you excitedly. 

“I can’t wait to see what you make me.” A drawing from Harris holds a deeper meaning than you ever realized. It’s more than a simple display of creativity; it’s a symbol of love and acceptance into his life. 

He looks at his dad now with pleading eyes. “Can Ms. Sweetheart come to our house after the party so I can draw her a picture? Please?” He stretches out the last word so that it has at least five syllables. 

Eddie looks at you expectantly, a timid smile on his lips. “Well?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Your response earns you another quick squeeze from Harris before he darts back to his seat to further inspect his gifts. 

Eddie’s warm voice is low in your ear, his fingertips ghosting the small of your back in a manner that lets you—and only you—know how starved he is for touch. “And you can help me get rid of that slime thing, too.”

Once the party has ended and you, Eddie, and Harris are back at their apartment, the cherubic boy takes the stenciling kit into his room. 

“I’m gonna do art in here so you can’t peek,” he declares, clutching the kit to his chest as though there’s already something to hide. 

Eddie chuckles, raking a hand through his curls. “Okay, bud. We’ll be out here, watching TV. You go be a little artíst.”

Once he hears the bedroom door click shut, Eddie puts the TV on a random channel and plops on the couch with a soft oof. You sit down next to him and he puts his arm around you, allowing you to snuggle in closer. The shirt fabric against his underarms is slightly damp with the day’s sweat, but you’re far too comfortable to even consider it an issue. 

Your unsuccessful attempt at stifling a yawn has Eddie grinning. “Can’t hang with the kids anymore?” he goads, lips flush against your scalp. 

“It’s exhausting being on the winning team,” you playfully retort, adding in an over-the -top fake yawn to drive home your point. “Not that you would know.”

“Oh, yeah?” He pulls you closer to pepper kisses across your neck and cheek until you’re a giggling mess. Satisfied with his handiwork, he allows himself to sink deeper into the cushions and lets out a yawn of his own. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, gently brushing his curls back so they’re not in your eyes. A hum of contentment escapes you as you fully relax for the first time today. 

You feel a slight nudge on your chin as Eddie tilts it upwards and kisses your lips. The gloss you’d applied before the party is long gone, a casualty of conversation and cake consumption, but he has no complaints. 

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he murmurs, shooting shivers down your spine. “And when I saw you helping Harris? Baby, I just…” he searches for accurate words. Nothing he can think of seems to fully convey the depth of his feelings, but he tries his best. “I’m so fucking lucky. We’re so fucking lucky.”

The feeling of your body against his relaxes him further; a marvelous white noise replaces the plethora of overanalyzed problems constantly buzzing through his brain. The heaviness of sleep falls over both of you, and you shift your body even closer to his in a primitive quest for the safety his presence brings. Whatever show is on the fuzzy TV set is now a dull hum until it’s muted by the dreams your subconscious brings.

Eddie only stirs fifteen minutes later when the bedroom door hinges give a soft squeak, ears trained to pick up on Harris’s innocuous noises that often precede chaos. Grogginess overpowers attentiveness, so he misses the smile on his son’s face and the way he whispers, “my birthday wish is coming true.”

Gray clouds cover Hawkins the next day, drenching the small town in cold rain. And while Eddie is certainly grateful that it’s not snowing, this means that he has to find indoor activities to keep his endlessly energetic son occupied. 

Luckily, Harris is still enamored with his birthday gifts, particularly the stenciling kit you’d given him. He sits at the kitchen table now, tracing an outline of a cow on a Valentine for his classmate. Eddie’s not quite sure of the correlation between the animal and the holiday, but he’s learned that some battles are best left unfought.

 “That looks great, Har Bear.”

“I know.” Harris agrees, not looking up from his drawing as he says, “Daddy, you should make a Valentime for Ms. Sweetheart.” Before Eddie can answer, Harris slides over a piece of red paper and a black marker.

“I should, huh?” Remembering a trick he learned back in elementary school, Eddie folds the paper and draws half of a heart against the crease. He has to use Harris’s blunted safety scissors, much too small for his fingers, to cut the paper. Pleased when he sees that it actually resembles a heart, Eddie taps the marker against his dimpled chin as he contemplates what to write. “You really like Ms. Sweetheart, don’t you?”

Harris nods, putting down the blue marker he’s using and reaching for an orange one. “Mhm. I love her, Daddy.”

Eddie’s heart soars at the confirmation of Harris’s adoration of you, but he tries not to make it obvious. “That’s, uh, that’s good.” He finally decides on a simple message: Be Mine, and he signs his name underneath with a dash. It feels a little less impersonal than “from,” but isn’t as strong as “love.” Do I love her? He wonders. No, it’s only been one date. He can’t fall in love this quickly. It’s not possible. “How’s this? Be mine,” he reads aloud, underlining each word with his finger.

“Oh, I like that.” Harris picks up a green marker and writes the same two words on a pink sheet of paper. The letters are a little too big for the paper’s limited space, and he ends up squishing the “e” in “mine” very close to the edge. “How do you spell ‘mommy’?”

Eddie’s throat goes bone-dry. “You wanna make a card for your mom?” Harris has never wanted to make anything for his mom before; never brought her up, really, but maybe that was changing now that he was in school and surrounded by children with present mothers.

But Harris shakes his head. “No, it’s for Ms. Sweetheart. I wanna write ‘Be Mine Mommy.’”

It takes Eddie a second to realize that Harris means “be my mommy,” and he massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Um, Har, you can’t just ask her to be your mom.”

“Why not?”

He doesn’t want to tell Harris that wants to make sure you’ll stick around, nor does he want to make a promise neither one of you can keep. “Because you…you just can’t, okay?” It comes out harshly, and he sputters to fix his tone when he sees Harris’s lower lip quiver.

“But it’s not fair! You didn’t have a daddy, so you got Grampa Wayne as your daddy. I don’t have a mommy, so I want Ms. Sweetheart as my mommy!”

Eddie flash backs to their zoo trip, when Harris had innocently asked him if Wayne had taken him out on father-son days. There’s no child-friendly way to articulate that Wayne had initially been legally obligated to act as his guardian. “I know, bud. I know you do–”

“Then why can’t I ask her?” His expression shifts from anger to confusion, brows pinching together.

Because she could say no, Eddie thinks. Because the responsibility of being a mommy was too much for your biological mother to handle; why would Ms. Sweetheart take it on? What if she doesn’t have a problem being your mommy, but she finds issue with the idea of being connected to me?

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Look, Har. I know you want her to be your mommy. And between you and me, I’d love for her to be your mommy, too.”

“But–”

“But, grown up feelings are weird sometimes,” he presses on, borrowing your verbiage from Thanksgiving, “and feelings like love take time. But I’m gonna make you a promise right now.” He sticks out his pinky finger. “I promise that if me and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love, I’ll tell you, and I’ll let you ask her to be your mommy. Is that a deal?”

Harris looks dubious, but ultimately hooks his pinky around his dad’s. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief that the crisis has been averted for now.

“Before we can ask her to be your mommy,” Eddie continues, “I need to figure out the perfect Valentine’s Day date to impress her. Wanna help?”

Harris purses his lips in concentration, resting his chin in his hand. “How about McDonald’s? They have a ball pit!”

Eddie has to tuck his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “A definite contender,” he finally manages. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Friday night. Valentine’s Day. 

You had been unsure whether Eddie wanted to do anything for the holiday; your relationship was still so fresh, and you didn’t want him to feel pressured. When he crept into your classroom Monday morning with a coffee and a heart-shaped note—far more conspicuous than he’d intended to be—you couldn’t hide the excitement on your face. 

The card reads Be Mine and currently resides under a magnet on your fridge, finding a home among the plethora of drawings from Harris. It’s got some creases in it that Eddie had explained were the result of Harris shoving it into his backpack that morning. You thought it was perfect as is. 

“Are you free on Friday? For Valentine’s Day?” he’d asked, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. When you answered in the affirmative, he visibly relaxed. “Great. I’m taking you out.” His smile lights up his face. “Wear something that you don’t mind getting messy, and I’ll pick you up at 6.”

You’d wanted to try and pry more information from him, but Carol Perkins and her son Frankie walked in just then, and you’d put away the heart as quickly as you could as Eddie scrambles from the classroom. 

You stand in your bedroom now in your Levis 501s and a fuzzy red sweater, taking one last look at your makeup in the mirror reflection. You scrape your fingernail along the bottom of your lip to wipe off any excess gloss. Underneath your outfit is a special surprise, wishful thinking if the night goes well.

At 5:55, you sling your pocketbook over your shoulder and make your way down to the lobby. You spot Eddie the moment you step out from the elevator. He’s pacing, hands shoved in his dark wash denim pockets and lower lip pinched between his teeth.

Your voice draws him from his thoughts. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him so your stomachs touch. “You look really, really handsome.”

“You’re…you’re beautiful.” He’s almost breathless as he says it, eyes roaming down your body and taking in the view. The way your sweater drapes the slope of your breasts has his heart leaping into his throat. He kisses you slowly before proclaiming, “My beautiful Valentine.”

You reach into your purse and pull out a tiny red gift bag, letting it sway and dangle from your fingertips. “I got you a little something.”

The tissue paper crinkles as Eddie rifles through it to pull out a silver lighter, much heavier in his palm than the usual plastic Bic he uses. “Sweetheart, this is…” He takes a closer look and reads aloud the engraved words etched on the front. “Fill my heart with song…”

“It’s from Fly Me to the Moon. Because of Thanksgiving, when you played the record, and Grandma…” you trail off, not wanting to get choked up, “and because you’re a rockstar. My rockstar.” You kiss his lips again, feeling his palm softly cup your cheek.

“I have something for you, too. Um, I didn’t get to wrap it, but I hope you like it.” He unzips his jacket, exposing the gray t-shirt clinging to his pecs. He digs into the inner pocket and clutches a cassette tape, handwritten label stating,“Ms. Sweetheart’s Mix.”

“‘S nothin’ crazy, just some songs that remind me of you.” There’s an array of genres and artists on there. Guns ‘N Roses, of course, as well as Frank Sinatra. There’s Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me, Un-Break My Heart by Toni Braxton, and a plethora of songs with ‘sweetheart’ in the title: Bob Dylan’s Sweetheart Like You, Bing Crosby’s Let Me Call You Sweetheart, The Spaniels’ Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight. 

Tears prickle along your lash line, and you blink them away before you smudge your mascara. “Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” You hold the gift in two hands, giving it a small shake to emphasize your excitement.

A small pang in his chest has Eddie realizing that he wishes you’d ended that statement with you instead of it, but he tries to shove the thought down by kissing you, tongue parting your lips, hand traveling up your side. His hands aren’t even touching skin, only your sweater, yet it’s so electrifying that you feel your thighs clench in wanting.

“C’mon,” you urge him gently, “let’s go on this date before we end up making out in the lobby all night.”

Eddie cocks his head. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Eddie…” Truthfully, you’re thinking the same thing, but your desire for a romantic Valentine’s Day date with him propels you towards the door. You take his hand so he dutifully follows.

“Fine,” he relents with an exaggerated sigh, smile showing off the soft dimples in his cheeks. “But only because you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, y’know that?”

“Oh, I know.”

Twenty minutes later, Eddie’s car pulls up to The Novice Chef. You’ve never been–taking care of Grandma didn’t allot you much time for hobbies–but Jess has told you about their incredible cooking classes. She and Robin went to one right before Thanksgiving and insisted that they’d perfected the art of turkey basting.

“Figured we could learn how to make pizza since we’re basically funding the local Surfer Boy,” Eddie grins, turning the key in the ignition. The car stills and the two of you unbuckle your seatbelts, pushing open the car doors. “Just, uh, no olives on my half.”

You find an unoccupied cooking station with two aprons on it, the venue’s cursive logo displayed on the front in an eager advertisement. You slip one over your head and Eddie does the same, twirling his finger in a turn around motion. You feel the brush of his fingers on the small of your back as he ties the strings in a bow. After returning the favor for him, you squeeze his waist, giggling when he yelps in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“I dunno; you’re just really squeezable.”

Eddie just shakes his head, already missing your touch after that brief moment. He slides a rubber band down his wrist and ties his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck before slipping his rings off of his fingers. He flexes his hands, almost taken aback by their nakedness, and you suppress a heaving sigh when you catch sight of the protruding veins, dark purple snakes that disappear amongst soft arm hair.

“All right everyone, let’s get started.” The unfamiliar voice brings your attention to the front of the room, where the instructor is standing behind his own station. “My name’s Argyle, and I’ll be your tour guide on our journey through Flavortown.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. “First thing we’re gonna do is knead the dough.” He gives a demonstration and then invites the class to try on their own.

“Damn, that dude has some badass hair,” Eddie muses, noting the man’s long raven locks that are pulled back into a waist-length ponytail. He nods approvingly and flips the silver bowl of dough onto the table. A small puff of flour rises as it hits the surface with a thwack, and you’re very glad you’d heeded his warning not to wear something new.

Eddie presses the heel of his palm into the dough, kneading it with precision. Flatten, stretch, flatten, stretch, until he’s satisfied with the consistency. He shapes it into a thin circle, fingertips digging into the edges to form the crust. The movements are hypnotizing, and it’s not until he clears his throat that you bashfully realize you’ve been staring.

“Y’good, Sweetheart?” A sly, knowing grin stretches from one cheek to the other; now you’re certain that he’s caught you.

“Y-Yeah.”

The next step is to spread the sauce onto the dough, Argyle explains, and Eddie places the crust onto the pan and steps aside so you can take over. You dip the ladle into the pot, filling it to the brim. Bits of dried basil and oregano swim in a red tomato sea as you use the ladle’s base to evenly distribute it across the crust. 

“Y’got a little somethin’ on your face.” Eddie whispers in your ear, making you stop mid-swirl. 

“Huh? Where?” You use the back of your free hand to wipe at your cheeks and chin for any sauce that may have splattered, but a close inspection shows nothing. 

Eddie leans over you, his chest flush against your back. You fight the urge to press the curve of your ass to the seam of his jeans, wiping a sweat-slick palm on your apron. “Right…” he swipes his finger down the ladle’s curved side, catching some sauce and dotting it on the tip of your nose, “here.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t worry; I’ve got it.” He leans over and licks the sauce off, a quick lap of his tongue on your skin. The unexpected sensation makes you giggle louder than you’d intended. You clap a hand over your mouth, surely smudging the gloss, but you’ve already drawn the instructor’s unwanted attention.

“Lovebirds, are we here to flirt or to make pizza?” Argyle punctuates his rhetorical question with an exasperated sigh. You duck your head in shame and Eddie just coughs to stifle his own mischievous laughter.

“All right, now for the cheese,” Argyle continues, dipping a hand into a glass bowl and retrieving the ingredient. “Some people think that ya just pile it on; the more cheese, the better, but there’s an art to–hey, not cool, man!” He’s looking right at Eddie, and you glance over to see your date drop a handful of shredded mozzarella into his open mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbles through a mouthful of cheese, but you’re willing to bet that his apology is anything but sincere.

Argyle rolls his eyes, not even attempting to hide his irritation. “You got one more strike, and then you’re out.” He points one finger at Eddie and then jerks his thumb backwards to emphasize his point.

“Yes, sir,” Eddie salutes, and you elbow him in the ribs.

Once the cheese has been sprinkled across the sauce–whatever remains after Eddie’s impromptu snack, anyway–you reach for the mushrooms. Eddie’s sharp gasp makes you freeze up before you can grasp any.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, placing his flour-coated hands on his hips.

You flick your gaze from the bowl of mushrooms to his impatient face. “Um, putting toppings on the pizza?”

“Not that one, you’re not,” he argues with a disapproving shake of his head. “Vegetables don’t belong on pizza.” He picks up the bowl of pepperoni and starts layering the slices on top, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that some of them stick together in a double layer of cured meat. “This is more like it.”

You nudge him, triumphantly layering mushrooms around where he’s placed the pepperoni slices. “It’s called compromise, Eddie. It’s how relationships work.”

His jaw drops and he places his hand over his heart like a southern belle who’s just been presented with extraordinary gossip. “Oh, this is a relationship?” He snickers when you give him a small shove. “I had no idea. I just thought we were two friends who make out sometimes.”

“God, I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.”

An hour later, stomachs filled with pizza that might rival Surfer Boy’s, you and Eddie return to your apartment. A tense stillness fills the air when he walks you to your door, daring either of you to speak your mutual desire into existence.

You’re the one to break the silence. “I had an amazing time tonight, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” he asks almost incredulously, as though he doubts the truthfulness behind your words. He pushes the insecurity aside with a joke. “Even though I almost got us kicked out?”

The memory brings a smile to your face, though you would imagine that the annoyed instructor would not share the same sentiment. “I still need to get you back for that.” You lick his nose and giggle, knocking his hand away when he lifts it to his face. “Don’t wipe it off!”

“And what if I do?” Eddie takes a step closer, resting one hand on the small of your back and putting the other on your cheek. He kisses you and you lean into it, pressing your body against his. His tongue parts your lips, and you hook a finger into his belt loop as you melt into each other.

“Do you wanna come in? Or do you have to get back home to Harris?” You’ve pulled the trigger. There’s no turning back now, and though you’re certainly in a healthier place than the last time you’d made this suggestion, the fear of a similar reaction has your heart in your chest.

He shakes his head, nose rubbing against yours. “Wayne’s staying with him tonight.” He omits the fact that his uncle was the one who’d offered to babysit overnight, a not-so-subtle hint at his expectations of Eddie’s evening plans.

“All night?”

“All,” he kisses you again, “night.”

You fumble with your keys and unlock the door, Eddie wrapping his arms around your waist from the back as though he never wants to let go. As soon as you get it open, its grimacing creak mere background noise to the pounding in your ears, you’re kicking off your shoes and pulling Eddie into the bedroom.

Your hands on his shoulders pin him against the door, only moving them to the hem of his shirt to begin tugging it over his head. It proves to be a difficult task as you try keeping your lips on his neck, but he wraps his fingers around your wrists and stops you.

“Been dreamin’ about worshiping this body…you,” he clarifies, pupils blown so wide that they overtake his chocolate irises. “Please,” he adds, a slight break in his voice. His begging starkly contrasts the bravado that dominated his personality the night you’d met. There was no patience or tenderness, just teeth clashing and hands searching for the fastest and easiest way to bring pleasure.

You nod. “I have a surprise for you first.” You take off your sweater, drawing it slowly up your torso to build up the anticipation, and toss it to the side.

Eddie goes slack jawed at the sheer mesh bra that leaves nothing to the imagination, just as you’d expected him to. He quickly snaps his mouth shut and swallows, a last-ditch attempt to salvage his machismo before he fully loses his mind.

“It’s a matching set, if you wanna see.” 

“Uh-huh.” Eddie walks over, pressing kisses to your collarbones that leave your knees weak. His thumbs graze your breasts, slipping the bra straps down and unhooking the clasp. It falls to the ground and he stoops a bit, bringing his mouth to one hardening nipple and sucking it before moving onto the other. “Perfect.” He trails kisses down your stomach, dropping to his knees as he does. “Perfect.” He lifts one hand, kissing each individual finger right on the first knuckle. “So perfect.”

He remains on his knees as his nimble fingers, still cold from the brief walk to your building, unbutton your jeans, and you shimmy out of them eagerly. His eyes widen when he sees that your panties do, in fact, match your bra: a red-tinted mesh thong that has everything on display.

“Baby,” he moans, grabbing one ass cheek in each of his big hands and pressing soft kisses to your clothed pussy. “Baby…f’me?”

“All for you, Eddie.” Your breath hitches when you feel his lips graze your most sensitive spot. He’s not intentionally teasing you, but logic has no place in your current state.

He kisses down your thighs. “Lay down f’me, yeah?” You do as he asks, laying your head down on the pillow as your body sinks into the mattress. Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting one knee between your slightly open legs. He brings his lips to your ear, gently biting your earlobe and singing in a low murmur, “got it bad, got it bad, got it bad…”

You giggle, the breath from his whisper tickling the shell of your ear, and you tilt your head slightly so you can see his face. “Can I undress you now?” He nods, and you wrestle with his shirt to expose the pale expanse of skin. There’s a dusting of curls across his chest, thicker in the middle and thinner around his nipples. You plant a kiss on his left bicep and drag your palm down his tummy, practically concave during his teenage years but now has a slight softness to it, stopping when you reach the bulge in his pants. He groans at your touch, and you feel his cock twitch slightly. Eager to alleviate his pent-up energy, you undo the button and tug down his zipper, cupping his erection through his navy blue boxers.

“Not yet,” Eddie mumbles, “not done showing you how much I l–care about you. How much you mean to me.” With a burning in his cheeks from what he’d nearly admitted, he drags your thong, a wet patch formed on it, down your thighs and past your calves until it drops to the ground unceremoniously. He balances your legs on top of his shoulders and pulls himself in closer, nudging your clit with his nose as he licks a stripe up your folds. His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, brushing it with his tongue. Soft brown eyes peer up at you, desperately seeking your approval.

“F-Feels good,” you manage, words caught in your throat as pleasure seeps into your body. “Please keep going.”

Eddie needs no further convincing, reveling in your growing wetness against his face while slipping his middle finger into your pussy. You whimper at the feeling of him inside you, bracing yourself for a comment about how needy you are, but he just continues to draw you closer to your orgasm. His finger glides in and out, in and out, rhythmic but not too slow. The bed shifts ever-so-slightly, and you realize he’s rutting his hips against the mattress, desperate for relief.

Your hand finds purchase in the curls adorning his scalp, digging your fingers into them and giving a small tug. Eddie lets a second finger into your tight hole, curling them upwards and hitting your sweet spot over and over.

“Right there, th-that’s it, please, Eddie,” you beg, your moans barely audible over the sounds of him fervently fingering you and lapping at your cunt. “Fuck, Eddie, ‘m gonna cum!”

Eddie just lets out an “mmm,” in acknowledgment, the vibrations shooting through your core and bringing you right to the edge. Your release overtakes you and your thighs instinctively squeeze against either side of his head. He makes a mental note to ask you not to do that because he absolutely needs to hear every noise you make while you cum.

“Y’good?” he asks as you drift down from the high, still perched between your legs. He wipes his slick-glistened lips with the back of his hand before licking the taste of you from his fingers. “I can keep going, trust me.”

“Need you closer.” You try to sit up, but your legs fail you, and you flop back onto the bed. “I have condoms in the top drawer–”

“Brought my own,” he grins, reaching into his back pocket–now positioned just under his ass from the way he’d dry humped the bed–and pulls out three connected foil packages. “Ribbed, for her pleasure.”

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, but it’s the truth. The way he took care of you, made sure you were okay after, offered to continue eating you out despite the raging hard-on he’s sporting…his chivalry isn't lost on you. You watch as he strips down until his body is rid of any clothing, tearing one wrapper and rolling the rubber down his cock, and you bite your lip in anticipation of its delicious stretch. 

There’s an unspoken disappointment at the addition of the barrier, regardless of its practicality. You want to be as close as you possibly can without anything in the way, but neither of you are in any rush to give Harris a sibling.

Imagine it, though, Eddie can’t stop himself from thinking. Imagine the intimacy of filling her up every night until she’s carrying my baby. Taking any little bit that drips out and stuffing it back inside to make sure it takes. Imagine kissing her growing bump every morning to greet her and our unborn child.

He puts one thigh on either side of yours, looking into your eyes as he asks, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Eddie lines up with your entrance, pushing in gently and keeping his gaze trained on the way you take him in. Inch by inch, he disappears into your wanting hole until he bottoms out. He holds your hips while he finds a steady pace, and as soon as you arch your back, he’s slipping his hands around your waist just above the curve of your ass. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispers. “You make me so fucking happy.”

Your hands grasp at his shoulder blades and you kiss him, tongues intertwining while you moan into each other’s mouths. “I’m always yours, if that’s what you want,” you promise, wrapping your legs around his.

“Of course, that’s what I want. Most beautiful girl in the world, asking me if I want her to be mine.” He grins cheekily, burying his head in the crook of your neck and sucking on it lightly before asking, “do you want me to be yours?”

“Yeah,” you exhale as his cock presses against your walls. “Yeah, I want you to be mine.” You smile, moving your hands to the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss. You want to be the only one he touches like this, the one who goes to bed next to him every night and wakes up next to him every morning. The one who celebrates his wins with him and brings comfort during the losses. You want everything that comes with belonging to each other.

Eddie thrusts into you, pulling wanton moans from your lips. “Say my name,” he pleads. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Eddie,” you pant, not able to fathom a single thought beyond the pleasure you’re feeling and who’s bringing it to you. “Eddie, ‘m so close. You feel too…too good.” Good is an understatement; perhaps a more accurate adjective would be euphoric, but finding a more elaborate term is low on your priority list.

Eddie’s peak is not far behind, with the feeling of your warmth around him bringing him closer every second. “Always wanna make y’feel good, baby,” he says. His face hovers just above yours, a bead of sweat sliding down the bridge of his nose onto the tip of yours. “I gotta–”

“Cum for me, Eddie,” you tell him, and with your permission, he pistons his hips a final time and spills into the condom. Your walls contract around his length as you finish with him.

Eddie stays inside you as the two of you catch your breath, smiling and stealing kisses from each other. He’s never felt anything like this before; for him, the thrill of sex is typically fueled purely by the primal instinct to get laid, but he’s in no rush to let you go. His cock begins to soften and he slowly pulls out, chuckling when you whine at the loss of fullness.

“Gotta toss this,” he says, removing the condom with a soft hiss and tying a knot. “Then I’m gonna hold you, mmkay?” Part of him is waiting for the post-sex adrenaline to wear off and the inevitable crash down when he realizes he’s mistaken lust for passion, urgency for belonging, but that doesn’t happen. As much as he’d love to be inside you again, hearing and feeling your satisfaction as you unravel for him, what he wants more than anything is to lay next to you and keep you safe. Safe from what, exactly, he’s not sure, but something compels him to protect you.

He takes you in his arms, the two of you a tangled, sweaty mess of naked limbs. Perspiration mats his sparse chest hair to his skin, but you press your cheek to it anyway and breathe in his scent. Your body grows heavier as sleep overtakes you, but Eddie’s low voice pulls you back for just a second.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

I love you. The words want to flow freely but come to a screeching halt on the tip of his tongue. It’s only your second date, and his mind is clouded with the sappiness of Valentine’s Day and oxytocin; what if he just thinks he loves you? Or what if he truly does, but you don’t feel the same way? Would you tell him, or would you pretend to reciprocate to spare him the hurt? Which is worse?

I love you. But it’s too soon to feel that, to know it for certain. And if he rushes things, he’ll get Harris’s hopes up–get his own hopes up–only to be met with heartbreak and disappointment.

I love you. And what would that admission accomplish, anyway? Where would you go from there? What would it change?

“Get some rest,” is what he settles on, biting the inside of his lower lip in shame. He kisses your forehead and watches you drift off, grateful when the exhaustion of the evening hits him and he follows suit.

I love you, is his last thought before he falls asleep, but he convinces himself that he’s not ready to speak it into existence. 

--

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

[mandowifey]

Ritual

Miguel O'hara x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, (My)Dark!Miguel, Reader is captive, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, p in v sex, cockwarming, creampie, gentle sex, emotionally needy Miguel, touch starved boy, mention of injury, reader is going through it emotionally, domestic fluff, general softness towards the end. Reader not specified by details or name.

This is part of a nonlinear storyline.

Synopses: Something breaks.

° ° °

There was a natural rhythm you fell into with Miguel.

Home alone, you enjoyed television and movies until the evening. Miguel did not have a normal schedule to adhere to, which meant you did not get the luxury of anticipating his return home. Generally, he was gone from sunrise to sunset. To busy yourself, you offered to make dinner, not because you loved him but the greasy burgers and empanadas from the food court never settled with your stomach.

You would start your preparations around 4:45, then take your time until the inevitable sound of locks disengaging caught your ear. He would walk in and dim the lights - a habit you had assumed was because he was saving on electric, but learned it was actually that his eyes were sensitive to it. That was how you learned about him. Brief, flippant comments here and there that formed a collage of Miguel O'hara; Nueva York's Spiderman.

Sometimes, you daydreamed about being found. Other times, you worried a hole in your lip, considering the realities of running away. Miguel was an apex predator and, most assuredly, would find and punish you for leaving. Certain days when you had too much space in your head, you fantasized about your old life. A job, an apartment, friends, all things you took for granted. The worst days were when you thought about him. Not in fear, but need. The days when you missed him and yearned to be touched. You were only human, it was only natural to crave companionship, even if it was from your captor.

Pain throbs in your palm, and you shout, dropping the pan of mashed potatoes on the counter. You turn to the sink, clutching your wrist and wincing. After running the burn under lukewarm water, you sigh and walk into the bathroom. You apply some ointment from a medkit and gingerly wrap your hand with bandages. Weaving the tan material through your fingers and over your knuckles, you silently scold yourself for such a stupid mistake.

By the time you walk out of the bathroom, the front door is opening. You scramble, carefully opening the oven to take out the roast you made and setting it down on the stove top. "S-sorry, I'm almost done." You grunt, trying to grab plates and wincing from the sting in your palm. The front door closes, and you feel Miguel's looming presence closing in on you. Something grabs your arm and turns you, a large hand closed around your wrist.

"What happened?"

His voice was quiet but tense. The mask crawled down his neck, exposing his pointed expression and vexed brows. "Did you hurt yourself?" There is an emotion in his voice that confuses you. The hand around you loosens as he draws you closer, rich brown eyes scanning your bandage work.

"Just an accidental burn. Wasn't paying attention, is all." Your cheeks burn, feeling like a helpless toddler.

Miguel scoffs, then softens. "You should be more careful." He draws your hand closer and leans in, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm. "Don't need you burnt anywhere else." His lips tug into a grin, and he releases you. Your body was hot all over, and your stomach twisted into knots. This was in response to a man who had done nothing but use you and trap you in his home to play house. You knew it was sick to feel anything other than resentment towards him, but the tenderness in which he looks at you has your heart confused.

"Yeah, of course."

Your arm tingles as he turns away and looks at the scattered pieces of dinner. "You go ahead and sit down. I'll plate everything." Miguel hums as he grabs out silverware and cups. You were compelled to argue, but your mind was still soggy from the kiss. Instead, you wordlessly sit at the little round dinner table, and wait.

The two of you eat in your regular fashion. Light small talk and mostly letting Miguel vent about his day. Today, it was the stress of two anomalies in one universe. You politely nod and give him empathy when the moment calls for it, but your mind is miles away. Miguel compliments your cooking, as was usual, and sends you to bed so he can clean. Knowing what followed, you go to the bedroom and undress before climbing under the blankets. Your mind back to that moment, recalling the way those lovely brown eyes softened before he kissed your hand.

When he returns to you, his suit vanishes as he walks into the shower. He was quick, only gone for moments before returning to you with bis hair slicked back, smelling of familiar body wash and shampoo. You move the blankets for him, and he climbs in beside you.

"You alright?"

There must have been a far away look on your face. You blink and refocus, looking up as he slowly climbs on top of you. Your legs part, and he slots between them where you feel the drag of his half hard cock. "Yeah, just spacey today, I guess." Miguel watches your face, reading you for deception. He closes the distance and kisses you deeply, like he had many times before. His lips part your own before his tongue eagerly slips in. The man groans, rocking his hips to fuck himself against your folds.

A part of you hates how normal this feels. That your life had become something of a ritual. You hated him for what he'd reduced you to; a pathetic shadow of yourself, wet and mewling for him like an obedient whore. This was never what you wanted, yet there you lay with your captor prodding at your cunt.

Brushing your clit with his tip, you jolt. Miguel notices and does it again, smearing dewy precum along you. "Like that?" He rumbles from above. There is a softness to him that brings heat to simmer in your stomach. "Mhm." Your eyes are scanning the blankets, looking anywhere but at him. A tingle in your wounded palm reminds you of the moment in the kitchen. You think about the way his lips pressed the bandages and the sincerity in his dark eyes.

You felt a nagging desire to reach out to him, and you did. Miguel had been ready to spear into you when both your little hands cup his cheeks. His eyes widen, and his movements halt. Tracing your thumbs along the swell of his cheeks, you bring your eyes to look up at him, catching the man off guard. You think he may be angry until he leans into your palms. Those dark eyes of his slowly soften as he melts against you. The change is startling. You'd never seen him so subdued.

Miguel closes his eyes and lets you hold his head up. He mutters something you can't understand, and you feel warmth spread across your limbs. You didn't want to fight it today. You wanted to succumb to him and feel in control, just for a moment. "Miguel," you say his name, softer than you ever had. Brown eyes flutter open and hone predatorially to yours, waiting. "I need you." You couldn't be sure what facet of yourself asked, but you didn't care. Right then, you wanted him, and you would have him.

He is certain he is going to break. Your voice, your hands, the desire in your words. Miguel never thought he'd hear you ask for it, but there you were, and you did. The man never realized how touch starved he was until he found himself drooping against you, eyes heavy and heart throbbing. You could see the pieces of himself crumbling away, those reinforced walls of stone and brick that guarded him, becoming nothing but rubble between you. Something tugs in your chest, and you pull him down to kiss him gently.

"Come here," you whisper, and he obliges. Miguel lays on his forearms over you, his broad chest and narrow hips pinning you to the mattress. You can not help but feel like a stone cast out in the ocean, unable to save yourself as you sink further into the dark. "I've got you." You mumble, petting your fingers through his wild flare of brown locks. Something prods, and you part. Miguel nudges his hips forward and dips the length of his cock inside your warmth, drawing a gasp from you.

When he bottoms out, you push your forehead to his and whimper. Miguel isn't fucking you as he usually does, this time it is slow, methodical, loving. "O-oh, l-like that!" You gasp suddenly, arching your back. The thick tip of his head bruises your gspot on its journey to your cervix. Usually he is brutal, knowing you fought too hard to ever cum. This steady, gentle rocking has you spiraling. Heat builds in your core so fast your head spins. Miguel is watching your face, eyes trained on your soft lips and the way they part when you sigh in pleasure. He lowers his mouth to catch yours, swallowing your intoxicatingly soft cries.

Each press of his hips to yours sends sparks through your abdomen, his stomach pressing your swollen clit as he nudges to his hilt. "M-miguel, Miguel - f-fuck-!" You were building, and send your free hand to grasp at his back. His muscles flex under your palm, and his mouth nips at your ear. "Cum for me," He purrs in a voice like distant thunder. "Cum." Miguel cinches his jaw and bucks unevenly as fire spreads inside you. The both of you choke and groan. He rattles against you and desperately rabbits inside your cunt as he nears his end. You couldn't take it, between his demand and the slow climb of your orgasm, you crumble with him.

Shrieking, you clench down around his cock as he hits against your cervix, milking his length for all he's worth. Your legs tremble, and you find yourself clinging to his neck, puling softly as you rode out your orgasm. Miguel had lost it too, your noises and getting to watch you cum setting him into his own heat. You hear him strain in your ear, his cock throbbing as he spews molten cum inside of you. The heat spreads, and Miguel grinds his pelvis to yours, stimulating your already sensitive clit.

"Hh-ah, p-please." You paw at his hair, near tears from the intensity of the moment. Miguel kisses you again, bumping his nose against your own as he settles to a stop. The two of you are looking at each other now, damp with sweat from lovemaking. You bring your hand to his cheek, then touch along the broad expanse of his jaw, causing him to lean into your palm again.

After a few moments, he settles to lay his head on your shoulder, not bothering to pull out. You wrap his neck with your arms and stare up at the ceiling, listening as he falls asleep.

You think about that sinking stone,

And wonder if you'll ever see the surface again.

[luvinescent]

Stealing Time

Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: Weddings should be an event full of joy and happiness for everyone involved. Especially for the bride and groom, who are the main focal point of it all. So, what is the reason for celebrations if they both have gone missing?

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v, dirty talk, etc.

Word count: 3933

Additional: M/H/N stands for Maid of Honors Name.

A soft melody of a strong quartet could be heard through the air like a soft breeze as more guests continued to arrive. The venue was decorated with fairy lights that cascaded down, a crystal chandelier in the middle of it all, creating an inviting and dreamy atmosphere. The celebratory music pulsated on the dance floor, enticing visitors to sway and swirl in a joyful celebration. The air was filled with laughter and lively discussions that mixed with the sound of glasses clinking as toasts were being offered in honor of the newlyweds.

The only problem was that neither one of them were present in the room.

Catelyn Stark, mother of the groom, stood scanning the room next to the wedding planner— a young girl who looked to be on the verge of pulling out her hair. Catelyn could hear the small anxious mutters of “we’re off schedule now” as the girl kept analyzing the clipboard she held in her hand. Excusing herself from the girl and her husband, Catelyn went towards the hallways connecting to the venue. She was stopped in her travels by a distant relative on her husbands’ side, smiling at the old man.

“Catelyn!” he greeted heartily. “Where is that boy of yours? I haven’t seen him or the new Mrs.”. He let out a great laugh, holding onto his rounded beer belly for support. Catelyn returned the laugh, nodding at his question, “I was just about to go get him. I’ll be right back”.

She turned around; the sound of her heels clicking on the shiny floor echoed, causing any guests in her path to quickly shift aside. Catelyn walked with a confident stance, her chin up, shoulders back, and a big smile covering her face. A smile that was very deceiving and Jon Snow knew this when she came faced with him.

“Where is your brother?”

He stared wide eyed at her, caught off guard by her presence and her question. His face was a ballet of nervousness, revealing the false confidence he was trying so hard to keep up. “I-I, uh… I don’t know...”, Jon shrugged his shoulder, wincing a little at the look she gave him. Catelyn smacked her lips, grabbing a hold of Jons ear, “Don’t lie to me. Where is Robb? The nerve of that boy! Disappearing at his own wedding, and you covering for him. I thought I raised you both better than this!”. The entire time, the bride’s maid of honor had stood next to Jon, witnessing him get a scolding from his mother, but Catelyn could care less about his embarrassment. Before Catelyn could continue her interrogation, she was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice within her distance. “Have you seen Y/N?”.

Turning around, Catelyn saw the mother of the bride asking a family member before she turned and saw her. “Oh, Cat!”, the mother rushed towards her, “Have you seen my daughter? I can’t find her anywhere”.

Putting back on that wide smile, Catelyn turned her head to Jon and the maid of honor. “What a coincidence. I can’t seem to find my son either.”

The two looked like deer’s caught in headlights. Both their words jumbled out fast, inaudible to the human ear. Thinking fast, M/H/N leaped into action, her words both a hasty attempt and holding a somewhat truth to them. “Y/N went to go change from her wedding gown to her reception dress”. Jon nodded vigorously in agreement at her explanation, “A-And Robb wanted to change his shoes”. M/H/N whipped her neck and gave Jon a glare, his add on not helping as Robb did not bring extra shoes. Y/N’s mother did not have time to question any of what they said—being brisked away to go greet a great aunt.

Catelyn stood in front of the two adults once again. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by their statements.

“Y/N went to go change?”

“Yes”, M/H/N said instantly.

“And Robb went to go change his shoes?”

“Yes”, now it was Jon.

“…and they went together?”

“…yes”, they both replied. Humming to herself, she continued observing them, knowing very well they were hiding something. “How long ago did they leave?”. They once again exchanged looks with one another, face flushed with embarrassment, “Uh, not that long ago…they’ll be here soon”. Catelyn’s skepticism deepened, her eyes darting from M/H/N awkward performance to Jon’s increasingly guilty expression. Letting out a sigh and rubbing her temples, she turned to return to the party, “Fine”.

With one hand tangled in his auburn curls, you panted against Robb’s lips, “mm you’re insane”. Robb chose to ignore your words, his lips choosing to instead attack your neck and his fingers gripping hard on your thigh— surely to leave bruises come morning. Craning your neck back for more easy access, you tried reasoning, “they’re probably looking for us now—“. You couldn’t even finish your sentence, his cock having thrusted into your walls so deep it left you gasping for air, “f-Fuck, Robb!”

He groaned against your neck, his hips moving in rhythm against yours, “Who cares what they’re doing when I get to have you like this to all to myself”.  You almost bit your tongue when his hand slipped between the two of you, fingers rubbing at your sweet spot, “Fuck, I love it when you moan my name”.

It was almost close to an hour ago when your maid of honor took you to change out of your wedding dress into your reception dress. Coming out of the dressing room, you were met with both your newly brother-in-law and newly husband. While M/H/N and Jon engaged in some conversation about the band arriving soon, Robb and you took to wrapping each other up in arms. With a huge grin on his face, he planted small kisses all over your face, “My gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, wife”. Laughing at how his stubble tickled against your face, you laid your palm up against his cheek, “Aye, watch the makeup”, quickly giving him a kiss on the lips before pulling away and looking into his blue eyes, “but thank you my very handsome, good-looking, very very very attractive husband”. You two shared a moment of silence and intense gaze before you both broke out in giggles, capturing each other’s lips in one another, moving tendering and deeply. Pulling away, Robb stared down at you, both love in his eyes but also a hint of something else.

“You know you really do look gorgeous. You look equally as beautiful in this dress as you did in your wedding dress”. You thanked him once again but gave him a puzzled look when he said he had other opinions, however.

“And what other opinions are those?”, you said, smiling while waving at a cousin who just entered the building. Turning back to Robb, you noticed the way his eyes had slightly shifted in emotion; something more carnal behind them. Bending down his head towards your ear, he whispered softly, “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have you naked with my head between your thighs”. His voice brought chills up your spine as he blew a soft gust of air on your earlobe before going back to height. Biting your lip and playing with his tie, you titled your head to the side and chuckled softly “You would, huh?”. His only reply was a nod, watching your every move like hawk and gulping as your fingers started to trail along his neck now. Robb was being unfair; he knew just how much his words had an effect on you. But yours did too. Bringing him down by his tie, you’d thought best to return his teasing—fighting fire with fire.

Slowly, you leaned up, “…I want you inside of me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now”. You could hear his breath hitch behind his closed mouth. Both of you were once again stuck in an intense stare down, this time only desire and want in your gazes. You were quick to fix yourself up, distancing yourself a bit from Robb and plastering on an innocent smile as more guests arrived, “Hi. Thank you for coming”. You snickered to yourself; feeling Robbs eyes on your back as he hadn’t moved a single inch from his spot. Jon and M/H/N ended their conversation and turned to face you both, nodding their head in the direction of the main area, “Alright, let’s get going”.

You took one single step before Robb came up behind you, grabbing you by your forearm and pushing you towards his chest. “Actually”, he started, “Y/N told me her dress is bothering her”. M/H/N had stepped up, examining you from head to toe, “Oh, let me help— “. Robb had interrupted her by raising his hand and shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I got it. Besides, we want to spend some quiet time together, don’t we babe?”. Looking up at him, you quickly assessed the situation and nodded along, “R-right, yeah. We’ll be right back. You guys go and have fun. Who cares about us anyways.”

Jon and M/H/N didn’t have time to argue back— the new couple running down the halls of the building, hand in hand with laughter being echoed throughout it. Jon tsked his tongue, shouting at his brother and sister-in-law who were still in view, “What do you mean who cares about you guys?! This is your wedding!”. They both turned to flip Jon off, turning the corner and disappearing to the next connecting hall. Sighing, Jon rubbed his face as M/H/N came to stand next to him in silence.

“You know there was nothing wrong with her dress”. “… Yeah”.

And that’s how you found yourself with Robb in some random office room in the building of your wedding reception. Robb’s patience was running low as he pushed you up against the wall and against the corner of what some seemed to be some bookshelf. Both your lips hungrily going at each other very frantically. A loud moan was swallowed by his mouth when his fingers went down, pushing your panties to the side and starting to play with your wet folds and opening. Wasting no time, you trailed your hands down towards his belt, quickly trying to undo it. Robb pulled away entirely from you, using the distance to unbutton a bit of his dress shirt and to take off his belt. Breathing heavily, you grabbed him back down by the neck for another kiss, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue. Pulling away, you raised an eyebrow at Robb with a smirk present on your face and his lips darkened and wet with saliva, “I’m almost positive this kind of tradition is reserved for tonight. You know, after the reception, not during”. Robb laughed slightly, pushing up against you and grabbing a hold of your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist while the other stood for balance. His other hand was used to bunch up the fabric of your white party dress and to pull down one of its straps. “What can I say”, he bit along your neck, “you’re just so damn beautiful. So damn sexy. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold myself back when I saw you walking down that aisle”. His lips returned to yours. This kiss was messy with teeth almost clashing and tongues fighting. Both your hands were everywhere they could be felt; his on your thighs, ass, hips, breasts, and yours on his chest, neck, and back. Pulling away, Robb looked at you from head to toe and gave you a teasing smile, “And what’s all this?”. With both your body movements and clothes shifting, Robb had finally taken noticed of the white lace lingerie you had underneath the entire time of both your wedding dress and your reception dress. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a pointed look, “It was supposed to be for tonight. Way to ruin the surprise”.  He pouted mockingly at you and let out a small chuckle, kissing your forehead before his previous lustful look returned, “We can keep it on for now. And for tonight, I’ll just pretend it’s my first time seeing it”.

The way he spoke and stared at you had sent something straight to your burning core and had made you shifted closer to him unconsciously. “Such a gentleman”, you spoke running a thumb along his bottom lip and started kissing him again. With his belt already undone, it only took a few seconds to push down his clothing layers just enough to free his cock. As a brief warning, sliding your panties to the side, he slid his tip through your wet folds for a couple seconds. The whine you let out was all he needed before he pushed entirely inside you. You gasped loudly and screwed your eyes shut as Robb gave you a few seconds to adjust to the sudden fullness. Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip, “Don't be gentle with me—I like it when you're rough”. Robb wasted no time, gripping your thigh and fucking deeply into you, “Ah, fuck”, he moaned out, “you feel so fucking good. My good girl. My fucking wife”. He moved his lips along your collarbone, groaning and biting down. “Mm, fuck” you muffled out as your pussy clenched around his hard cock with every thrust he made. Robb took a second to look down, watching the way you took him in and your sleek and arousal that coated him every time he reentered. He was in heaven. Looking back up, you stared at Robb whose pupils were dilated in rapture with a little sweat coating his forehead. You probably looked the same to him as well. Your standing leg was starting to lose balance, causing you to slightly shift. Robb was quick to grab a hold of you, causing the tip of his cock to hit your most sensitive spot and just what he was looking for. “Hmm!”, you moaned out, “fuck Robb, right there!”, you truly felt like you were seeing stars. He started to fuck into you even faster and harder, increasing his movements, your pussy clenching even more, indicating your release. Eyes rolling back, you let your head fall back against the wall as you let out a mixture of curse words, moans, and Robbs’ name. Your body filled with warmth and pleasure, trembling as Robb held onto you and continued trying to reach his own climax. His movements were starting to get sloppy; you knew he was reaching his dissolve soon. However, he had to stop his movements abruptly; the doorknob to the room shaking vigorously.

Despite having locked the door beforehand, it was Robb’s natural reflex to reach over and hold onto the knob. At the same time doing so, he had let out a groan, and you a squeak as he slightly pushed you with his body. You were caught off balance but were able to hold onto the corner of the bookshelf, giving Robb a glare while he raised his finger up to his lip.

“Is somebody in there?”

Both your eyes widened in mutual shock; mouths agape as you two exchanged a horrified glance. You both recognized that voice as Robb’s Aunt Lysa.

She started banging harshly on the door now, “I know that someone is in there. I can hear you! This is a private event! If the cops need to be called, I have no problem- “.

“It’s me Aunt Lysa”, Robb spoke out, slightly cringing. Your face was flushed red; both because of your current activities and because of shame. Looking down, Robb’s left hand still had your thigh wrapped around his waist and his cock still buried inside you.

“Robb?”, Lysa questioned, “Is that you? Your mother has been looking everywhere for you! What are you doing in there?”

Robb gave you a once-over before clearing his throat, “I’m just…changing”. Your grip on the shelf was losing itself, causing you to readjust and move — which caused you to slightly sink down onto Robb’s cock. He was quick to bite his lip to stop the moan coming from his mouth, almost drawing blood in the process. Robb knew you too well and covered your mouth with his hand, knowing you would do the same. The only probably was that he wasn’t as quick.

“Now, hold on,” Lysa loudly said from the other side of the door, “I can hear another person in there and it sounds like a woman. Robb Stark you may be my nephew but I swear to God if you’re doing what I think your doing - “

“It’s me Mrs. Arryn”, you finally spoke out too. There was a moment of silence from the other end before Lysa started speaking again, “Oh, Y/N. Of course… Your mother was also looking for you…”. There was some awkwardness to her tone as you tried your best to clean up the situation, “I’m just changing too. Robb’s helping me”. Another awkward silence passed, “Of course he is…”. You and Robb gave each other a side glance; it was clear she didn’t believe you two and knew what you two were really doing. “Well”, Lysa began, “I best let you two get back to uh…changing…oh, um, where are the bathrooms?”. Robb was the one to answer her question, “On the other side of the building”. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you could hear the distant sound of her heels from the other side before she was gone entirely.

Turning back to Robb, you slapped his chest, groaning into your hands, “Ughhhh, that was so embarrassing”. He only laughed, making you peek at him from the gaps of your fingers. “What are you laughing at? You heard her; our parents are looking for us, so we better go”. Robb’s only response was to kiss you sloppy, pushing back once more inside you. You gasped into his mouth, his tongue playing with yours. Robb then pulled out of you completely, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness. Grabbing you by the forearm, he dragged you towards the desk in the room, bending you over it, pushing your dress up and your panties down— exposing yourself fully to him. He caressed your ass before smacking it hard; making you huff, “Let them wait a few more minutes”, his fingers played along your glistening folds. Standing up behind you, he pushed himself back into you, thrusting in, and out, and in again. Each time rougher than the other as he stretched out your cunt. Grabbing ahold of your hair and arching your back for him, he spoke into your ear, “This is our special day, isn’t it?”. Your only answer was a loud moan, his fingers being placed in your mouth to suck on. “Besides, I’m not fully done with you”.

About twenty minutes later (some of which took up of M/H/N fixing your makeup and concealing your bite marks), you and Robb entered the main room holding arms. Guests were raising their glasses up to you in cheers— some already clearly starting to get tipsy. A close friend of yours came up to you both, hugging you and giving you your congrats while Robb shook hands with her boyfriend. Once they pulled away and moved aside, you both had clear sight across the room of the one person who was looking for you two the most: Catelyn Stark. To make matters worse, she was also conversing with her sister; both whispering and giving you two the side eye.

“Crap” both you and Robb said in unison, watching Catelyn with her wrath make her way towards you. Your sight was cut off by the wedding planner standing stressed and tired in front of you, “Okay, we can get back on schedule if we just follow with the original plan. Bride, it’s time for the father-daughter dance”. Your ears perked up at the familiar sound of the music you had chosen for this occasion and turned to see your dad already on the dance floor. Turning back to Robb, you gave him a sheepish smile, “Would you look at that… gotta go”. He was quick to grab a hold of your hand, “You can’t leave me. You vowed to be with me through anything”. Pulling your hand back, you raised both hands up in defense, “I had my fingers crossed when I said that”.

Seeing his pouted puppy look made you laugh, quickly blowing him a kiss, “I’m kidding. I love you”, turning to go dance with your father. Robb didn’t even have to turn around— already feeling his mother’s presence behind him. Wrapping arms with him, many passersby would see the scene as a mother coddling her son. But Catelyn was actually pinching Robb’s side, and hard. “You are so vulgar I swear. At your own wedding Robb, really? You couldn’t wait until after?”, she spoke through gritted teeth.

Robb winced a little at the pain, but his eyesight was also focused on you. Smiling and laughing with your father. “Why are you getting only me in trouble? Y/N was equally in on it”. Catelyn could only roll her eyes at her sons’ immature response, “Please, knowing you and knowing her it was probably all your doing”. Staring up at him to continue her scolding, she stopped momentarily at the look in her sons’ eyes. Following his line of vision, she was meet with you. A tender smile graced Catelyn lips. Nothing short of captivating was the way he gazed upon you. His unspoken proclamation of love seemed to go beyond words, and his eyes radiated an undying commitment. “Are you happy?”, she asked Robb. The song was coming close to the end. Robb turned to face his mother, a stern look on his face and nothing but seriousness was his tone, “Yes. I am”. From the corner of his eye, Robb could see your father leading you to him. Standing up higher, Catelyn gave him a quick peck on the forehead, “Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted”. You and your father came face to face with the both of them, Catelyn giving you a peck on the cheek and your father handing you over to Robb, “She’s all yours’ son,” he patted his shoulder, “take care of her”.

Robb led you to the dance floor where the band had started to play a slower and more romantic song. Swaying to the tempo, you spoke up, “So, was she angry?”. Robb let out a small chuckle, smiling down at you. “She was,” he began, “but she said she’d forgive us if we gave her a grandchild”. Staring at him agape, you slapped his chest with a small gasp, “She did not say that!”. Now you both were laughing. The world around you two seemed to fade into a soft blur as you moved, lost in the embrace of your love. Resting your head against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I love you”, Robb spoke up, his hand tenderly placed on the small of your back. Sighing deeply, inhaling his scent and allowing yourself to bask in his warmth, both of you feeling safe in each other’s embrace, you let him know your feelings, “I love you too”.

Enjoying the moment's beauty, you both stayed in each other's arms as the music softly faded into the night. You both understood that this dance was only the start of an endless journey together.

[cyberrose2001]

Alright I'm gonna do it

Might I request a TFP Optimus x fem human Reader? It can be soft/loving, rough/intense, kinky or vanilla, or some combination of those - whatever you prefer and are comfortable with!

I just like that sweet handsome mech to be subby and vocal :P

TFP Optimus x Fem!Human! Reader

Is it 2am? Yes

Am I gonna pass out after posting this? Hell yea

I hope you enjoy some subby Optimus!!

Warnings: dom/sub, prem-ejaculation, mentions of masturbation

Word count: 1,233

Soft fairy lights illuminate the cold room, which you convinced Optimus to put up for you since sharing a berthroom, flickering like candlelight across two bodies. It would be a reasonably innocent scene if not for the wet sounds of tongue meeting glossa. Not uncommon for you and Optimus, but the mech expressed an unconventional desire of his. And it was anything besides innocent.

He thought about it constantly, like something in his circuits had been re-wired into becoming entirely devoted to being dominated by a human, by you. The thought excites him so much that he's self-serviced to it multiple times before ever bringing it up with you. And he's ashamed to admit that he was embarrassingly quick with it, hoping you wouldn't find it pathetic for a bot of his nature.

But thank Primus, you were willing.

Optimus lets out a breathy moan into your mouth, his servos pawing desperately at your hips as you hover over him. Much like a cat to a soft pillow, the mech finds comfort and sensuality in how your skin gives in under his touch. It excites him like no other Cybertronian has and has remained that way since first laying a digit on you.

His breath hitches as he feels your soft lips trail down his chin, light flicks of your tongue leaving a wet trail towards his neck cabling. It's like you're tasting him as if you cannot get enough of him, and the mere thought of that causes him to tilt his helm to the side and let out a deep groan. It's what he craves to feel; it's what he desperately needs.

As you're licking and sucking at the sensitive machinery, Optimus' grip tightens on your hips. His spike is painfully erect, gorged, and angry as he urges you to sit on him. He feels your smile against his neck, causing his spike to jump in anticipation.

"Oh, honey," You tease, your voice deep and husky as you bring a hand to grip his chin, forcing him to look at you, "You're this desperate already?"

Optimus feels like he's stopped breathing, your bright, glowing eyes instantly capturing his attention. The mech considered himself an artist of patience, as patient as the persistence of a star's glow. But when the artist's object of his desires is right on top of him, stark naked and bathed in the light of his blue aura, his patience wears thin like an empty paint tube. He wants you; he needs you to squeeze him for all he's worth.

"Please," Optimus shakily whimpers, pushing you down onto his aching spike, "I need this, I need you... badly."

His gentle yet needy tone sends a shiver down your spine, adding to the thrill of having Optimus right where you wanted him. Though a rare sight indeed, watching Optimus unravel beneath you as you slowly grind his spike through your slick folds evokes a hunger for dominance.

"Oh yeah?" You gasp as the ridges run along your clit, and your hands find the rim of his windshield, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Optimus' engines roar at your words, his frame heating up like a boiler. His intake agape as you grind on him a bit harder, precum already dripping onto his abdominal plating, "Yes, Primus, yes."

A breathless giggle escapes from your lips, "Oh, big boy," leaning to whisper against his dermas, "You're so sweet, but you know better."

Optimus whines, "Please," half-babbling, half-focused entirely on how close his spike is to slipping inside you. He's come to know and crave that warm, slick part of you. He could map out every inch of your insides and would still want to get lost in it, "Fuck me..."

You bite your lip softly at his pleading swear. Hearing him use human profanity is different, but it sends another shiver through you. You allow yourself one last drag of your hips before going in for the kill, "That's a good mech..."

Eyes focused on his optics, you sink onto his thick spike, inching slowly until your ass meets his thighs. Optimus lets out a sharp gasp, and you watch as his face contorts into one of pure, unfiltered ecstasy. His digits dig into your thighs, his desire to be entirely under your beck and will for your pleasure evident in his actions. His frame remains stagnant, waiting for you to use him as you please.

You allow yourself a moment to adjust, closing your eyes as you indulge in the full feeling of him seated inside you. The way his cock throbs flush against your walls in yearning, how you can feel your tummy bulging slightly. It's always an adjustment with Optimus' spike; even as he's mass displaced, it pricks tears in your eyes. But you're a highly trained size queen. And Optimus is your jester for tonight, fulfilling his desire to be under your control.

Picking your hips up, you come down on him hard, moaning a chorus as you set a brutal pace for yourself. With each grind of your hips, you see stars. And you know Optimus is experiencing a similar high because each moan he tries to make gets stolen each time you slam down on him, his voice coming out in sharp grunts.

"There you go..." You moan, tightening your grip on his windshield as you bounce persistently. Your thighs start to burn, and you start to get winded, "Just let- just let me take care of you, baby."

Optimus nods languidly, wholly engulfed in you. Every time his hips connect to yours, he lets out a sharp gasp and hisses as you unsheath yourself far too soon. He dares to look down where you connect, nearly overloading at the sight. His daring human, unmercifully taking her pleasure from his spike, engulfing him over and over again, using him like a toy. He lazily rakes his optics back up your overworking body, gazing at the way your flesh jiggles, how your breasts have a mind of their own, and how good it would feel to have them in his face for the rest of eternity.

And with a million and one different pictures of you in his mind and how you've clenched around him so tightly, Optimus grips your hips painfully hard and presses his spike deep. A long, quivering groan leaves his dermas as he overloads prematurely, his spike throbbing and flooding your insides, pouring every single fantasy in his love-sick mind into you.

"Optimus!" You choke on his name, not expecting the gush of transfluids so early, but your body embraces it, and you come hard onto his spike with him, grinding your hips to lengthen both your orgasms, "Fuck~."

Optimus keels forward, moving his arms to your waist, and tightly pulls you flush against him, letting your pussy milk him dry. He buries his helm into your neck, mumbling and blabbering lewd nonsense into your sticky skin. After hearing a soft apology, you decide to reciprocate, whispering his praises the way he likes it. He hangs onto you desperately as he comes down from his overload, his frame jolting in the aftershocks.

"Did such a good job," You mutter, kissing the side of his helm. You caress his chassis soothingly, letting him melt into your embrace, "What a good boy."

He might be a lot deeper in it than he thought.

[sturnlovaa]

°•. IMAGINE — Christopher Sturniolo overstimulating you like a teenage boy

cw.. profanity, unprotected p n v, stomach bulge, nipple play, overstimulation (obvi), oral fixation, oral (fem receiving).

the room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and hushed moans, Chris finding himself grow increasingly more insatiable with every passing moment. he hungrily watched as your head tilted back in ecstasy, your lips parted wide open with his fingers filling the space. the sight making him drool.

he felt a surge of arousal in his lower body, thrusting up into your sore and puffy cunt once over. his hands for sure leaving marks with how firmly he held onto your waist, possessively. this wasn't the time for slow and gentle, this was raw and filthy.

you feel his hand sneak down to grope at your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he pulled you back onto his cock— making you cry out at his forceful gesture, a mix of pain and pleasure as you were bent in an unnatural position.

he pulled his fingers from your mouth— a string of saliva connecting the two of you before he broke it when running his saturated fingers over your nipple.

you grunt against him, a sound that was more animal-like than human as you arch your back, taking him deeper before thrusting back onto him the best you could in your position; creating a light bulge in your lower tummy. he chuckled against you, a deep sound that was filled with a base desire.

you find yourself groaning in frustration when he abruptly pulled out. you were so close, and you knew he knew that.

it wasn't until he dropped your legs, spinning you around to bend you over a nearby table all in a swift move that you realized he wanted to go deeper, wanted to accelerate his thrusts. he aggressively spread your legs, positioning himself between them— being sure to slap your ass before shoving himself back into you causing you to hiccup and tense, a moan getting stuck in your throat.

the sound of his hips smacking against you resonated around the room once more. his pace was rough, almost violent as he fucked you into the table, leaving it to shake underneath you.

you gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. you were so close to the edge, but he held you back with every stroke, holding out as long as he possibly could before finally releasing inside of you. you cried out again, it not taking long before you came as well, drenching his cock with your orgasm. your body visibly relaxing underneath him as you rode out your high.

he slipped out of you, causing you to whine softly at the loss of his warmth. he let out another breathy chuckle as he pulled you up off of the table, knowing you were too fucked out to function at a normal pace. so with a little help, he sat you comfortably onto the table— wasting no time to make himself secure between your legs.

he sucked and licked at your hypersensitive clit, making you twitch again and again in the wake of your orgasm. he watched you with a predatory gaze as you bucked your hips against his mouth, “c-chris— enough,” you breathe out in a broken moan. attempting to push his head away.

he ignored your protests though, his tongue delving deeper to lap at your sensitive nub. his fingers gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he continued his relentless assault. you had begun to quiver, your muscles tensing in preparation for yet another release.

he could tell you were close— your body trembling, cheeks flushed, struggling to keep up with your next breath. he sucked on your clit again, flicking his tongue, and it was more than enough to push you over the edge. your juices flowing out onto his tongue.

Chris licked you clean, before slipping out from between your legs. he wiped at his chin before standing up-right, giving you a knowing look as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, “slut,” he whispered in the process. a small smile forming on your lips as you lean into him.

©sturnlovaa

[teratosfavouritesnack]

Hi can you do a part 2 of the ghost lover boy? Like Y/n is being repeatly being bratty and the ghost starts punishing her but of course she cant see him because he's invisible?

Hiii dear, thank you for your request and sorry for the late reply! I already had half an idea how to continue this story but I tried to mix it with your suggestion. Hopefully you like it 💜

ghost x afab!human - bratty behaviour (kinda), ghost creature doing ghost things, p in v, mirror sex, use of ghost hunting tools, it talks!!! :o

ORIGINAL POST <-

You were wrong. The ghost was no lover boy, just a prankster through and through.

You don’t know exactly how you expected the dynamic to evolve after the events of that day, but you certainly didn’t think it would change so drastically and… not really for the better.

Has this been its intention from the very start? To harass you, play with you and your emotions until you surrendered and offered yourself to it , only to then take it all away? Has it only been having some fun with you and did not in fact care about you at all?

You wish you had an explanation for its sudden disappearance, but you don’t. And you’re so upset about it. So upset that you can’t find peace in your own four walls, because everything makes you think of it and all its stupid pranks. So upset, you can’t even find pleasure in touching yourself anymore because you can’t fuck your cunt the same way its fingers have, you can’t recapture that tingly, almost electricity-charged pressure you felt inside you when it pounded your hole with its hand, no matter how much you attempt to.

You’re losing your mind. It can't just give you a taste of something so delicious and addicting and then take it away a second later! It’s not fair! You need to catch its attention again, try however you can. You exasperate the things that always induced it to harass you; unashamedly bending over the furniture and waiting for it to grind against you, pushing your ass in the air as much as humanly possible whenever you’re doing the laundry, spending a longer time in the shower box hoping it would join you, walking naked around the house more times than not to give it easy access to every inch of you… You do anything to get it to touch you again but nothing seems to work. It’s as if it has completely vanished, as if it’s gone for good from your house. But somehow, you know it ’s still there. You can feel it. Watching you. Maybe laughing at you, at how desperate you look and act. It ’s mocking you, you’re sure.

Resentment merges with desperation, pushing you to buy some of those fancy gadgets paranormal investigators use on their hunts. You place sensors throughout the house and always carry a spirit box on you. You’ll catch its invisible and elusive ass one day or another, you’re sure! To what end? You don't truly know. You didn't think things through. Perhaps you just want to take a win over the ghost, instead. Annoy it, as it has done to you. But as the days pass, the sensors don’t pick up any signal, the spirit box is dead silent and you feel bluer than ever. All is calm...

Until it isn’t.

You invite people over, something you learnt in the past the ghost does not like in the slightest. But the ghost isn't around anymore, is it? You have no reason to be concerned about what it likes or not.

Except you have, because it is still here. Hiding so well from all your stupid tools. Pissed off by their presence, yet even more by the strangers you allowed inside its home. Especially that one fool who seems to orbit around you like a moth to a flame. It hasn't been this displeased in ages, and it can't keep itself hidden any longer. It needs to reclaim its possessions.

The sensors go off all at once, causing everyone to jump in their seats. You told your friends about your haunted house before, but no one believed you; now they all do as the lights go crazy and all kinds of trash is thrown in their faces, forcing everyone to rush to the exit.

Everyone except you.

You’re shocked… but also delighted. You secretly wished something like this might happen. You hoped that disregarding its desires would lead to retaliation. And when you feel that familiar thrilling touch on you again, oh you are ecstatic! Its grasp is a little rougher this time, as it grabs you around the waist and drags you all the way to your bedroom. All the way in front of your large mirror, where you watch your clothes come undone, ripped by unseen fretting hands. Where you can see one of your legs pulled off the ground and your hole stretched open by... nothing. It's mind-boggling to feel so stuffed while being unable to gaze upon the thing that makes your sensitive walls throb so desperately. When it starts to move, you realize it is the ghost who's inside you, with its cock swallowed to the hilt by your cunt. The sensation is unbelievable, so blissful, and unlike anything you've ever experienced before. You don't have any words to describe it. And even if you did, you'd forget all of them. Your mind goes blank when you feel its hand seize your jaw and turn your head downward, forcing you to stare at your hole spreading open and shrinking again as it pushes its length all the way into and then out of you in slow but deep thrusts.

Is this a punishment? Is this a reward? Is this a way to claim you as its own? To make you realize that it is in charge.That it can toy with you anytime it wants, and you have no say in the matter. Whatever does this mean... You do not care. You only care about the pleasure rising in your lower belly, the heat pervading your entire body, the exquisite pressure you feel in your womb as its cock finds that precious spot deep inside you, with one arm wrapped possessively around your waist and the other keeping your leg up.

You’re so out of it, so lost in seeking your release that your ears almost bypass the robotic beep coming from your pants, sprawled at your feet. However, the disembodied voice that follows reverberates through your entire being, instantly pushing you over the edge with a muted scream.

"Pretty. . . . Cunt. . . . All. . . . Mine. . . . . Taking. . . . Me. . . . So. . . . .Well. . . . . Made. . . . For. . . . Me."

You hope it will never leave you again, but if it does... Well, now you know how to make it come out again.

 🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[my-castles-crumbling]

Not Jealous

@wolfstarbingo2024 - prompt: enemies to lovers - warnings: mildly explicit (is that a thing?) - rating: explicit (minors DNI) - words: 923 - link

Sirius Black was the most horrible, annoying, disrespectful roommate on the planet. Since Remus had started living with him three months ago at the start of University, Sirius had irked him to no end by leaving his things all over their space, staying up until ungodly hours playing videogames, bringing back more people than he could count to sleep with, and being the most attractive human on the goddamn planet.

Well- the last one might not be annoying per se. But wrapped in with the others, it was the most infuriating of all.

So when Remus stayed up until 2am writing a paper that took most of his brainpower and all of his patience, Sirius stumbling in with a tall tan man with dark hair, giggling together, was the last fucking straw.

"Sirius I don't give a single flying fuck if you want to fuck this guy in his room or on the roof," Remus said lowly, hands balled into fists, "But you will not fuck him in our room."

The man, who looked like he had stuck his finger in a light socket with the way his hair stood on end, immediately laughed. "I'd rather not fuck either of you if I have the choice, man. Regulus would be a bit pissed."

Sirius laughed as well, starting to retort, but Remus was still too mad to enjoy whatever inside jokes they were sharing. "Just get the fuck out, alright?"

And the other boy, who didn't seem to be capable of seriousness or remorse, simply bid Sirius goodnight and left, yelling loudly as he went.

But as soon as he left, Sirius turned, his face falling flat. "What the fuck made you think you can act like that?" he asked, storms in his eyes.

But Remus was done. "Me? What about you? Treating our room like your personal trash can, staying up until all hours, bringing back god knows how many people to fuck you?"

But Sirius only smirked at Remus's last statement. "Wow, Remus. I didn't realize me hooking up with people had that much of an impact on you. Are you jealous?"

Remus felt blood rush in his ears at the question, and he used all of his sense to resist punching Sirius. "No, Sirius," he denied through a clenched jaw. "I'm not-"

But Sirius interrupted him, taking a step closer. "It's too bad if you're not," he said softly, his eyes going strangely wide. "Jealousy looks kind of good on you." And as he said it, he kind of tilted his head to the side, smirking and biting his lip as if challenging Remus to react. To understand what he was saying.

It was like a bomb went off. Like all of the annoyance and fury and tension built up and culminated into an eruption, and suddenly, without even thinking about it, Remus lunged forward, grabbing Sirius and pinning him to the bed behind him, the entirety of their bodies pressed together, his mouth by Sirius's ear, the other man gasping at the quick contact. "I'm not jealous," Remus insisted, hands grabbing at Sirius's hips hard.

"P-prove it," Sirius nearly moaned, eyes wide and pupils blown with sudden lust.

So Remus had no choice but to roughly reach down, cupping the other man through his pants, groaning as he felt the hardness there. "If I was jealous," he murmured, squeezing just a bit as Sirius threw his head back and keened in pleasure, "I would fuck you, right here on the bed."

"Yes," Sirius mumbled, eyes closed and hands on Remus's biceps loosening as he fell apart a bit under Remis's grasp.

"If I was jealous," Remus continued, licking roughly at his palm and then slipping his hand under the band of Sirius's sweatpants, grabbing his length without thinking of being gentle, "I would open your arse up with my tongue, and watch while you screamed my fucking name."

"Remus," Sirius exhaled almost silently, barely keeping himself up on legs that were surely not working properly with the way Remus was working his cock with his hand.

"If I was jealous," Remus repeated, teasing his thumb over Sirius's leaking tip, inhaling as Sirius moaned with the movement, Remus's own cock twitching at the noises the shorter man made, "I would shove my huge cock so far into you, I'd make you come without touching you."

"Please," Sirius begged, his knees giving out, now, his expression completely fucked out as Remus moved his hand over his cock faster and with more purpose, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"But baby" he cooed into Sirius's ear, reveling in the gasping sounds he was making, "I'm not jealous. So I won't." And then, grinning triumphantly, Remus stopped, removing his hand from his pants and staring down at Sirius, who collapsed on the bed, looking like he had just been told that Christmas was cancelled.

It took all of Remus's self-control to stroll into their adjoining bathroom before he shoved his own pants down to his knees, grabbed his own aching cock, and worked it over roughly, not even mothing to keep his moans quiet. And, less than a minute later, he came, loudly yelling, "F-Sirius!" as he did so.

But not loudly enough to drown out the noise of Sirius yelling his name as he came at nearly the same time on the other side of the door.

And he realized that yes, Sirius was annoying and infuriating and disrespectful. But fuck, him being attractive was definitely not a bad thing.

[unforgivenntired2]

SHACKLED HEARTS

Yandere!Bakugoxreader

Next

The dim light of the moon filtered through the barred window, casting eerie shadows across the cold, damp room. You sat in the corner, knees drawn to your chest, the weight of your chains heavy on your wrists and ankles. It had been days—maybe even weeks—since Bakugo had taken you from the outside world, but the fear and confusion still gnawed at your mind.

Bakugo paced in front of you, his intense crimson eyes flickering with a mix of frustration and possessive desire. His fiery temperament was barely contained, simmering just beneath the surface. You had seen glimpses of his softer side before, but now, all you saw was the monster he had become.

"Why don't you understand?" Bakugo's voice was a harsh whisper, filled with desperation. "I did this for us! For you!"

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to comprehend his twisted logic. "This isn't love, Katsuki. This is madness!! P-Please, j-just... just let me go."

Bakugo's expression hardened, and he knelt in front of you, grabbing your chin roughly to force you to look at him. "You think you know what's best for you? You don't! You belong to me. No one else can protect you like I can."

His grip was painful, but the raw emotion in his eyes sent chills down your spine. You could see the conflict within him, the battle between his obsessive love and the remnants of his humanity. But right now, the darkness was winning.

"You don't need anyone else," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "I'll make sure of it. I'll keep you safe from everyone who tries to take you away."

Your sobs grew louder, your body shaking with the weight of your despair. "This isn't what I wanted, Katsuki. I wanted a future with you, but not like this. Not in chains."

Bakugo's eyes softened for a moment, and he released your chin, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. He looked torn, as if a part of him wanted to reach out and comfort you, but his obsession wouldn't let him. "I know you're scared," he said quietly, almost to himself. "But you'll see. You'll understand eventually. I just need you to trust me."

"How can I trust you when you've taken everything from me?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bakugo's face twisted with pain, and he slammed his fist against the wall, causing you to flinch. "Damn it, why can't you see?! I'm doing this because I love you!! I can't lose you!"

The raw intensity in his words made your heart ache. Despite the terror and the chains, a part of you still remembered the boy who had once been your friend, your confidant, your love. But now, he was a stranger—one who had crossed the line into madness.

"Please, Katsuki," you begged, your voice breaking. "Don't do this. Let me go. W-We can find another way."

His eyes bore into yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of doubt. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the unyielding resolve of a man who had convinced himself that his actions were justified.

"No," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're mine, and I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever. I can't let it happen again."

As he turned away, your heart sank, and the full weight of your situation crashed over you. You were trapped in a nightmare of his making, a twisted reflection of love that held you captive.

Bakugo walked to the door, pausing for a moment before looking back at you. "Get some rest," he said, his voice softer now. "I'll bring you something to eat later."

With that, he left the room, the heavy door closing behind him with a resounding thud. You were alone once more, your tears falling freely as the reality of your captivity settled over you. There was no escape, no way out.

You could only hope that one day, the boy you loved would find his way back to the light, and release you from the darkness that now bound your hearts together.