#and get your fucking aesthetic photos out of here

[the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis]

jasper moodboards are the funniest fucking thing on twilight tumblr i'm sorry

[eddiernunson]

"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.

Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie

Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described, except for height. Also, my editor pulled through, despite her busy schedule, thanks @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you! This is a birthday present to @bebe07011, always one of the first to read <3

Word Count: 9k

The subtle, yet annoying ring of your alarm yanks you out of your sleep, a sleep that took hours to settle into after anxious tossing and turning. A yawn overtakes your body as you sit up, looking around sleepily at the boxes that contain the contents of your room. You whine as the stars overflow your vision from the rubbing of your eye.

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, tasting the mint of your mouthwash when your mom pushes a bagel into your hand. Most of the kitchen is still in boxes, just a few appliances on the unnaturally bare counters. “Hey, Aunt Karen just called and said Nancy will be here any minute.” She offers, and a part of you feels for the bags under her eyes.

“Thanks.” You say, garbled with a piece of bagel in your mouth.

“Oh, and Mike is being a little testy, so he probably won’t move from the front seat for you.” She laughs, shaking her head.

You shrug, not caring. “I’ve been in the backseat for this long.”

Two honks out the front announce their arrival, and you ignore the anxious reminders she hurriedly spits out as you grab your backpack by the front door, already filled with school supplies from Texas. You shout an I love you to her as the Wheelers’ Station Wagon comes into your sight from the swung open door, finally out of her worried clutches that you’ve been in from the last week straight.

True to Aunt Karen’s word, Mike gave a defiant look when Nancy demanded he get out the front seat. Again, you didn’t care. “Sorry Mike has a ruler up his ass.” Nancy apologizes, her smirk reaching your own in the rearview.

You roll your eyes, a signal that it really doesn’t matter to you.

Hawkins, miniscule in comparison to that of your old home, Houston, passes by in the windows and you huff a sigh out at how much smaller your world has gotten. Your town, your school…you wish you could go back and give a reality check to the girl who patronized Nancy for it on the phone.

As promised, Nancy shows you to the front office and your first few classes. Being the new girl in the middle of a semester is absolute bullshit, but at least it wasn’t Forks, Washington levels of bullshit. That level of attention would’ve had you crawling under a bridge. Thank God only one teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. The rest of them couldn’t even be bothered.

Nancy sits alone at lunch, a notepad in her hand next to a near empty lunch tray. One thing you notice is that this school is much more categorized than yours was. It felt straight out of a high school dramedy, one you would criticize for being cliché.

Oh. Maybe it does some have truth to it.

“Hey loner.” You greet her, your butt hitting the hard plastic chair.

“I’m not a loner.” She huffs, hand moving absentmindedly as she writes. “My news team is getting this week’s paper done, we usually get it done during lunch.”

You roll your eyes, having noted the empty space on her tray. “You work too hard.”

“Nope. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.” She answers, her signature side smirk on her face. Sometimes, only sometimes, Nancy doesn’t really have a serious bone in her body.

You gesture to the cafeteria, opening your fruit cup. “So, tell me about your very categorized cafeteria.”

She laughs, pausing in the middle of the sentence she’s writing. “So. There’s the jocks/cheerleaders, the nerds, the band nerds, drama nerds, science nerds—"

“Those are different from the regular nerds?” You ask, eyebrow quirked.

“Yes.” She deadpans. “Those are the kids without a clique,” she points, a bunch of kids not interacting, shyly nibbling at their lunches. “And finally, where my brother sits. Hellfire.”

It felt dramatic, but the table definitely earned their last but not least position. They stand out from the crowd, not seeming to care about fitting in like everyone else so desperately does. From the looks of it, individually, none of them would fit in the crowd. As a group, they stick out like a sore thumb. They don’t even care.

Nancy seems to be speaking, but she fades into the background. While you tricked yourself into believing you were observing the table, it occurs to you your eyes are fixated on the head of it, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him.

Him.

“Who’s he?” You interrupt Nancy, watching as his long frizzy hair curtain over his face. You didn’t even know someone in real life could be this good looking, you were sure it was reserved for celebrities in magazines.

Nancy switches her glance back and forth between your slack jaw and wide eyes and him. “That’s Eddie Munson.” She answers, her voice calculated. “The dork that I complained about Mike copying, remember?”

Your tongue reaches out to lick your lips, staring at him distractedly. A hot feeling in the swell of your gut overwhelms your senses. “You described a wet-rat loser.”

Nancy huffs in abrupt laughter. “That’s cause he is!”

“Him?” You ask, this hot feeling starting to radiate. You notice it’s especially hot in your crotch, a sort of…want you’ve never felt before. You’ve never craved for anyone this badly.

Nancy laughs in disbelief, surprised to say the least that her sweet cousin is openly drooling over Eddie The Freak Munson of all people. “I can put in a good word, if you want.” She teases, smirking at the way your eyes widen in panic.

“No, no, please don’t.” You insist, your eyes finally flickering back to her.

“Fine, you can drool from afar.” She muses. “Oh, lunch’ll be over in a handful of minutes. What’s your next class?”

“History.” You answer, viewing your crumpled schedule. God, not another boring lecture.

Nancy bites her lip, something she’s clearly not willing to share with the class. You don’t ask, still trying to catch your breath.

She walks you across the school to the classroom littered with historical figures and maps. She salutes you, telling you she’ll see you in AP Calculus right after this one. The look on her face never leaves it, she’s always got a secret right under the surface, but this one seemed more entertaining than the rest.

When you enter the classroom, the teacher tells you there’s assigned seats in this one and lucky for you, there’s one seat left. She directs you to the far-left corner, signalling to the one on the right. You shyly ignore the looks on your new classmates faces, all of them observing the face of the new kid who started so late in the year.

New faces are always hard to ignore, it’s just human nature to stare. Still, your stage fright is present in the forefront of your mind.

Your teacher starts the lecture by introducing you as a new kid, offering a wave to everyone that turns their head to look at you. Why can’t teachers just learn to be normal?

Your head is turned down, leaning on your elbow as she starts to explain a concept you’ve already learned last year. Are they sure they put you in a grade 12 class? At least this will be easier than most. Suddenly the heavy door opens, and your heart stutters as the man who’s taken over your every thought stumbles into the room ten minutes late.

“Mr. Munson! How nice of you to join us!” She greets, her scowl indicating that it’s anything but.

“You are so welcome, Miss. Greyson.” Eddie answers, his voice dripping in a tenor tone that sends a shiver down your spine. Not a lick of sarcasm comes from him, answering as if she was genuine.

She sighs, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Just go have a seat.”

Something in you suddenly realizes that the only available seat is right next to yours. A thrill takes over you, biting your lip excitedly as he struts as if he has all the time in the world.

After a brief stint on the projector, Miss. Greyson instructs the class to open their textbooks and answer questions on the following pages. “You may work in pairs.” She answers the many raised hands, and the room is filled by the harsh sound of desks groaning against the floor.

You get up from your desk, leaning into the teacher as she gathers the laminated sheets she had just used for the lesson. “I don’t have a textbook, yet.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She replies, dropping her pile to shuffle off to her desk. “I completely forgot, in all the excitement.” She hands you the textbook that looks about fifteen years old, the spine cracked to oblivion. She leans in as you grab it, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry about the placement of your desk, just ignore him. There was no one I hated in this classroom enough to place next to him.”

You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow, perplexed at her open disdain for him. It reminded you of the tone of voice Nancy had over the phone, wondering if the whole school was really this open about it. “I’ll live.” You answer, and she winks like you two share a secret.

Your textbook lands harshly on the desk, opening it to the page indicated in white chalk written on the blackboard. God, the reading is four pages, and the questions are a paragraph each. This much reading on the downfall of Mycenae? A jarring noise to your left surprises you, looking up to face his desk come closer and closer.

He leans over, a smile on his face that sends a thrill right through you. “So, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He talks low, you spend the time hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that trails over your skin. “Uh, I just started today.” You beg yourself to seem normal, to look him in the eyes like a decent conversationalist. You can’t bring yourself to, no matter how hard you try. Somehow you know when you finally look in those eyes of his, you’ll be too mesmerized to look away.

The printed words on the page make no sense, just a blur of boring text in black and white.

He leans back in his chair; you can feel his eyes planted on you. “Ah, makes sense. I would’ve remembered seeing your pretty face around.”

Oh my god he just called me pretty. Surely, he’s lying? Being in his line of sight and being considered good looking enough to him for him to even glance at was never in your wildest imagination, picturing him glazing right over you. Just a bug on the windshield. You gulp, pretending to be infatuated with the page in front of you instead of the man next to you.

“You shy?” He asks. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning onto his elbow, his eyes staring a hole in your head.

Finally, you tear your glance off the textbook and onto him. God were you right about his eyes. How can a pair of brown eyes be so captivating? They’re a perfect chocolate brown, his mouth in a lopsided expression that sucks the air out of your lungs. “A little.” You admit, distracted by the sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.

His limber fingers are dressed in chunky silver rings, the sight of his hands moving distractedly suddenly sends the heat you felt in your stomach earlier into a frenzy, the pull strong and overwhelming. “I can work with that.” A shy smile lands on your face, clenching your teeth as a method of resisting the urge to smile ear to ear. “Can I get a name?”

You tell him and hearing it from his lips is a vice and a half. “And you’re Eddie.” You say before he can introduce himself.

“So, my reputation precedes me.” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Or am I exactly like they said?”

You shrug. “Not exactly.”

His shoulders indicate a silent huff of laughter. “Care to expand on that?”

You shrug again. “You’re just…different.”

The look on his face indicates this answer isn’t good enough, but he doesn’t care to ask you to expand any further. As you work on your homework, finally settling your heartbeat and breathing rate, he writes in a notebook littered with graffiti. His left foot rests on the edge of his desk, the book resting on his thigh as he writes with the dull pencil.

He’s not doing any homework, but he’s at least letting you work on yours. The bell finally rings, dismissing you from your class and the room fills with chatter as everyone packs their bags. “You know where your next class is?”

You shake your head; having told Nancy you could work it out on your own. “Uh, no. It’s AP Calculus with Mr. Warner.”

“Mr. Warner.” He muses, his notebook in one hand and carrying a small metal tin. “Here, I’ll walk you.”

You pause, gulping as your bag rests on one shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.” You insist, suddenly realizing he’s about a whole head taller than you.

He smiles, his gaze making you feel…hot. “I didn’t ask, sweetheart.”

The way you gulp, your wide eyes darting back and forth between his, your teeth biting on your bottom lip nervously, Eddie was startled at the physical reaction and it was all going straight to his dick. The urge to shove his thumb between your pretty, plump lips is overwhelming, to say the least.

“Oh.” You answer, fingernails digging into the strap of your backpack. “Then lead the way.”

Eddie shakes his head, starting down the hallway to the other end of the school. As soon as he reaches the classroom, he turns around, leaning against the locker on his arm, neck hunching over you. Oh god, he’s gorgeous. “Will you let me take you out on a date, tonight?”

Every bone in your body wants to say yes, fingers just itching to reach out and touch his lithe hips. “My mom won’t let me go out on a Monday.”

So, that was not a No. “I would’ve asked for Friday, but I can’t wait that long.”

His admission drives you crazy, that heat ever present. Things like this just don’t happen. “Neither can I.” You admit, feeling scared of the rush that overwhelms you, yet scared of the idea of it never happening. You think quickly, biting your lip. “Think you can pick me up from my cousin’s house?”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans against the locker. “Who’s your cousin?"

“Nancy Wheeler.”

His eyes bug out of the sockets, sighing in disbelief. “You’re cousins with Wheeler?” You nod, wondering if there’s any unspoken animosity between them. “I’ve dropped her kid brother off a few times, I know where she lives. You gonna tell your mom where you’re heading out for the night?”

You shake your head, sure he knows the answer, already.

Eddie huffs, hoping the crotch of his pants won’t give him away. “You ever snuck out before?”

“No.” You answer, looking up as the bell rings. “But I’m sure I can manage.”

You can’t place the expression on his face, somewhere between bewildered and amused.

For the record, it’s pure lust, having just met you and he’s already accidentally convincing you to sneak out for him. He wants you to, wondering if one day you’ll go so far to skip class to have fun with him under the bleachers.

His eyes leer down your body, watching as your skirt dances across your bare thighs while your feet can’t stay in place. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, just barely resisting the urge to move them past the barrier and watch your face melt in pleasure.

“What time?” Eddie asks, eyes flickering up to your sweet face.

You think about it, knowing you’ll need time to grab at least a dress and get ready at the Wheelers’. “7:30.”

Eddie laughs, turning away from you and back down the hall to where you presumed his class was. “Pick you up at 7.”

“I-I said 7:30!”

“I’ll honk twice!” He answers, hand in his pocket like he didn’t just glue you into place.

The echo of his voice suddenly reminds you the halls are empty, only a few feet away from Mr. Warners classroom. You know more than anyone that AP Calculus students just aren’t late. Maybe he’ll give you grace on your first day.

You ignore the way every set of eyes switch to you, looking around the room for an empty seat. Luckily, Nance has saved one right next to you. “Hi, sorry. Couldn’t find it.”

“That’s alright, take this and have a seat right next to Miss.Wheeler, there.” He offers, gesturing to your cousin.

When the lecture ends and he assigns homework, she gets right to the point. “So, how was History?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “You knew he’d be there.” You accuse, her grin affirming your assumption completely. “A warning would’ve been nice.”

“Not like you had to speak to him.” Nancy sighs, opening her textbook to the page indicated.

You stare at her pointedly, opening your book to a random page. “I sat next to him.”

Nancy instinctively knows something is up, seeing something was on your mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You’ve barely given me a chance.” You comment sarcastically, looking over at her expectant face. “He…he asked me out.”

To say Nancy is surprised at this development would be simply, an understatement. “I’m sorry?”

You grin, finally letting that smile you’ve been hiding take over. “He’s picking me up at 7.”

“Like your mom will let you go out on a weekday.” She squints, knowing your mom’s tendencies to make you prioritize school over anything else.

“…which is why I need you to cover for me.” You hesitate, grinning shyly when she gives you a look of utter disbelief.

“Seriously?” You nod, pleading with her silently. “Fine. But you owe me big.”

You promise to make it up to her.

When the bell rings signifying the end of the day, your heart beats rapidly as the time for your date comes closer and closer. Nancy said she wouldn’t be able to help with your conundrum of the fact that you’ll need a dress and a way to get from your house to Nancy’s.

As you sit next to her while she writes a rough copy of an article wondering who you could possibly get to drive you. You might be shit out of luck. Like an angel, a freckled redhead appears out of nowhere. “Nance, is that the cousin?” She asks, sitting right across from you.

From the look on Nancy’s face, you’re unsure how close they actually are. “Yep.”

“Cool! I’m Robin, over-sharer, anxiety ridden, fast talker. Nice to meet ya.”

You take her extended hands, sort of hypnotized by her warm green eyes. “You too.”

“Hey, Steve busy?” Nancy asks, a million thoughts behind her head.

“Probably not.” Robin offers, getting up from the table. “Why?”

“Oh, she needs a ride.”

Robin eyes you, a smirk landing on her face. “I can convince him.” She side eyes, gesturing for you to follow.

You follow her around the school to the front where you face a handsome lanky dude sitting impatiently as he waits for his friend. When he turns the window down to ask who you are, you realize he’s not just handsome, he’s hot. God, you’ll have to reprimand Nancy for leaving that detail out. “What’s with the guest?”

“She’s Nance’s cousin. She needs a ride, would you mind?”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Steve asks, face shifting into a deep scowl.

You stop Robin from responding, having an immediate comeback. “I had to listen to my cousin bitch about you for hours. Hours. I think I deserve a little compensation for my time, don’t you?”

Steve smirks, looking from under the hair falling into his face. “Whatever, get in.”

“Where you need a ride to?” He asks as you get into his backseat.

“My house.” You pause, hesitating to say the second location. “Then Nancy’s house.”

Steve squints suspiciously at you in his rear view. “Why two locations?”

“So my date can pick me up tonight.” You admit, glancing out the window shyly.

Robin turns in her seat, jaw dropping open. “Isn’t this your first day?”

You shrug, biting back a smile. “So?”

“Oh shit.” She glances to Steve and back to you. “Who? Do we know him?”

“Um, probably.”

“We know him.” Robin states.

“Turn here, third house on the left…” you tell him, getting out of his car as soon as it stops.

When you get inside your house, you explain to your mom you are way further behind on school than you thought you were and will need some time to get caught up. She asks how late you’ll be, and when you say midnight, she doesn’t even hesitate to let you go.

Thank god you don’t lie, because this should not be this easy. Your hands ruffle through the box of dresses by your bed, grabbing at a few you know look good on you. They’re stuffed into your backpack, cursing yourself for not unpacking your makeup earlier. Hopefully Nancy will be nice enough to lend you some. (You doubt it.)

You rush a love you out to your mom and back into Steve’s back seat, out of breath from running up and down the stairs so damn fast. God, the things you were doing for your goddamn date.

Nancy only lives down a few blocks from you, thus the easy carpool your moms figured out until you get your car. God, in Houston you could’ve just taken a METRORail, you didn’t need a damn car. You thank Steve profusely, thankful for his saving grace.

You would rather tell every member of Hawkins Senior class personally a fun fact about you than go out with Eddie in the same thing you wore to school. You’re shy, not pathetic.

“You don’t owe him anything if you tell us who asked you out.” She calls out of her open window, face full amusement. “C’mon!”

You wait as they pull forward, Steve shaking his head at his best friend’s shenanigans. “It’s Eddie Munson!” You shout, laughing as she shouts a what in utter disbelief.

You wave as they take off, thinking you and her could actually be great friends. She has the kind of spunk you look for in a friend, the same spunk you’ve witnessed in your cousin. A large part of you wonders why they’re not friends.

When your Aunt Karen wonders why she wasn’t alerted, you give the disclaimer you’re just there to catch up on the schoolwork. Your Uncle Ted insinuates Houston must be so far behind Hawkins, and you grit a smile in response, an indent on the tip of your tongue from your teeth. Most of your lessons from the school day you had learned last year, already earning top marks on those questions. The only class that was remotely hard was calculus.

It was borderline hilarious.

You run up the stairs, stomach in knots.                                                                         

Nancy is nice enough to let you use her makeup, grinning up at you with amusement as you ruffle through the dresses you so hurriedly packed. She gives a definite yes to a dress you knew stands out but worry at the way it just brushes against your thigh, and the neckline dives deeper than what you’re used to.

When it cascades down your body, the look in her stark green eyes tells you everything you need to know. This was the dress. Nancy is kind enough to do your hair, talking quietly with you as she curls your hair.

The half hour leading up to 7 has you lying on her bed, freaking out. She does the homework you’re supposed to be doing, answering your questions vaguely. She tries to make you feel better, grinning cheekily as she never imagined her sweet cousin going on date with Hawkin’s resident metal head.

When two honks occur down the street, you sit up starkly at the sound, biting your lip as you glance to her. “Go. I’ll distract my parents.”

She does, asking them for faux advice in the living room as you sneak past them to the front door, closing it with the most care you could muster. When you don’t hear any commotions, that gives you the go ahead to run down the street to the large van that sticks out, headlights on as it sits idly.

You peer up at him through the passenger window, waving as he unlocks it for you. The lopsided smile on his face starts that heat up again, like he turns on burners all over your body at will. The door shuts behind you, and you smile up at him shyly when he turns down the music.

“You look…wow.” He compliments you, watching the way your eyes look up at him, that beautiful shine.

You assess his outfit, a leather jacket worn with a graphic t-shirt and jeans with rips at the knee. He looked casual, but damn fine regardless. Him losing his metal accessories and devil-may-care look probably would’ve disappointed you, anyway. “So do you.” You offer back, taking in the way he looks as he starts his van and pulls out.

“Thanks.” He winks, turning at a traffic intersection. “So, there are several places we can go, the movies, Hal’s Diner, Benny’s Burgers, bowling alley, the Drive In, up to you, sweetheart.” He insists, driving his van around the small town.

The only thing you want at the current moment is to be in close quarters with him, with the need to kiss him crazy, a need you’ve experienced far too much this quickly. There’s only one thing that allows that. “Drive in.” You decide, the prospect of those same close quarters sending a thrill down your spine.

Eddie signals left, the drive-in location the opposite way from where he’s been driving. “Sounds good, love.”

Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress smooths over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.

By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the sparce parking lot, only a few vehicles spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you've got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.

This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.

The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.

Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.

As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing at his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.

Eddie had every intention of kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and vibrates into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body fold involuntarily towards him.

Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you're horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.

The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more; every muscle feeling like jelly as his lips and hands work like magic over you. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for eachother. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”

Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “No.”

 Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”

The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.

“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.

Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “No.”

His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.

God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.

His cock has never hurt so much from the blood pulsing through it, probably an angry red at this point.

“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.

“An-an orgasm?” You stutter, voice squeaking through the question. He’s gorgeous, the way he stares down at you, those same chocolate brown eyes making that heat pool. Despite the fear, the arousal is greater. “Uh, sure.”

He smirks, watching your eyes dart back and forth nervously. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You confirm, pulling him for the kiss you so desperately crave. You weren’t sure how it happens, your hands having a damn mind of their own. Despite him pulling away, he slips back into the kiss easily, the hand on your thigh and hand on your face making you feel dizzy.

You’ve had kisses before, but you knew you were missing something in them. At last, you’ve found it, desperately clinging onto his kiss. God, he’s good at making you turn into mush, relaxing into his seats almost completely.

His hand inches up your thigh, waiting for you to protest. Your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer. “I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hot breath turning you into a liquid. Finally, his hand lands on the cotton of your underwear, his strokes tugging mewls into his open mouth. “Shit, you’re soaked, baby. You even know how much you want me? Probably confusing, hmm?”

He puts pressure at the top, rubbing small circles and it feels like fire is set to your center, gasping as your concentration falls apart. His fingers feel good, in a way you didn’t think was possible. Words in your mind echo the thought of how damn good he feels, mouth attempting to tell him, but nothing comes out but wanton gasps.

Eddie watches you wither in his chair, legs opening for him. Sure, giving you an orgasm is a fierce turn on, but knowing you’ve never experienced any type of pleasure or want is sent straight to his cock. He remembers learning how good it felt to start rubbing his cock when it got hard, how often he started doing it when he realized it led to something.

All he wants to do is turn you into a pervert, one orgasm at a time.

That same warmth that’s made home in your gut starts to build, your thighs tensing up when it occurs to you what its building to. “Fuck.” You gasp, Eddie humming at the swear that leaves your lips. “Close, and I haven’t even really touched you, hmm?” He muses, lips starting to add a second sensation on your neck with his hot and wet tongue.

He pushes your underwear aside, fingers finally making direct contact with the wet slick of your folds. “Eddie.” You gasp. The skin on skin makes your head spin, clutching onto his leather jacket with desire. The pleasure jumps up thirty notches, that build reaching an all-time high. Nothing has ever felt better, never so fantastic. Again, now you understand why teenagers are such perverts.

“Let me see you cum, I can feel it coming, baby.” He whispers, licking his lips.

He slides a finger deep in you, the sudden intrusion alien but welcome. On the edge, you become even more completely desperate for him. How was his finger even better? How was that possible? The feat thrills you, happily and willingly giving into everything he gives you. “Damn. Baby. You look so fucking good, think you can cum for me?”

His fingers hook within you, and it pushes you over the edge you’ve been staring down, stars invading your vision, the heat you’ve felt everywhere, all at once. Your tight entrance pulses around his fingers, twitching, not aware of the loud, whiny moans that Eddie’s sure the concession stand less than twenty feet away can hear, but he’s proud of it, grinning maniacally at his hard work.

He guides you through it, thrusting his fingers as he watches you come apart under his touch. When you stop shaking, his hand rubs your pussy gently, admiring the slick that is now pooled down your thighs and even onto his chair. He smirks, catching your eye when they finally open to face him. “How’re you doing, love?”

You forget to be shy in your smile, grinning maniacally as you grab him, yanking him in for a hot, wet kiss. It’s even dirtier than before, attempting to show him how grateful you feel for his magical fingers. “That was…so…good.” You mumble, smiling wider when you can feel him do the same.

“Feels good, hmm?” He asks, his fingers still stroking you gently.

“Jesus.” You answer, thighs convulsing involuntarily.

Eddie chuckles, amused that it takes you cumming to cum out of your shell. “You’re pretty like this, you know?” You roll your eyes, and he can feel the dismissal of his compliment. “Can I eat you out, baby?” It shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but it is. You barely know any of this terminology, and he can feel you tense up below him, your once liquid limbs turning to steel. “You have no idea what that means, do you, baby?”

You shake your head, gulping in the embarrassment.

“That’s ok. Of course, I don’t mind helping you.” Eddie doesn’t mind. When he says that he’s under exaggerating, not showing an ounce of his true feelings. How much does it take for you to squirm under his dirty words? How much patience does he have before he begs you to let him shove his hardened cock down your throat. How long will it be until you’re riding him like a porn star? If he was even slightly sleezier, he’d bet on it with someone. “I’d make that pretty pussy feel even better with my tongue.”

Oh. That sounds miles better than anything your brain could’ve come up with. You bite your lip, staring up at him with pure want. “You’d do that?”

“If you’re willing to come into the back with me.” He muses, nodding his head to his elongated trunk. You turn your head, facing a fleece blanket placed on the floor of the van with a few pillows. Did he do this for you, or is it always this nice?

Eddie doesn’t think you can get any cuter, but when you nod excitedly, starting to crawl into the back before he can say anything, he’s proven dead wrong. He’s never been so happy to be wrong. As you crawl, he watches your ass, your underwear still pulled to the side as the shine on your folds is still visible in the light of the movie.

He smiles, crawling as soon as you land awkwardly on the floor of the van. You sit cross legged waiting for him, one spaghetti strap fallen off your shoulder as you bite your lip anxiously. It doesn’t help Eddie that the strap on your shoulder starts to reveal a breast, just peeking at the top of the nipple. He’s barely seen you, just at the tip of the iceberg of touching you, and he’s about to pop from the anticipation.

How are you doing this to him so easily?

Eddie leans in for a kiss, something as soft as he wanted to give you the moment he saw you sitting in the desk next to his, but his hormones got the worst of him. He kisses each bare shoulder, admiring the way you relax into it.  His long fingers reach to the already fallen strap, fingers brushing as he tugs it down further, fully exposing the partially exposed tit. Your heart races, loud, too loud, in your temple and you wonder if he can hear it.

Eddie can’t, as heartbeats are usually inaudible to the naked ear. He can hear, however, the way those sweet breaths get louder, faster, and even more utterly pathetic for him. Eddie feels a goal take over his mind like a parasite, one he welcomes with a bed made. He plans to make you moan and whine louder so that everyone within ten miles can hear how good you feel, what a good whore you are—he’s getting ahead of himself.

Right now, he focuses on making you feel comfortable, helping you become at ease so you will never be self-conscious with him, never afraid of being too loud, or too eager. He can’t imagine ever thinking otherwise with you. He thought he knew the definition of impossible, but now he knows he had no clue.

Every sensible, distinguishable thought has left your brain, too focused on how good his tongue and teeth feel as he expertly works on your beaded nipple. His brain is going a million miles per hour, yours left behind in the middle of a desert. His hand guides the other strap down your shoulder, fully exposing your chest, the soft material falling so it sits wrapped around your hips.

Teeth scrape against the curve of your breast, as if his tongue is attempting to taste every inch, every centimetre of it. One hand smoothing the skin just below them. Wet kisses trail down your torso, tongue dipping into your navel, the sweet swell of your stomach, his dull nails digging into your soft flesh, the pain adding to the beauty of the mixed sensations.

Your pussy is raging in fire, shouting for the same attention he had been so generous at providing. He feels your thighs tensing, attempting to provide friction for yourself where you need it the most. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, mouth now at the base of your neck. “Does that sweet pussy hurt for it?” You nod, rubbing your thighs like a damn cricket. “Oh, I know, I’ll make it all feel better, don’t you worry.”

He admires your face, the way your eyes are closed with the muscles beautifully crumpled up.

“Lie down for me, and I’ll eat that fucking pretty pussy.” Without hesitation, you lay down, shifting your body so you can lie comfortably on the floor of the van.

When you do, his hands tug at the fabric around your waist, not pulling it off you, just clutching it like a vice. They slink under it, fingers tight on the waistband on your panties as he pulls them down your legs. As they leave your feet, pulling them around your heels, Eddie stares at the drenched middle, fingers playing with the thick slick that had gathered. Eddie seems to have a talent for stealing the air from your lungs, doing so as you watch him taste them. “Taste so fucking good, sweets.” He makes a show of placing them into his back pocket, shooting a wink when you give him a questioning look.

He adjusts himself onto his forearms, both hands landing on the top of your thighs as his head dives in between them. Your thigh muscles tense in his hold, begging him for mercy, any kind. “Eddie…please…I need…I need—”

He chuckles, bending over your wanton body. “I love how you say my name, but I’m gonna make you scream it.” He mutters, the scent of your arousal making his vision fizzle.

Finally, finally, his tongue touches you, relishing in the immediate whine that leaves your lips. He hums against you, enjoying the way your legs move restlessly. The first touches are so delicate, your heels digging in his (still) clothed back and grinding your hips to force more contact. “That’s a girl, take what you want from me.” He praises you, hand stroking your thigh gently.

The simple instruction drives your hips to grind more, Eddie’s tongue licking up your slick folds harder in response. At this point, fire isn’t a hot enough word to describe the heat in your pussy. Eddie starts to focus on your clit, his ears suddenly muffled by your thighs abruptly closing on his head. He starts a rhythm, switching back and forth, listening to how your sweet whines answer him.

Any thoughts occurring in your head are long gone, all out of your mouth before your brain even knows you’re thinking it. You wonder how you didn’t think of this, ‘how the first thing you thought when you saw Eddie not how good he would look between your legs’?

Answer: the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. (Spoiler, there will be better things.)

Eddie is more than happy to play with you, to listen how you react to every touch he provides. So far, his favourite sound is when his tongue enters your sopping hole, fucking it gloriously. It was the first truly uninhibited sound he managed to pull from you. Every decision he made for you was purposeful, doing his damn best to send you over the edge again. He wonders how willing he is to put off his own pleasure for the sake of yours.

Honestly, to hear you come apart repeatedly is 1000% worth it to him, even if he has to rut against the floor of the van.

“Cl-close, Eddie.” You tell him, that sudden ending sneaking up on you. “So, so, so, so, good!”

Eddie takes your admission with pride, and as the stars invade your vision, your every limb tensing as you cum, he keeps going.

In your post orgasm haze, the over sensitivity of your pussy is overwhelming. However, his continuing and relentless mouth feels so good you relish in it, absolutely sure your legs will be sore from the constant convulsing. You whimper through a hushed and delayed swear, your hands weaving through his curls and tugging on his scalp.

His thumb meets your clit, rubbing feverishly and driving another orgasm out of you faster than you ever expected. His name is music to his ears as you shout it when the orgasm takes over you. “Fuck, Eddie, mouth feels…ah!”

His brown eyes open, nose nuzzling your clit as he stares at you through those darkened eyes. His tongue licks a long stripe, chin resting the mound of your pubic bone. “Think you can handle a few more?”

Your chest heaves, struggling to catch your breath as you lift your head up to face him.  Your head feels like a weight, too heavy on your neck. Your mouth opens to answer him, but the weight of your head wins, landing back on the van.

Eddie works your clit again, watching your breasts move up and down as you struggle to catch your breath. “Maybe not that many more, hmm? Maybe just one?” …if he’s strong enough to hold back from giving you two.

Stopping at this point would give you a break you need, but at the same time you can’t bear to, Eddie’s tongue acting as a siren’s song. You’re hypnotized by him. “More, please. Please keep going.”

“I love hearing your voice beg for me. Your whimpers are the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sweets.”

Eddie dives in again, your choked whimpers telling any near neighbors that you simply don’t remember they exist. They’re not important enough to care about anymore.

As much as you are sensitive to every single touch, even over-stimulated, you welcome the next three orgasms he gives you. At the end of your third, or sixth, orgasm, Eddie rests his chin on your mound again, staring up at you as you recollect yourself. He’s patient, watching the light making its way back into your eyes.

Eddie nearly asks you a question, when your hand reaches out to grab him by his leather collar. He lets out a yelp of surprise, his fully clothed form an odd juxtaposition against your completely naked one. Well, save for the dress still on your waist. Your lips meet, tongues gliding against each other beautifully, and you taste yourself in his mouth. Even with your brain as foggy as it is, your body feeling as weak as it does, the number one thing you can focus on is getting those clothes off him.

Your hands fidget on the harsh leather collar, forcing it off his back. “Take it off,” you tell him, Eddie grinning cheekily in response. As soon as his jacket is off, you feel the graphic shirt start to come off with it. The reveal of his patched treasure trail, his bare skin against yours a marvel of sensations. You become impatient, attempting to hurry the process of taking his shirt off.

A symphony of laughter leaves his lips as his shirt finally is tossed off to the side, watching your eyes marvel at his tattoo littered chest. Your tits pressed against him pulls a groan from his lips, a sound that drives your legs to tug his tented jeans down against your bare pussy. If you thought his tongue felt good, it’s nothing compared to his hips against yours.

His voice is strained, dripping in husk. “Sh-shit, doll. I-I need you. Need to feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. Need it so bad, please.”

Eddie begging like this being such a turn on is a surprise, to say the least. And from the pleasure he gave you, you’re willing him to do whatever he wants to you.

Whatever. He wants.

“Really? You want me?” You ask, whining as he ruts again.

“Desperately.”

Your hand moves down to the button of his jeans, undoing it with shaky hands and even shakier breathing. “You gonna take my virginity, Eddie?”

Somehow you knew this would make him crazy. You enjoyed it, enjoyed the crazy, adored his moan in approval. “I’m gonna take you, baby.” He grunts, starting to move his jeans down his ass, legs, taking his briefs with them.

He’s quick about it, tongue against your skin as he grabs the dress around your waist and slowly drags it down your legs, tongue dragging down along with it. Slyly, he holds a condom from his pants pockets between two fingers. “You ready?”

You bite your lip, making the bottom lip swell from the constant fidgeting. “I’m on birth control…” you admit, only on it to regulate a heavy flow.

He makes a show of tossing the condom over his shoulder, grinning at his crazy eyes. “Well, shit, darling.” He leans in, feeling the size of him as it brushes against your hip. He’s big, right? “Before I enter that pussy, I need you to do me a favour.”

“Hmm?” You ask, the only thing in your mind is how good his bulge felt when it rutted up against your heat. If that felt that good? Sex with Eddie…your mind goes dizzy from the need.

Eddie takes your hand resting by your head, wrapping it around his hardened length. The moan that leaves his lips is deep and rough. Your unsure fingers allow him to assist you, getting a hold of the rhythm. When you do, he lets you take over, face falling in your neck when your grip tightens. “Okay, I can’t take it any longer.” He whispers, gentle, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Here, help me, will you?”

You don’t ask, only because you don’t have the chance to, when his hips help you brush the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You tease the two of you simultaneously, brushing it numerous times, both of you gasping in harmony. “Oh, you little tease.”

His hand replaces yours, whining as the head finally, finally brushes into your entrance. “Eddie.” You whisper, clinging onto him desperately. “S-so, so, so full.”

“Yeah?” He asks, both winded by the feel of you and by the blissed look on your face. Maybe if he kisses the middle of your eyebrow enough, he can settle every wrinkle you demonstrate from the pain beautifully mixed with pleasure. “Look at you, so drunk on it, did you ever think a cock could make you feel this good? Ever think how much you could want to be fucked so desperately?”

You shake your head, drunk on his words, drunk on his cock. “More, please.”

“Think you can take it?”

You whine impatiently, legs attempting to pull him in harder. “Eddie.”

He smiles as you fall into his trap, pushing in more than he knows he should. He can’t help it, the smile that takes over your face is the perfect reward. “I thought you were shy?”

You roll your eyes, knowing when someone is this close to you, has seen this much of you, there is barely any time to be shy. “Shut up.”

He listens, kissing you deeply as his hips start to move. Your hand weaves itself into his hair, whimpering into his ear as he hits, deeper, harder.

You can’t fully understand the sounds coming out of his mouth, the once coherent, cocky sentences turn into mumbled groans, and it’s refreshing to know he seems to want you as you did him, craved for you the same way. A string of words on repeat come from your mouth, just his name.

The only thing you seem to be able to think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEddieEddieEddie…

“God, your tight pussy, I’m gonna cum soon…” At least, that’s what you think he says. “Gonna fill you up…” You tighten around him, enjoying the prospect of it. “Gonna see it dripping out of you.”

He doesn’t know how it’s possible you tighten around him more.

“God, you take me so well, it’s like you were made for me, made for my cock.”

Head? Empty. Cunt? Full.

Him? Perfect.

“Fill me up, please.”

“Listen to those dirty little words, gonna turn you into a filthy whore.” He whispers, whining together with you in bliss as his hips rut a final, harsh, jagged time.

Time seems to be endless, as he whispers in your ear, hands on his broad back when he settles, keeping his cock warm. Time is so endless; you don’t even notice the movie turning off and the subtle turnover of engines and wheels driving off past the van.

It takes a poor teenage employee to knock on the van doors, politely asking if you could leave because the drive-in is closed, and they need to lock the gate.

To say the way you avoid their eyes after hurriedly putting your dress back on turns Eddie on would be an understatement.

To say when you waltz with him hand in hand down the hallways the next day turns into a sideshow, would be an even bigger understatement.

You sit on his lap during lunch, curious to the reaction of the other boys sitting with him. When Eddie slips his hand under your skirt and plays with your clothed cunt, he knows he’s just starting to corrupt you as you attempt to seem normal.

He’s just getting started.

-

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Thanks for all the love!

[eiightysixbaby]

12:25 A.M.

word count: 1.7k

summary: eddie calls you late one night while he’s looking at your photos…. ;)

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut smut smut. this entire thing is just filth from the get-go, sorry not sorry. lots of swearing, eddie & reader masturbate over the phone, lots of dirty talking - eddie and reader are bein nastyyyyy, daddy kink on the low, mention of explicit photos/nudes, if I forgot anything lmk!

author’s note: yeah so uhhhh the eddie sluts discord was having a convo about eddie keeping dirty polaroids of you and thus, this piece of filth was born. i’m so serious there’s barely a plot this is just nastiness, enjoy!!! also: the photos in the photo set above are not meant to represent what reader looks like - they’re just aesthetically pleasing.

*Rriiiiiiiing Rriiiiiiing*

The sound of the phone startles you from your half-asleep state. You’d unintentionally almost fallen asleep sitting up in your bed, television still playing softly in the background. You rub your bleary eyes and turn to the clock as you grab the phone. 12:25am. Who would be calling at this hour?

“Hello?” you say into the receiver, voice a little groggy.

“Hey, sweets. I’m sorry for calling so late,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice on the other end.

“Eds, hi. What’s up, are you alright?” you sit more alert now, wondering why he’s calling you after midnight.

“I’m fine sweet thing, just had a long day at work and I missed you,” his voice sounds breathy, not his usual tone of voice. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I had kind of dozed off, but it’s fine. What are you up to over there, baby?” you ask him, curling the phone cord around your fingers.

“Oh, y’know… just looking through those sexy Polaroids I took of you. Touching myself a little bit,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, and you feel yourself shudder a little at his words.

Throughout the time you’ve been dating Eddie, he’s gathered quite the collection of explicit photos of you. He loves to take pictures of you in all sorts of positions, snapping shots of you naked on his bed, you split wide open on his cock, you sticking your tongue out while he presses his cock to your mouth, one of your face covered in his cum. You’ve even taken some of your own to sneak into his stash, photos of your tits squished together, or your fingers buried deep in your cunt. Eddie loves them, he looks at them all the time. He keeps the safe-for-work photos of you in his wallet and in his car, but the raunchy ones sit in a box under his bed - for his eyes only.

“Touching yourself to little old me, handsome?” you tease him, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck yeah baby, it’s like I’ve got my own personal porn star to look at, how could I resist?”

Your cheeks heat up at his response, and you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You know what he wants, know he needs to get off, so you take the bait.

“Mm, wish I was there to touch you instead, Eddie,” you giggle, feeling heat rush to your core at the thought of him spread out in bed, jerking his cock to you.

“Shit, baby, you know I love your hands on me,” there’s a pause, and then, “What are you wearing right now, sweets?”

“One of your t-shirts, you know - the blue and black tie dye one, and a pair of black panties….” you speak slowly, drawing out the words.

“No bra?” he asks, his voice husky.

“No bra, baby. In fact, you can see my nipples through the fabric of the shirt….” you trail off, knowing what you’re doing to him. One of your hands reaches up to toy with your breasts as you speak, as if you’re doing him a favor by touching the parts of you that he can’t right now.

“Fuuuuuuck, I need my hands on you baby. Wish I was there with you right now,” you can detect the strain in his voice, can faintly hear the schlick schlick of his hand moving up and down his cock.

It only turns you on further, and you slowly slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, ghosting circles over your clit. “Mmm, Eds, I need you here right now,” your voice is seductive, pleading.

“Yeah, baby? What would you have me do if I was there with you?” Eddie purrs.

“I’d have you finger my soaking pussy…. two fingers, maybe three… need you to stretch me out,” you’re dipping your own fingers past your entrance as you get the words out, your fingers not reaching even close to the places Eddie’s can reach. “I love when you curl your fingers inside me, you know how to play with me, baby.”

“Fuck yeah I do, sweetheart, shit-” Eddie grunts, and you can tell he’s picking up his pace on his cock. “Wish I was fingering you, hitting that spot you love, getting those pretty sounds out of you-”

“Please, baby, love how you touch me…” you’re begging even though he’s not there with you.

“Would you suck my cock for me, baby? Fit my fat cock down your throat, hm?” he continues on, and his words have your head spinning. Imagining his fingers inside you instead of your own as you work to get yourself off. You’ve never engaged in phone sex before this, really, but with Eddie it feels so natural. It’s a different kind of turn-on to hear him talk to you while you know he’s got his thick fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you.

“Y-yes, daddy. Love having your cock in my mouth, need you to fuck my face…” you’re practically moaning into the phone, head lolling backwards. “Wanna taste you, please Eddie please…”

“That’s my good fucking girl, need to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Love when you swallow my load,” his breath is staggered as he speaks through gritted teeth. “Are you touching yourself for me, baby? Got your fingers deep in that pussy?”

“Yeah, ‘m so wet for you, Eds. Doesn’t feel as good as when you do it, though,” you pout, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, the coil in your stomach tightening gradually.

“Aw, I know sweet thing. Need daddy to take care of you, yeah?” Eddie knows exactly how to talk to you to send you reeling, your eyes screwing shut as you finger yourself, movements growing sloppier.

“Yeah babe, fuck, need you inside me. Want you so bad,” your fingers have set a brutal pace fucking into your dripping cunt, and you're almost positive Eddie can hear how soaked you are as you please yourself.

“Got me rock fucking hard for you, baby, can you hear me stroking my cock to your pretty pictures?” he taunts, but you absolutely can hear the filthy noises in the background - quieting your moans so you can listen better.

There’s a beat, and then you hear him spit into his hand, the sloshing sounds picking up speed and intensity as he presumably starts to pump his cock faster. You plunge your fingers as deep as they’ll go inside of you, curling them desperately to hit that delicious soft spot.

“Yes, fuck, it’s so fucking hot listening to you touch yourself for me,” you’re breathing heavy as you work yourself to orgasm, “Wish my fingers were wrapped around your dick right now.”

“Mmmhhh, I love when you wrap those delicate little hands around me, baby. I’m so big they barely hold me, princess,” he’s smirking as he speaks, loves riling you up thinking about the size of him.

“Yeah, Eds, you’re s’fucking big. Love how you fill me up, daddy,” he revels in the praise, and you hear him chuckle on the other end.

“My little cockslut, loves getting stretched by me, hm?” Eddie’s voice is low, sending electricity right to your core. “Shit, baby, my cock’s twitching just thinking about you… ‘M so worked up.”

“Want you to cum for me, Eds. Are you close? Love it when you cum for me,” you’re whining, fingers now circling your clit in rapid movements, getting closer and closer to your release.

“So close, sweetheart, wish I could cum all over that pretty face of yours,” Eddie moans into the speaker, little whispers of shitshitshit falling from his lips. “This picture’s one of my favorites, baby… my cock buried deep in your pussy from behind… my hand gripping your hair. Pretty ass of yours on perfect display f’me, fuck-” he’s tugging desperately on his cock at this point, whimpering into the phone.

“What about the one with me in handcuffs? Legs spread on your bed, waiting for you?” you hum, egging him on, getting him right to the edge of release as you describe the lewd photo.

Eddie doesn’t answer, just lets out a strangled moan on the other end of the line. The two of you go on like that for a little, mewls slipping past your lips, getting wetter as you listen to him cursing, panting, moaning your name. The soft pads of your fingers work on your clit, your insides feeling like they’re on fire with how worked up you are. Your eyes are shut tight, imagining Eddie settling you on his lap as he fucks up into you.

“Baby - fuck - I’m gonna fucking cum, shit,” Eddie whines, bringing you back to reality for a moment.

“Cum for me, baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you coax him, listening closely to hear the way his breath hitches as he finally lets go.

His moans are short and sporadic as he finishes all over his chest and stomach, and you continue to rub your swollen clit as he catches his breath.

“How you doing over there? Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna cum while you think about me? Bet you wish I was filling you up real good, huh?” Eddie’s relentless, talking you through the entire thing.

“Yes, daddy - fuck! Gonna cum, gonna cum for you, oh my god…” the coil in your stomach snaps finally, feeling yourself plummet into bliss. You’re clenching around nothing, moaning ‘EddieEddieEddie’ as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“That’s my good girl, you okay sweet thing?” Eddie coos, listening to you pant as your body calms down.

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How’re you?” you say softly into the phone once you’ve regained some composure, body spent as you lay back onto your pillows. You feel like you’re floating.

“I made a fuckin’ mess of myself, sweetheart, came so hard,” Eddie huffs a laugh, and you smile.

“Hey, Eds?”

“Yeah, sweets?”

“Take a Polaroid of you all messy with your cum. Wanna start a photo collection of my own,” you chew at your lip, getting flustered thinking about how he must look right now.

“Oh, yeah? And why do you want my photos, sweetheart? Wanna get yourself off to them?” Eddie asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you.

“Maybe….” you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.

“Fuck, baby. Can I come stay the night? I need to be inside you right now, no way I can wait till tomorrow,” you can picture the puppy dog eyes Eddie would be giving you if he was next to you right now, and you laugh.

“Yeah, Eds, get over here. Gotta live up to all that talk,” you reply, knowing he’s gonna live up to that talk and then some.

“Want me to bring the camera?” he asks.

“Duh.”

[nickfowlerrr]

always.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst (with a happy ending bc duh, it’s me). fluff. uh i think that’s all but if something important needs to be mentioned here, pls lmk!

words: 3.5k

notes: REPOST. this was not at all what i intended to write when i first got my aesthetic photo inspo but here we are lol. this is my fic submission for @pupandkisasaesthetics’ challenge and i hope you enjoy it. and a special thank you to @fandoms-writings for reading over the first draft of this for me and helping me out! i appreciate you so much, remi!! 🥰

thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! please let me know what you think. 🖤

The floorboards creak under your feet with every step you take. Your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. You ran out of tears a while ago. Your head throbs still, the headache lingering from the stress, and as you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror hung on the wall of the safe house, you know you look as dead as you feel.

You’re numb and yet your insides are aching, screaming at you.

That wasn’t it. He isn’t gone. It isn’t over.

It can’t be over.

As you pace the empty living room, back and forth, nonstop as you had been since you got back to the safehouse hours ago, the only thing you can do is torture yourself by replaying in your mind each and every step you took and every single word that left your mouth leading up to the explosion.

The explosion.

The deafening boom.

The ringing in your ears.

The shaking of the ground beneath you and of the walls around you.

The gripping fear when you realized where the bomb emanated from.

The neverending silence over static as you tried uselessly to get through to him.

The strong grip on your arm that pulled you from your stupor, that same strong hold that kept you from heading straight to where he was.

Your throat was sore from your yelling. From the cries you couldn’t hold back as you found yourself being urged into the jeep as they started back to safety. Just leaving him.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window as you raged.

But you couldn’t focus on the cruelty of the words you threw at the team, your supposed family, in your attempt to get them to stop. To do their jobs. To save him.

No.

Instead, the loop started right back over.

Walking into the base with Yelena at your side, Bucky in your ear with Sam on his six on the opposite end of the site.

It wasn’t meant to be dangerous. Not more than the usual. Just a simple search and clear of the abandoned base. You’d all done this a hundred times over.

You’d meet in the middle and give the go ahead when you were done.

But that didn’t happen.

You were smirking as you heard Bucky and Sam’s never ending back and forths over the comms as you and Yelena cleared out the east wing of the site.

“East wing clear, heading south. You two plan on doing your job or should we take out the west wing for you, too?” you joked lightly as you made your way down the long winding hall.

“Ya know I’d feel a lot better having you on my six than this stupid fucking robotic bird flying around my head,” Bucky groused.

“Yeah,” you laughed as your eyes scanned yet another empty old computer room, “well give me a minute and I’ll be right there to save you,” you simpered playfully.

“West wing clear and secured, heading south now. Think I’ll get to you first, but I-”

His voice was cut off simultaneously by the static and the boom of the unexpected explosion going off. You and Yelena both ducked, protecting your heads as the ground shook and a wave of vibrations from the blast moved around you. You popped your ear as you tried to orient yourself through the ringing, slowly standing after everything else went still. Your breaths heavy as confusion clouded you both. You checked each other, ensuring you were both alright before your heart skipped a beat. Yelena was talking on her comms with Steve as you were pressing on your own, you tried to communicate with Bucky despite the static still ringing over..

“Buck, you okay?”

Nothing.

“Bucky?” you asked again, growing more frantic internally though you tried to remain as collected as you could.

Still no response.

Your eyes shot to the hall across from you leading to the west wing. To where the explosion came from. To Bucky. You were frozen still.

You pressed on the comms, over and over, trying desperately to get through to him.

“Bucky?”

Silence.

“Buck, can you hear me?... Bucky? James?!” your voice only grew louder and more harsh the longer the silence stretched on. It was like you were stone, you couldn’t manage to move, couldn’t do anything other than try to call him. You hadn’t noticed when Steve and the others came in until Steve took hold of your arm, his touch pulling you from your spot.

You looked to him, eyes wide and blown, feeling like you’d just been kicked back into your physical body.

“What are we doing?” you asked harshly. “What am I doing?” you said, frenzied before you turned and tried to make a move down the hall no one else seemed to be heading toward. His hold on you tightened, keeping you from going, stopping you easily.

“You need to go, we have to get you guys out of here,” Steve said sternly, concern swimming in his gaze despite his levelheaded presence.

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me?” you struggled in his hold. “Bucky is over there, what the fuck are we doing?! Let go of me! I know you have no problem leaving the people you claim to love to suffer and figure it out for themselves, but I can’t do that,” you seethed. “I’m not leaving him, get the fuck off, someone needs to go get him!

“And you and that stupid fucking camera, letting him go in by himself,” you turned on Sam, “where the fuck were you?”

You didn’t realize how much you were struggling to breathe as you fought against your friends to get past them, you didn’t realize how easily you were unraveling as you spiraled quicker and quicker the more time stretched on. It hadn’t been more than a minute or two but it felt like an eternity.

“He’s not answering, okay, he’s not answering so someone needs to go find him. We need to get him! Why are we just standing here! He could be hurt, or trapped, or - fuck!”

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. But you are. You and you,” he eyed Yelena, “you two need to go. Bishop and Torres are at the first jeep - you guys need to clear the area. The less of us around to get hurt the better and there’s not much you can do.

But I promise you, I’m not leaving him. Okay? I swear,” Steve said as he stared into your welling eyes.

“You’re the last person I’d trust to keep a promise,” you bite harshly before being pulled away by Yelena. You didn’t fight her, though. A part of you knew Steve was right. There wasn’t much you could really do and the more people there were the more likely someone else would end up hurt, too.

Even still, when you got to the jeep, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to make a break for the west end of the site. How could you possibly live with yourself if you didn’t even try to go in and help him?

Your attempt was futile, though, and soon you were sobbing into your hands as Joaquin drove you all back to the safe house.

As you stood there now, still pacing aimlessly, guilt washed over you. You could clearly recall the subtle recoil from Steve, the pain and regret in his eyes, at your words.

You knew he’d never forgiven himself for leaving Bucky, you knew a part of him could never, and you knew it was a low blow to bring up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. You wanted him to remember. You needed him to. Because he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t just leave him there to.. No. He wasn’t.

That wasn’t even a possibility.

He couldn’t be.

He wasn’t.

You kept repeating it over and over again in your head as your eyes threatened to well anew.

He wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

—

It was past midnight when you had finally taken a seat on the lumpy sofa.

Kate’s earlier attempts at getting you to sleep were useless and only ended with you growling at her to leave you alone.

She, of course, ignored your snarling and stayed on the couch, just watching you. Her sympathetic gaze was as irking as it was easing.

She didn’t really say much, knowing not to push you, but just her being there had you feeling less like you were drowning. She grounded you a bit.

But she couldn’t take the fear away.

You felt her shuffle closer to you when you finally sat down but didn’t turn until her arms were around you, pulling you in.

You let out a broken breath as you turned into her and returned her hug.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured as she hugged you tighter. “He’s a supersoldier. And he has a vibranium arm. Odds are definitely in his favor,” she tried to lighten the mood.

When you didn’t respond, she pulled away slightly.

“Seriously,” she said as you pulled away from her, looking her in the eye, “we were watching surveillance while you guys were inside. Redwing, we think, set off whatever motion detector was set. He was a bit ahead of Bucky, so we know he wasn’t that close to the blast. The feed cut out, obviously, but.. I don’t know, I thought that’d maybe..help you.. feel better? I just-”

“No, I appreciate knowing that. Thank you. But honestly, I don’t think anything’s gonna help until I know for sure. Until he’s back here.”

The front door creeping open had both of you standing and turning at attention. You could almost feel your heart in your throat as your breathing stalled.

It was a perilous few seconds of nothing before Sam stepped inside.

He looked exhausted and worn and.. Solemn.

“Sam,” Kate edged gently.

There was a pit in your stomach as he looked between you and Kate for a moment before his gaze dropped and he shook his head.

A stunted gasp left Kate’s lips as your heart stuttered, eyes wide, your stomach dropping before the door was shoved open even more.

“Please, don’t get him started on that stupid bird again, for the love of god,” Bucky huffed as he walked in, trying to hide a slight limp before a smirk graced his face as he met your eye.

Everything seemed frozen in the moment you registered his voice and when your eyes met his you honestly thought for a second you were dreaming.

He was leaning against the open door, a relaxed smirk on his lips before he nodded to you, “What happened to you coming to save me, huh?”

You didn’t even register yourself moving until you crashed right into him, almost toppling Bucky over as you did. Your eyes were bleary with tears of relief as you sighed heavily, shakily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed as you crushed yourself to him even further, his solid arms holding you right back as you felt him press a kiss to your head.

“I was kidding, sweetheart. Don’t say you’re sorry,” he chided.

You pulled away from him, taking his face in your hands.

“You’re okay?” you asked.

“Always,” he answered, leaning closer to kiss you softly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Steve challenged as he came in behind Bucky. “But give it a few days, I’m sure you’ll be good as new.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked at Steve, shame again coming over you, even more now as Bucky’s arms were around you.

You looked away, taking a steadying breath as you took Bucky’s hands in yours.

“You should sit,” you said as he let you lead him away from the door, allowing Steve to close it. “Or shower, maybe?”

“You gonna join me?” he asked, his flirtatious nature never faltering.

“Have some decorum, some of us are in mourning, jackass,” Sam gruffed as he walked through the living room.

“Oh, Sam,” you called, stopping him. You walked up to him, as sincerely as you could, “I’m sorry,” you offered gently before punching him as hard as you could manage in his arm.

“Hey, what the hell?” he said incredulously as he held his arm.

“You deserved that one,” Kate said as she came to stand next to him. “I really thought Bucky bit the big one for a second,” she chuckled, “I am sorry about Redwing, though.”

“Why are you sorry for a robotic bird, I’m the one who almost got blown up,” Bucky interjected.

“Almost being the operative word there. Redwing, on the other hand, did get blown up.”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” Bucky groused, walking past the living room to the bathroom on the other side of the stairs. “I am gonna shower, sweetheart. Would you grab my bag from upstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.”

You watched Sam and Kate go upstairs but you were too caught up in your own mind to really pay attention to their conversation. You saw Steve about to make a move to follow them, looking tired and ragged himself.

You followed him, pulling his hand before he could make it up the steps.

“Hey,” you started. “Can we talk?”

He looked a little nervous, unsure, but nodded anyway.

“Sure,” he said, turning around to follow you.

You walked into the living room that was now empty before you turned to meet Steve’s eye.

“I am so sorry,” you apologized, voice thin as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “I don’t know why I- it doesn’t matter, you didn’t deserve that. It was uncalled for. And not true. And I am so, so sorry, Steve.”

“Tensions were high, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You’re his best friend, you would do anything for him. You love him. I know that, we all know that, and I never should have.. You did everything you could have,-”

“I didn’t—.”

“You did,” you insisted. “You did. And you and I both know he definitely wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. You’ve put your life on the line for him countless times, and even if you do hold yourself accountable for the train - which you shouldn’t - your slate would’ve been wiped clean about six life saves ago,” you smiled lightly, earning a small smile from him in turn.

“He’d do the same for me. He has done the same for me,” he laughed softly. “‘M just glad he’s alright.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For getting him out. For being there for him. I went a little crazy when I thought he was hurt,” you looked down, ashamed at yourself.

“I can’t blame you. Been there before. But he’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re all okay.”

You nodded, meeting his eye once more before you hugged him tightly, his own arms coming around you to return the affection.

“He’s more banged up than he’s letting on,” Steve said as he pulled away, “you should check on him. I’ll throw your bags down, you guys can take the room down here.”

“Thank you, Steve. Really,”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled before heading back for the stairs.

As you made your way to the bathroom Bucky was occupying, you heard a low grunt followed by a hiss of pain. Knocking lightly, you gave him a second before you let yourself in.

The deep purple bruises that littered his torso had you grimacing for him sympathetically.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you know they’ll be gone this time tomorrow.”

“That’s not the point,” you argued, stepping in further, shutting the door behind you.

You walked up to him, lightly running your hand down his torso while pouting mindlessly.

His thumb found your lip as he pulled it down, getting your attention. “I’m fine,” he assured you.

“You could’ve gotten really hurt, Bucky. You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t. I’m right here. Right where I want to be,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

You let your head rest against his chest as he held you, your arms finding their way around him.

“I was so scared,” you whispered pathetically, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of fear before. I hated it.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured into your hair. You shook your head, brushing off his needless apology before you took a heavy breath.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you confessed.

“You’re not ever gonna lose me, sweetheart. I’ll always find my way back to you,” he said softly, still holding you against him, “Always.”

A part of you wanted to argue the inevitable. One day, hopefully not one so soon, one of you would lose the other. That was life, wasn’t it?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to challenge him. It was nicer to believe that he was right. He’d always find his way back to you, and you would always find your way back to him.

Always.

You reached your hands up to gently rake your fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Never been better,” he simpered easily, enjoying the feeling of your affectionate touch.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders before sliding them down his solid chest, your fingers soothing comfortingly along his skin.

“The truth?” you prodded quietly, flitting your gaze up to meet his brilliant blue eyes in a request for his honesty.

He was quiet for a second before he took a heavy breath, his hands finding and holding yours before he lifted one to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “The truth is, I’m gonna be okay,” he responded in earnest.

You allow your hand to cradle his stubbled cheek as you keep his loving gaze, finding comfort in the warmth of his eyes.

“Should we talk about it?” you ask, a little hesitant to bring it up, not wanting to let show how unnerved you were still feeling. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him when he said he was alright, but still you wanted to know exactly what happened, you wanted to know what he was going through back there. And selfishly, you knew you needed to know everything before you’d start feeling any kind of alright, either.

Bucky’s gaze softened even more at your question. Sam and Steve had told him you were worried, but he hadn’t realized how upset you really were while they were back there. Aside from being banged up by the blast and being trapped in the hallway he’d been in for a good while while Sam and Steve worked to get through the wreckage of the site to get him out, he really was okay. Especially when he knew you and everyone else were safe.

He didn’t feel the need to talk about it, but just from the look in your eyes he knew you did. So he didn’t have to think much at all before he answered.

“Yeah, we should talk about it,” he said, his hand on yours as you caressed his cheek. “Shower first?” he prompted, pulling you from your ever anxious thoughts.

You nodded, “Good idea.”

You turned to leave the slowly steaming bathroom as the shower continued to warm, but were stopped by Bucky the moment he realized you were going for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna grab your bag,” you laughed lightly, but not pulling away from his hold.

“You’re coming right back?” he questioned. “I was away from you for more than long enough already tonight, you can’t be gone too long.”

“I’ll be right back,” you tittered, a lightness returning to you the longer you were around him.

“You better be. If you take anything away from tonight, it should be that you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, doll,” he smirked playfully as he let you go.

“I wouldn’t dream of even trying,” you said before leaning back in to kiss him softly. “You know I love you, Bucky, right? More than anyone, or anything, ever. You know that?”

“I do. But I don’t mind the reminder,” he smiled into another gentle kiss. “You know I love you more?”

You kissed him deeper at that, not realizing how much desperation was fueling you until you finally pulled away, leaving both of you a little breathless.

Your eyes were pinched shut as you tried to keep hold of yourself, pressing in close to Bucky once more.

“You can’t ever leave me. You can’t,” you whispered desperately.

Bucky’s light grip on your chin had you looking up at him, bleary eyes and a soft pout on your lips as you met his intent gaze.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I wouldn’t ever dream of it. I’ll always get back to you. I promise. Always.”

[403tarot]

. . . NSFW Q&A ATEEZ HONGJOONG + SAN ✶

* yesterday i was chatting with my friends and they made some nsfw asks about hongjoong & san so i decided to share it here <3

** all answers were given based on tarot cards, take it lightly etc etc etc. just for your information, both askers are women.

SAN

what nicknames does he like to use? does he like using pet names in sex or just calls by your name and stuff?

san doesn't usually use pet names, he kinda prefers using affectionate names like, "love," "baby," "honey"...

does he enjoy that whole thing of having sex while looking in the mirror? *cuz he has a big mirror on his bedroom

he would like the idea of having sex with someone while they can clearly see what he's doing to them. i asked if it has happened before, and it might have happened but not intentionally. he would also like to see through the mirror to get another angle or just like something about self-affirmation here... like "look at what i'm doing to you now"

what's he like during aftercare?

he doesn't do aftercare like "oh now i'm going to do aftercare because it's important after sex"; it's something that happens naturally. when it's with someone he likes, san lays down with his partner, cuddle, and talk about random things, just chatting.

knowing he wouldn't be rough with me... would he slap me in the face without me having to formally ask? *i'm not thinking about a hard slap though, just gentle taps on the cheek like in blowjob or smth

not on the face. without you asking him to, san would like to slap you in other body parts, he would do that anyway because he enjoys it. on the face... he wouldn't even think about it, but if you asked for it, he would – very carefully but he would.

what about overstimulation? giving and receiving

san would enjoy overstimulating you, feeling in control with it... he might get a taste of being sadistic and mistreating you by making you orgasm so much, the thought of it would turn him on. but about receiving... maybe he would try it experimentally once but then i see he wouldn't like it/wouldn't be able to handle it then san would ask to stop or try to dodge it.

can we delve into the theme "san would like it if you two acted like puppies together" as a treat? [op is a pet play enthusiastic and is referring to the sexual reading i took for her & san]

san would prefer to act as the owner most of the time but he would also like both of you to act as pets. it's something like "can i also try it?" by the way, using a collar would be something that turns him on... having his collar pulled. so yeah, it would be a topic that really heats up for him, and if you two acted like you were puppies together san would really enjoy having sex like that. freaky sex.

i remember when you did my sexual reading with him, it came out things like he would enjoy if i stayed on top of him [in sex] but is there any other position he likes/prefer?

he would like positions where his dick goes in deep and where he can play with your pussy while fucking you, but his favorite would be you riding him. positions where he can see his dick going in and out as well, from behind also to see your ass, positions that give him access to your neck... he would be the guy who likes to hold your neck not to do breath play but just to put his hand on it (?)

knowing he can be a fan of explicit pics, what kind of photo turns him on the most?

he prefers to be surprised with a photo and not have to ask for it, just like getting a regular pic and then a more provocative one. he likes cute (kawaii?) aesthetic but also sexy & elaborated photos, might like the person dressed up for him then with lingerie or nice clothes/costumes. san might likes pics that show everything (explicit body parts!), pics posing especially sitting on thighs. he likes someone who knows how to take these photos, who puts on a little show, and then looks beautiful for him to keep. he might also likes to send this kind of photos.

HONGJOONG

what would hongjoong think of the idea of ME giving him a lap dance while i'm just wearing lingerie and he can't touch me until i tell him to?

hongjoong would be playful about it... "i can see it but i can't touch it, so close but also so far..." he would think in a bittersweet way. he would try to keep his hands to himself for the sake of the dynamic but there's a hint of impatience, he's not the most rational when horny

so would he disobey and touch me?

yes.

would he let me suck him under the table while he's working in the studio? [oh she's a real one]

actually he would really like that. a lot. the world card, just do it and he'll think about it like it's part of his creative process.

is he the kind of guy who would mark me in places that could be seen? like a hickey on the neck and stuff? even if it was unintentionally?

visible places, no. as for non-visible places, he might like to leave some marks but it would be more like slap marks, marks from gripping... all of it hidden though. and biting, of course ...

hongjoong may have a tendency for playing a "cruel"/cold role or lightly sadism and masochism along with psychological games. what exactly would he enjoy in psychological games?

there was a vibe going towards roleplaying of dubious consent like forcing something until the other person accepts.

i want to know if hongjoong is also an overstimulation enjoyer

he wouldn't enjoy doing overstimulation on you but he would enjoy receiving it. he would like to be induced to overstimulation. hongjoong would try to endure it properly... so eager for control, even if it's just to challenge himself.

what positions would he enjoy doing with me?

he would really like positions where you make eye contact, where he can see your face. he would like having sex with you standing out of the bed and seeing you riding him while he holds your boobs.

this isn't sexual but if i were dating hongjoong and a guy flirted with me in front of him, how would he react? (don't need to delve, just see the reaction like if he would say something or pretend nothing is happening, if he would make a face...)

he wouldn't handle it well. he doesn't really like to feel jealousy and for him it's not funny so he would feel kinda bad but would try to show that he's with you. he would come, grab you by the waist, "love, who's this you're talking to?" in a bittersweet voice then pull you away from there. he would get very touchy-feely to keep you close because he doesn't handle jealousy well but wouldn't verbalize it... although his actions betray him.

you can also get answers like these with hongjoong, san or any other idol of your choice buying a combo of questions ❤️‍🔥 dm me to know prices and additional infos about it !

[ventismacchiato]

13 behind the lens — caught in 4k !

scaramouche x g!n reader

“More like this,” Kuni mumbles, leaning forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he goes back to kneeling down on the ground and taking a photograph of you.

He’d picked you up from class and led you to a park, laying petals in your hair and arranging your limbs into different positions all afternoon. It was a little exhausting but the feeling of content you felt everytime he showed you the screen of his camera was worth it.

You couldn’t believe anyone saw you like that. He had a tender look fleet through his eyes that made your heart feel heavy. It was bittersweet.

“I think I’m good, I’ll send these to you,” Kuni muses, letting his camera dangle off his neck as he makes his way back towards you, plucking a petal out of your hair.

“You sure took a lot…did we need to for the assignment?” you ask, dodging as he tried to chuck a flower at your face.

“No, I just wanted extra photos of you,” he shrugs, picking up your school bag from the ground and draping it across his shoulder as he started to walk off.

“Hey! You owe me some photos then too,” you call out, catching up beside him.

“Didn’t know you were so dirty-minded,” he chuckles.

“Not those kinds of photos!”

“I never knew you were into plushies?”

“I’m really not, by you are so I thought I’d get you one. Or however many of these weird fucks you want.”

You hide your grin as you pick up a teddy bear off the shelf, hiding your face behind it.

“I knew you’d like it,” he says, following you to a booth. He picked one with three seats and takes the teddy bear from you, setting it down on the free seat.

“What’s not to like about a couples cafe filled to the brim with plushies?” you marvel, picking up the menu.

Neither of you have had the official couple talk, but it was assumed you both were a pair. You weren’t ready to make it official just yet, just like you weren’t ready to tell him your identity.

“Uhm, excuse me! Sorry to bother but are you Scaramouche?”

You both look up from your menus at a girl around your age, carrying a takeout bag with one hand and the other palm clutching her mouth in shock.

Scaramouche raises a brow and looks taken aback for a mere moment before composing himself, “That would be me, are you a fan?”

“The biggest! It’s so nice to meet you I can’t believe this is happening!” she gushes, a grin on her face as she waves around her phone, “Can I get a picture with you?”

“…sure,” he says, sending you an apologetic look as the girl turns to you, taking in your appearance for a quick second with a judgmental stare before handing you her phone, “Can you please take a photo of us?”

“Sure,” you slowly say, trying to mask your voice and taking the phone from her and snapping a few photos of the two of them. You and Kuni hadn’t even taken a photo together yet.

“Thank you uh…Scara’s friend,” she smiles, shooting a wink to Scara and skipping off.

“Sorry about that,” Kuni immediately apologizes after the girl leaves, “Shit like that has been happening since my face reveal.”

“It’s fine,” you assure, eyes scanning the menu, gnawing your lip unconsciously.

“Are you mad?”

“No,” you huff, before setting the menu down, “We don't have any photos together!”

Kuni stifles his snicker, “Is that it? If you wanted a fucking photo you didn’t have to ask.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Just get over here we’ll use my camera.”

“Can the bear be in it?”

“For fucks sake fine.”

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

what’s ur guys’ boba orders? i like mango slush w strawberry boba and i gave scara black sesame cus it isn’t very sweet and it matches his aesthetic

the picture that’s supposed to be you doesn’t depict body size, gender, or ethnicity, just the pose and place!

end of act one 🎬

author’s notes — so i moved to college dorms and i have nothing to do until classes start so i’m writing this to help alleviate my anxiety 😭

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @heehooyeslol @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @i9tto @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @orbitscara @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko [1/3]

[weebsinstash]

Now Im interested on the "What if the 3 Vs passed Reader around like a blunt"

I kind of meant it in like a "what if you were some weird shared friend/pet" but I've seen people HC that the 3Vs are poly, although we've never seen any canon confirmation of this and on the Instas it was always Vox who was Val's explicit partner

Although to be nasty I feel like Velvette would be fucked up enough to watch Reader get railed by Val and Vox. Like in some party scenario where you're with all 3 in their house and Valentino dopes you up or something, she's just like, recording you getting spitroasted on her phone

I usually imagine these sorts of scenarios as Reader meeting Val and then slowly drawing the attention of the others, although Vox really has grown on me and I hope we see more of him these last two episodes. Anyways i'm starting to like the idea of Reader meeting Vox first. Like can you imagine you get hired on as a coder or a programmer or a product developer, and he's patrolling the facilities or checking in on a specific project and that's when you meet. He either notices the quality of your work or your manager brings it up to him, or there's some massive metaphorical fire you put out (like that woman who saved toy story 2 from being completely erased because she had all the files backed up, something like that)

You and Vox get to talking, getting along, having similar tastes. He starts giving you different projects, ones he thinks are better suited to your skills (and also put you in closer proximity to him). Fucking liar is arranging shit like company calendars or company events where there are photoshoots JUST so he has an excuse to pose with you for a photo. I mean, it makes sense right? Why would you question your boss wanting to take a celebratory photo at the release of a huge product launch? And you're happy and feeling so respected and successful and being friendlier with him the more you settle into Hell and feel safer, and then I imagine Vox's way of being "obvious" is that he's like, easily nervous or a nervous laugher , I dunno. It's all preference but I like yandere/antagonists who keep their cool a little bit but then it's also cute when they fawn over you 🥰 like the people who know him see the way he laughs around you and they Instantly Know

But then, maybe Val is perceptive enough to notice, "hey why does my man keep taking photos with this one specific person". Like maybe Vox is trying to be slick with it and all the photos are group shots but Val notices that every single photo has you in it and some of the photos are for really minor events he knows Vox wouldn't normally care about. Vox slips up one day when you and him are "sharing a car to go to a company event" which totally isn't like a catered dinner that there are only going to be SO many people at, TOTALLY NOT an incognito date that you're complerely unaware of the intentions behind, and Vox has to stop in back home to grab something, or you get pulled inside for a moment just to wait, he's gotta grab a laptop or a flash drive and, suddenly here's Velvette, "Vox I'm borrowing your nerdy employee, I'm short someone and I need a model for something" and you're getting dragged away

Vox is freaking out thinking you got swiped by Val and he's zipping through the electrical lines in the house (the electro-teleportation shit really is SUCH a game changer), and he finds you trying on things with Velvette, "oh my gosh I've never worn something this nice before, thank you for giving me the opportunity to try it on ^^" and Velvette is so pompous that any praise goes right to her head, and now Vox gets to see you all styled in... whatever. Velvette waves a finger, "now you two match!" as she puts you in an outfit with Vox's aesthetic and color scheme, and she's doing it to tease the both of you but she IMMEDIATELY notices "oh hey Vox what's that look on your face >:3c does someone have a crush?"

SHE would be the fucking gossip who would tell Val honestly. Actually new headcanon lmao: the Vs rarely want to share you but will rat each other out for "having you" in a heart beat. Velvette and Vox hide you from Val, but any of them will gladly steal you from the other lmao. God, a yandere Vox who's lucid and tryna keep his behaviors under wraps, keep it to pictures, stalking and looking from afar, and then you have the other two Vs like SHOVING YOU at him as like, a joke to watch him squirm and blush. They'd be randomly bringing you along just to tease him and watch him sweat. Valentino hits Vox up for a date or a night out and the tv demon shows up and you're there too lmao

I feel like these three are the worst because they all have the capacity to be obsessed with your appearance. Velvette is an influencer, Vox is a TV mogul and tech CEO, and Valentino... obviously we don't need to comment on his penchant for having arm candy. All of them are obsessed with their appearance and their brand and one of them is literally a tailor with magical clothes changing powers. You could have something like the other two Vs show up while you're serving Val drinks and Velvette cocks her brow, "hey, why doesn't this one have a proper uniform?" And she just starts zapping you into different varying levels of exposed outfits that match the other employees at the strip club and Val's aesthetic just for kicks as the big man himself oogles you like a pervert and his boyfriend is pretending he's not interested but, his screen is totally turning red

Tbh I'm suddenly thinking of like, imagine thinking "your body is safe" because Val has never come onto you and, you aren't sleeping with anyone and, you get upset one night and do some self harming behaviors. Velvette or Valentino comes and demands you try something on or you get nonconsensually zapped into something and there are cuts hidden on your body. Velvette is furious because this affects how you look in her clothes and what she can dress you up in, Vox is you know concerned because idk I imagine he knows what it's like to be horribly insecure and feel like you aren't good enough, and Valentino probably loves having you constantly half naked and the self harm scabs? Not hot, babe. Obviously they're all upset over you hurting yourself but, these are occasional feelings on top of that

Ugh I dunno just. They all have power and influence and money and they're all crazy and I'm over here kicking my feet and twirling my hair with thoughts of being objectified in allllll the fun ways

[auteurdelabre]

Please Mr. Miller Sequel part 2 bfd!Joel x f!Reader

summary: You're moving on from Joel Miller and looking to a bright future with your bf, Conrad. When Mr. Miller comes to visit Sarah for spring break however, old feelings start to resurface.

A sequel (1 of 5 parts now) to my "Please Mr. Miller?" Series because you voted and you want to see these two horny idiots as endgame! Photo is for aesthetic purposes.

rating: 18+ (GET OUTTA HERE KIDS!!!!)

warnings/tags: Infidelity, age gap, angst, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, public sex, public fingering, not sanitary but sexy, mutual pining, jealousy.

a/n: Y'all between here and A03 i've got such an outpouring of comments and support for this story. I thank you so kindly for following along with the adventures of my two favorite horny sluts. Comments are what keep me goin'.

masterlist here

-------------------------------

Fuck Joel Miller. 

You're over him. You've got a loyal boyfriend, you've been accepted into the master's program you wanted and you've never been happier.

Okay, not happier but content. 

And some people never get content. Content you can live with. Happiness is reserved for girls that don’t pursue and foolishly fall for married men. Happiness is reserved for girls that don’t lie to their best friend’s face about who they talk to.

Sarah had been wide-eyed when you opened the bathroom door at the pub last month.

“Who were you talking to?”

Your stomach had sunk and the room seemed to get dimmer, more muted. You went to speak but all that came out was a baleful croak.

“It was him wasn’t it?” she pressed, eyes bright. “The guy you’re pining over? The married guy?”

Relief, acute and refreshing like a cup of cool water soothed your frazzled expression. She didn’t know everything.

“Yeah.”

“Sounded intense.”

“A moment of weakness,” you shrugged.

“His name’s Joe?”

“Huh?” Your stomach swooped violently. “What did you just say?”

“I heard,” Sarah said with a knowing smile. “I was about to open the door when I heard you say I can’t stop wanting you, Joe.”

You wanted to give a high pitched laugh at her mistake, but instead you nodded violently. She didn’t hear your plaintive moans of Joel’s full name. So yes, its Joe. Not Joel. Never Joel. Couldn’t be Joel Miller, your father, the man you want more than air and water. No, just a married guy named Joe.

“Yeah. Joe.”

“Just dump Conrad,” Sarah urged, hands on yours, compassion in her eyes. If she only knew. You knew Sarah had a high moral compass. You knew that she hated that you were pining over some married guy.

“I don’t need to dump Conrad. Nothing is happening between me and this guy,” you said motioning to your phone in your pocket. “I want him he doesn’t want me. I’m moving on.”

And so you did.

Conrad worships you and tomorrow is the first day of spring break. Conrad has suggested a week away at a spa in Ibiza (he'll pay for everything of course with Daddy and Mummy’s credit card) and you're eager to go. It’s a mere forty eight hours before you're pampered and spoiled with your handsome boyfriend.

And yet your thoughts continue to linger on a home on Rancher Street, in the arms of a man who wears a wedding band snugly around his finger. A man who’s voice sends you into a frenzy and the memories of your forbidden time together have you slick between the legs.

But he’s not for you.

He never was.

///

“Okay Dad, see you soon.”

Sarah hangs up just as you come back from the shower, hair still damp and dressed in your plush pink terrycloth robe.

“Do you think that new restaurant on campus is any good?” she says as she taps away on her phone. “My dad’s taking me for dinner when he gets here. Hopefully they have an opening for tonight.”

She continues swiping on her phone, unaware of the stricken expression on your face.

"I thought your Dad was coming Saturday," you say sharply. "After Conrad and I leave. That way I wouldn't be in your hair and you’d have the dorm to yourself."

"He said the airline cancelled tomorrow’s flight and rescheduled him on this one," Sarah shrugs. "Its fine, he got a hotel room so you don't have to worry about being in the way. Besides he loved you last time! Last week he even asked how you were doing. He's never been that nice to any of my other friends."

You drop the toiletry bag you were carrying; mumbling out an apology before dropping to your knees to retrieve it, hoping Sarah can’t see your red face.  

Joel is asking about you? Why? After his drunken phone call he'd been radio silent. You had been as well, feeling used. You try not to think about him.

You need to get out of here. 

You blow-dry your hair in a rush before applying your makeup in a hurry as Sarah studies in the tufted chair by the window. She doesn’t notice your frenzy of getting ready or if she does she doesn’t comment on it.

“Excited for Ibiza?”

“Mhmm,” you say as you pull on your skirt and top. “Very. I think I’m gonna go over to Con's dorm and go over last minute plans for tomorrow.”

“Things seem better between you two,” Sarah offers hopefully.

“Yeah,” you lie through your teeth as you pull on your purse. “Have a nice visit with your Dad.”

You give her a quick hug, fumbling for your keys as you stuff them in your bag. You open the door as you slip on your shoes, letting out a small oh as the door reveals a large figure standing behind it.

Him.

Joel.

Everything in your body comes alive at once. His eyes widen at the sight of you, a look that travels the length of your body before landing limpid and warm on your face. You watch the lust overtake his eyes, blowing the pupils wide. His hand clenches at his right, so tight you see the veins bulge.

Time has only added to the masculine curve of his nose, the sharp of his jaw. You don’t have photos of him and social media had given up nothing. You only had some old blurry Polaroids on Sarah’s vanity mirror to go off of. He lived in your memory so long that actually seeing him here in front of you takes the breath from your body.

You’re so thankful for the tall young man behind him wearing a football jersey that slowly comes into view behind Joel. He’s handsome with an easy smile and large hands that seem too big for his lanky frame.

“Sarah,” you call over your shoulder, your eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Your Dad is here and I think he brought you a surprise.”

Sarah rounds the corner of the room, her eyes landing on Charlie and she squeals.

“Charlie!”

You move back so that Charlie can drop his bag and move into the dorm room, sweeping Sarah up into his arms and twirling her giggling self. You force yourself to look away from the motion, bitterly jealous that it isn’t you and Joel. Instead your reunion is awkward and stilted. You feel his eyes on your profile but you can’t force your eyes back to him.

He ignores you. He uses you.

Move on from him.

Charlie and Sarah are deep in loud conversation interspersed with chaste kisses. Joel takes advantage of this, stepping towards you and lowering his voice to a husky murmur only heard by you.

“Hey, I know I haven’t-“

“Don’t,” you warn in a whispered rasp. “Just…don’t.”

Now your eyes meet his and you see the searching quality of them, how they gaze into your face as if entranced. You wonder if he’s memorizing your face the way you are his. A secret sketch in your brain so that you have it when he’s gone and nothing more than a memory.

Sarah breaks the moment to embrace her father, pressing thankful hugs around his neck and whispered thank you's. You want to leave the room but Joel is blocking the doorway. Sarah moves back, going to chatter more with Charlie.

Joel’s eyes slide over to where his daughter and Charlie face away from him as she turns the corner and shows her boyfriend her modest dorm room and the photo of the couple that she keeps beside her bed.

“Snowflake,” Joel whispers, drawing your gaze to his once more. It’s a soft, broken thing that makes your heart lurch. Your eyes fall to his mouth, desperate to feel his lips on your again before you tear them away, your thumb digging into the flesh of your ring finger. You wonder if Joel wants to apologize for the phone call last month. Or if he wants to ask if you can do it again.

You don’t know what you’d say. The irritation at being cast aside currently outweighs the churning lust you feel. At least you thought it did, until you saw him here, smelled his cologne and watched the pink of his tongue trail over his lower lip to wet it.

"I was-"

“Hey babydoll,” comes a cheerful voice from down the hall. You turn your head to see Conrad strolling towards you, a broad smile plastered over his features. And for once you’re genuinely delighted to see him and his smug, handsome face.

“Hey,” you say with saccharine sweetness. You shoulder past Joel into the hall, throwing yourself into Conrad’s arms. He eagerly sweeps you up, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You feel eyes on you and your face heats as you slowly pull back. “What’re you doing here?”

“Thought we could go over the itinerary for the trip,” Conrad says pulling out his phone. “See what treatments you’d like.”

“Treatments?”

A low voice sounds from behind you and with satisfaction you see Joel eyeing the two of you icily. His broad arms are crossed in front of his chest and like a grim reminder you see his wedding ring glitter under the lights of the hallway

“Spa treatments,” you say with a smug smile. “Conrad is taking me to Ibiza for spring break.”

See Joel? I’ve moved on just like you.

Charlie and Sarah have come back out with Sarah giving Conrad a weak smile. Despite everything you know she doesn’t like him but she also doesn't like the deception of knowing you have affection for 'Joe'.

“Where are you guys goin’?” Charlie asks sweetly.

“Ibiza,” you say proudly, as if Conrad is a self made man and not some entitled trust fund baby. You don’t miss the narrowing of Joel’s eyes as your hand tightens in Conrad’s.

“Woah,” Charlie says in amazement as Joel just sucks at his teeth, giving a brief nod. He doesn’t look away from your face until Sarah steps further into the hallway, her eyes on you and her hand in Charlie’s.

“I’m so jealous,” Sarah says before stopping herself and smiling at her dad and Charlie. “Well, I was before you guys showed up. Now I don't wanna be anywhere else."

"Makes two of us babygirl," Joel grins at his daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Three of us actually," Charlie adds and the group laughs.

“Conrad this is Charlie, Sarah’s boyfriend,” you say making introductions and smiling as the two young man shake hands. You pause and swallow before motioning to Joel standing there awkwardly to the side, watching the proceedings. “And this is Sarah’s dad, Joel.”

“Nice to meet ya, sir,” Conrad says shaking Joel’s hand firmly.  Joel simply nods in return before shoving his hand back into his jean pockets. His dark eyes find yours over Conrad’s head and you force yourself to look away.

Conrad seems to spot the jersey that Charlie is wearing for the first time. “You a Garopollo fan, Charlie?”

“Yup,” Charlie nods proudly. “I was born in San Fran and I’ll die a 49ers fan no matter where I live.”

“Traitor,” Joel jokes, causing the men in the vicinity to laugh.

“We can’t all be die hard Dallas Cowboy fans,” Charlie teases back with a gentle nudge to Joel’s shoulder that the older man grins at.

“I like the Patriots myself,” Conrad says while you and Sarah exchange looks of gentle exasperation.

“Great,” Sarah rolls her eyes dramatically. “Football. I’ll be here all night.”

“We should go and let you guys get to your dinner,” you say tugging at Conrad’s shoulder playfully. “Let’s go, babe.”

"You two should come with," Joel says casually out of nowhere.

Everyone makes a murmur of surprised delight at the suggestion while you try to hold down the panic that’s festering within your innards. How can you sit at dinner with Joel? You want to be as far away from him as possible. Just being this close has your skin feeling itchy, like you want to peel it off.

“No, no it’s a family thing,” you insist, trying to guide Conrad away.

“No way,” Sarah says stepping forth and taking your elbow. “Don’t make me sit through a dinner of football talk by myself.”

“My treat,” Joel adds with a voice that sounds detached.

"That's not necessary," Conrad says looking at Joel's flannel and jeans. "I'm happy to pay for myself and my girl."

You don't miss the tic in Joel's jaw at this, the chill in his gaze blinked away when he turns his face into an easy smile.

"Alright then. Let’s go." 

///

Sarah didn’t manage to make reservations at Bon Bon but Conrad promises that he can get you all in with no problem.  When you all arrive and Conrad drops his last name the restaurant is only too happy to accommodate a larger party. You glance over at Joel when that happens, gratified to find him glaring at the back of Conrad’s head.

The pretty hostess takes you to a large hand-carved booth tucked away in the corner. It’s got beautiful red roses in the center and long draping white tablecloth that probably costs more than all your college textbooks combined.  

"S'fancy in here," Joel mutters to Sarah and you think he sounds embarassed. You feel a stab of guilt at showing Conrad off like some prize. Even now Joel in his flannel and jeans is so much more enticing than Conrad in his lawn shirt and trousers.

Joel slides in and sits at the end of the table like a king holding court. You and Conrad curl around one side, Sarah and Charlie on the other. Conrad and Charlie haven’t stopped talking since they started on your walk over to the restaurant.

“And I don’t even think that they have a shot for the Superbowl this year.”

“Fucking Superbowl,” Conrad rolls his eyes. “That’s just a chance to sell ad space; it’s not a real game.”

You and Sarah exchange a look of boredom before diving into your menus. You wish you weren’t sat next to Joel in the booth, but Conrad always likes to sit on the outer rim of them because he claims it’s a power position. Fucking ridiculous.

You all chat amiably about what you’re going to drink before Sarah suggests you and her share a Sangria pitcher. You nod eagerly, knowing that alcohol may help to soothe your high strung nerves. Joel and the Charlie order a beer when the server comes by and you don’t miss how Conrad has to order the most obnoxious sounding wine on the menu, all the way to rolling his r’s to hit the Spanish pronunciation.

As she leaves Conrad’s arm goes behind your shoulder in the booth casually and you lean back into it, watching from under your lids as everyone talks. After a moment you go back to your menu, trying to pick what you want when your stomach feels like it’s coming out your bellybutton. Joel doesn’t look your way as you do this, but it’s like you feel him.

“Are you guys doing any excursions when you’re over there.”

“Dunno,” Conrad shrugs playfully. “I’m up to do whatever she wants, I’m just there to carry the luggage.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and you grin up at him. He’s being so devoted, so charming. You know that from the outside it fools most people and even you get sucked into it sometimes. It makes you temporarily forget the pouting when things don’t go his way or the way he pays off everything to avoid conflict.

The group continues to talk about differing travel locales they want to visit. Sarah wants to got o Greece, Charlie to Spain and you mention Italy.

“I want to people watch there,” you say with a crooked smile. “It seems the perfect place for it.”

“We’ll have to go there next then,” Conrad winks at you. You let him kiss your mouth, despite how he knows that you despise of public affection. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he tells the group that the steak here is amazing.

At the first graze you think a spider has crawled over your knee. Your hand sweeps over your bared kneecap, hoping to brush it off when a large hand falls over yours, pinning yours to your thigh. You try to keep your features schooled, but your eyes dart to Joel’s profile beside you. He’s looking over the menu, lower lip stuck out in thought. You feel his thumb rub tiny circles into the top of your hand, almost lovingly. It makes you clench up everywhere.

His long fingers circle your wrist and under the tablecloth he tugs your hand into his lap where you find him hard through the denim of his jeans. Your mouth goes dry as he encourages your fingers to squeeze him through the fabric, palming his thickness.

Joel makes a soft sighing noise that could be a casual contemplation of what to order, his gaze on the menu.  But then his dark eyes dart to your face briefly before he’s dragging your hand harder against his cock.

Everything in you wants to keep going. To feel his cock throb in your hands. To make him come right there at the table. But you don’t. You remember how he last left things on the phone and you feel your irritation churn in your guts.

Fuck him. You’re not here to be his personal fuck toy whenever he throws crumbs of affection your way.

You tug your hand back slowly, not wanting to arouse suspicion before you drag your hand back up, using both to look at the menu as Charlie, Sarah and Conrad complain about the lack of good movies in the theaters these days.

It’s not until the food is delivered and you’re two glasses of sangria in that you feel the gentle graze again. Its feather light on your inner kneecap, tracing the bone there and you feel goosebumps rise all along your body at the sensation. Yet you force yourself to swallow and agree out loud that the Cillian Murphy will probably win best actor.

You keep your hands on the table, not looking at Joel. You furrow your brows only a little when Joel’s hand slowly slides up your bare knee to your thigh, rubbing gently. He’s leaned forward slightly, one hand around his beer. He looks casual, even relaxed as he does this, nodding and offering the odd comment as everyone eats and talks about school, politics, pop culture, sports. You can barely keep track because all you can concentrate on is the large, warm hand that is now sliding up under your skirt.

You take a bite of your salad, almost choking when a finger traces the damp slit of your cunt through your panties. Your eyes dart to Joel to see him resting his cheek boredly on one hand as if the entire ordeal is tiring to him before he takes a bite of potato. The rest of the table talks animatedly as only the young and carefree can.

You used to be like that.

You squirm, trying to dislodge Joel’s hand from your lap, but he has no intention of leaving. Instead you feel his finger curl around the edge of your panties, testing your warmth, feeling your arousal seeping into your gusset. You feel Joel’s dark eyes slide over your face before he joins in on the conversation with Charlie and Conrad about the latest sports team. You can’t be bothered to ask which on because Joel’s thick finger has breached your cunt now, leaving you with wide eyes and trembling as you try to bring another forkful of your steak salad to your lips.

He pumps his middle finger into your welcoming cunt, a small surprised smile on his lips as he listens to the conversations around the table. When the second finger joins the first and you feel your pussy milking them, you begin to breathe unsteadily, trying to swallow the moan that’s building there. But when his thumb taps at your clit and then rubs in slow circles you let out  a small whimper.

Conrad hears it, turning to see your cheeks flushed and sweat dotting your forehead. He gives a look of concern before leaning over and dropping his voice to a soothing murmur.

“You okay, babydoll?” Conrad asks his hand flying to your knee, dangerously close to Joel’s fingers.

“I’m fine,” you say shaking him off before his hand can touch your thigh. Joel’s own hand creeps back to his lap, glistening with your arousal. The sight of it is what sends you pushing against Conrad, desperate to find release.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you urge, nudging him out of the booth. Conrad nods, allowing you to slide out and lurch to the bathroom. You feel your heart pounding as your feet rush to the tiled bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

You’re so achy between your legs you can’t believe it. You lean over the counter, watching as a woman exits the stall, her eyes lingering on your curved spine. She washes her hands, looking at your red face.

“You okay honey?”

“Mhmm,” you nod through clenched teeth. She nods, drying her hands before exiting. You try to catch your breath before you move into the far stall, your body slumping against the wall. You are about to close the door for privacy when a hand reaches out to tug it open. Joel is there, his broad shoulders twisting around

“Joel?”

When you see the fire in his expression you feel your coherent thought leave you. His pupils are blown so wide his eyes look black and the way he looks at you is nothing other than ravenous.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Making you come," is all he says before his he hits his knees.

You fall against the wall of the bathroom stall, hands flat against the cool metal. Joel's pulling down your panties, urging your thighs to part before his tongue is slipping between the lips of your cunt. You offer a small gasp before he begins to suck on your clit, tongue flicking as your knees buckle. It's sloppy and needy and feels so fucking sinful that you immediately go boneless.  

“My good girl,” comes the muffled endearment from between your legs. His broad grasp is around your thigh, urging it over his shoulder so you open yourself more to him. He inhales, groaning before his tongue is back to probing you deeply, coaxing your climax.

You let out little whimpers, eyelids fluttering as Joel’s fingers press into your sopping slot, murmuring to himself about how good you taste. You can’t control the way you start to unravel, letting him lick at you, taste you and praise you. You look down the length of your body to see his curly hair, his eyes half-opened, drunk with arousal. You think of how he’s ignored you for months and you want to push away from him but you can’t. It feels too good, too right.  

"Joel," you whisper, eyes wide as he wraps his teeth around your pulsing pearl."W-why?"

"I need to," Joel says, his breathing quick and sharp as his gaze meets yours. “Need to-“

The door opens and you hear two older women gabbing, chuckling to one another as Joel abruptly stands. You may be in the far stall, but a man on his knees is going to cause a scene if they glance the way of your stall, you’re sure of it.

You wait for him to grow anxious and wait them out, but instead he pulls his hard and throbbing cock from his jeans. Your eyes blow wide when he grips you by the middle, lifting you by the ass and urging your legs to wrap around his waist. You do it, feeling the cold metal of the stall wall against your spine as he pins you there with his body.

His hand goes over your mouth when he slides into you, groaning gently as he does, as if this is what he’s been living for all these months.

“Need to remind you who this pussy belongs to,” he murmurs against the curve of your ear when he begins to thrust into you. “Remind you who you come for.”

His hand remains stuck over your mouth, sealing in any disagreement from your side. He’ll have found none even if his hand was taken away. The sound of the women chatting is distant, in another world, like insects in the grass of a summer day.

“All that money and that pretty boy can’t make you feel half as good as me,” Joel grunts against your temple. “Cuz fucking him doesn’t feel as good as fucking a married man, does it?”

Your lower belly tightens, your brows saddle. You worry Joel doesn’t understand that being married is the least enticing part in all of this. That you just want him because he’s Joel Miller. But Joel is feral, fucking into you harshly as he maintains your silence.

“He doesn’t make you wet like this, does he?”

You shake your head, watching with fascination as Joel’s mouth curves into a triumphant grin. He thrusts faster, his breathing punched out with each pump before his mouth is on your ear again.

“He make you come just talkin’ to you on the phone?”

Another head shake.

“But you come so easily for me, don’t ya?” Joel grunts quietly. “Cuz your cunt was made for this cock. No one’ll ever make it feel as good as I do. And no cunt makes me feel as good as yours. Can’t get it outta my fucking head.”

You can’t help but whimper behind his palm at the sound of that because it almost sounds as if there’s longing in his voice.

“Shhh shhh shhh,” Joel hushes you, eyes widening slightly. The sound of the women washing their hands is heard distantly. “You don’t want us caught before you come do you?”

But he needn’t have worried. You’re there, fucking yourself against his thrusts as he sends you into a dizzying climax, one that has your eyes clenched tightly and your eyes ringing.

“I feel that,” he murmurs against your lobe. “I feel you squeezin’ me, baby. Fuck keep going. Ride it out.”

You come with his palm sealed tightly over your mouth, arching back as Joel watches you with appreciative awe, soaking his cock. The women exit the bathroom with casual laughter as they talk about the entrees and you shudder violently against the man who has you pinned to the wall. When he’s sure you’ve finished he slowly lowers you, waiting until your rubbery legs can stand independently.

Joel pulls himself from you slowly, his hardened cock waiting. You don’t even hesitate, you just sink to the floor and take him into your mouth, sucking as he winds his hands in your hair and fucks your mouth. You taste your mingled release when he comes down your throat seconds later, breathing in sharp little huffs of good girl my good girl as he does. You swallow it down, your eyes on him the entire time before he brings you to your feet.

His mouth is on yours, tongue tangling with yours as his hips pin you to the stall wall. Your hands clutch at his neck, lacing there before he pulls back, the heat from his eyes dimming as he realizes how far he’s gone. The air thick with tension as you both realize what a monumental mistake this was.

“You go back first,” he tells you huskily. “I’ll wait a few.”

You nod, smoothing down your clothes and hair, checking the mirror to make sure that your makeup is still presentable. You wash your hands and come back to the table to find the group finishing up.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Conrad asks as you slip in beside him. “You’re all flushed. I hope you’re not too sick for our trip.”

Of course that’s all he cares about. You’re convinced if you actually were sick Conrad would somehow blame you for it, as if it were within your control. Instead you just assure him with a tepid smile and a light head shake.

“No no, I’m fine. But I think we should head out. I wanna finish packing.”

You can’t be here when Joel gets back. Just the idea of catching sight of him after everything that’s happened has your knees buckling. Conrad throws back the remainder of his drink as you and he cast goodbyes to Sarah and Charlie.

“Let’s go,” Conrad says slipping an arm around your waist as he stands. “Just lemme pay.”

Your skin prickles as a husky voices sounds out behind you.

“No need,” Joel says with a smug smile as he approaches the table. “Already taken care of.”

[norrisleclercf1]

Little Family

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Pregnancy, slight nsfw picture, fluff, no angst I promise

Media AU/Epilogue

Parts: Pt 1. Little Traitor Pt.2 Little Backstabber Pt.3 Little Heartbreaker Pt.4 Little Home

A/N: And with that, Little Traitor is finished, I've never done an Media AU before but here it goes!!!

Liked by: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and 1,000,000 others

y/nofficial You’ve done it again my love, congratulations on the 3rd championship 🏆💋

maxverstappen1 I couldn’t have done it without you! mijn hele wereld, ziel en zon (my whole world, soul, and sun)

totowolff why in front of me though

user1 STFU! Did Toto just make this account to call them out 😭😂

user2 Damn emotional damage times 3x literally

landonorris Daddy, shit meant mommy, fuck no....forget it

y/nofficial do we need to talk? 🤔

320,212 comments

(11/23/23)

Liked by y/nofficial, totowolff, charles_leclerc and 10 million others

maxverstappen1 I can finally start calling you mine, always

y/nofficial I love you too Mr. Vertsappen

Mrs.verstappen damn…gonna have to change my username now

Totowolff hurt her, and I’ll let George do more damage to that side pod

user1 violated

user2 do it do it do it

susiewolff Toto, get off the phone and no you will not

DanielRicciardo photo creds man, don’t pay, and no credit

546,781 comments

(06/10/24)

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, redbullracing, and 450,000 others

maxverstappen1 I’m on my honeymoon, leave me alone 🖕🏼

Charles_leclerc I really hope y/n, approved that first photo man

Y/nofficial it was not 🙂😪

User123 damn, how’d max pull her honestly

User5 mommy, no…mommy, yeah mommy

Totowolff that’s my daughter max 😐

User67 yeah, but she's calling max daddy now

maxverstappen1 🫡😛

Comments disabled

(06/15/24)

Liked by totowolff, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 12 million others

y/nofficial sorry, I think this is a good excuse to not be in the paddock, little verstappen due 03/04/25 🦁

maxverstappen1 and I thought I couldn’t love you more, but I do

User45 congratulations 🎉

Totowolff I’m so proud of you my little bunny

Landonorris max is really a daddy now

maxverstappen1 you already drive a tractor want me to crash it 🤨

Mclaren please don’t 🧎🏼👏🏼

Landonorris no sir 🫡

LewisHamilton future Mercedes driver and my godchild

RedBullracing back off 🧅

Mrs. Hamilton they used a fucking onion emoji 😂😂😂

450,000 comments

(01/16/25)

Liked by y/nofficial, totowolff, susiewolff, Christianhorner, and 15 million others

Maxverstappen1 she’s the true champion, and I couldn’t be happier to have you here my little 🦁 Lucas Troger Christen Verstappen born 03/16/25

Totowolff can I please come visit now?

maxverstappen1 no old man

User89 toto was a daddy now he’s a granddaddy 🥹🥲

Y/nofficial can I please have my cheeseburger and fries? 😭

Maxverstappen1 yes my goddess 😍😍🥹

Lewishamilton simp

maxverstappen1 fuck off and don’t be sending us Mercedes onesies again

Christianhorner congratulations you two, I have loved watching you two grow into amazing adults much love 💕

200,000 comments

taglist: @welcometomyworldwithoutrules@gentlemonsterjennie1@callsignwidow@mycenterfold@clintsupremacy@notsosurehritika@whotfisvale@black-swan-blog27@severenswife@cinderellawithashoe@vita-di-moda@imchiarashelby1@hiphopdancer101universe@ironmaiden1313@1-800-imma-steal-your-bitch@xcinnamongirl@basicallyherondale@that-aesthetic-chic@omgsuperstarg@southerngirlnow@paprikabadger@mehrmonga@mqcherie@bibissparkles@callsignwidow@vixxen-lou@matildrry@mvclff1@octaviareina@christianpulisic10@alexander-hamilhoe@champomiel@daddyslittlevillain

[goodday-goodmorn]

Back on this account: Prefacing this that this work was wrote in like a day and like most of my things- i was too lazy to edit lol. The concept form todays work was injected into my brain by good old @auspicioustidings, check em out- they got some cool concepts and fics. (Particularly Firewatch- chefs kiss to that series), lots of soft, dark, kidnap-y, COD content 👍

Without further ado i present my impulsive thoughts on a page:

——————

“Committed to the Bit.”

words: 4.7k

Summary: You’re at an utterly boring halloween party, about to leave when some scottish man dressed as a solider comes slinking into the bathroom and really goes ham with his whole ‘This place is dangerous, you aren’t supposed to be here- we gotta get you to safety’ act. Weird pick-up line approach but hey it fucking works. He’s just charming enough for you to play along with his bit. Because it is just a bit… right?

This party was kinda dull. Which really was a shame considering how high your expectations were. From what your friend said- it was supposed to be an immersive experience. The hosts were apparently old collage buddies with your friend who were halloween fanatics.

You friend has absolutely hyped them up, talking all about how when they threw parties they got into them and would always play up whatever dynamic they were going for with their costumes. Even to a level of mild public humiliation.

She once recounted the story of how one year, when dressed as a pair of vampires, they full on acted as though they were melting when someone brought a side of garlic breadsticks with the pizza. Fully committed to the bit it seems.

Because of the hosts being so dedicated to their act, of course it wasn’t uncommon for guests to act in a similar manner. Even those who didn’t have a running gag for the night were overall relaxed and had a good time being apart of the fun. It was a non-judgmental zone, filled with pretty decor and open people.

So of course, after hearing all about the welcoming and fucking amazing vibes of these parties- you had agreed to meet up with your friend at one.

Normally, you weren’t really one for parties, especially halloween ones because it was typically full of judgey, horny, strangers who would consider you weird- and you’d have to small talk and the songs almost always sucked because of course they couldn’t play actual halloween songs even if it killed them.

But after many reassurances from your friend, including videos and photos she had graciously provided you- you went to one.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement.

The costumes were amazing- high quality and expensive, hell the place was fucking stunning, all decked out in halloween gear and dark lighting. Even the building itself seemed perfect for this sort of thing- winding corridors, random locked rooms, ominous men in suits. Oh and don’t get you started on the snack table, shit was heavenly even if you were the only one touching it. The aesthetics of the party were great, But…

The vibes were way off. There was no rambunctious fun laughter and people grooving on the dance floor. Everyone seemed oddly reserved. Committed to their bits for sure, but well… there wasn’t much ah, variety to everyone’s act.

They all shared a similar vibe of like- domineering power. Which was definitely pretty fucking hot when it came to some people, (looking at you fancy vanpire lady), but it got boring after a while.

Safe to say your attempts at socializing were pretty shot. And what’s even worse, your friend? Yeah she didn’t even show up.

Tragic truly. You would call her to see if she made it here yet, but your phone was dead- and talking to any of the other party goers was a song and dance you didn’t wanna attempt again.

So here you are, in the bathroom, sitting by one of the sinks and charging your phone.

How lame.

You sigh, standing up to check yourself out in the mirror. At least your costume is fun, it’s a reference that only really you and you friend would get, but still, it made you happy to wear. It was a royal outfit, you looked like nobility, nice and fancy. Perhaps a barron, or maybe a princess, or a king- really it was up for anyone's interpretation. You fix up the head accessory, then fuss with your hair just to have something to do.

Maybe you should just leave, you were getting pretty bored of everything.

And it’s at that moment, as you’re sinking down to the bathroom floor to grab your charger that the most interesting thing of tonight bursts through the door.

You look at him, blinking once then twice. He does the same.

Eye candy.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind. Without an ounce of shame you let your eyes rack over his form, fitted in some sort of military outfit, tactical gear and even a prop gun. He makes it look damn good.

And then you stop admiring the hunk of prime meat in front of you because starring is rude. (Even if he is fucking amazingly charmingly rugged and god damn what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that mohawk of his and just tug-)

“That’s a good fucking costume.”

He pauses, looking at you with something confused and a bit bemused. And like an idiot you just can’t keep your mouth shut and blurt out more shit.

“Did ya have to bust through the door though? I mean like- don’t get me wrong it was cool as shit- really adds to the character here, big, hot, ah… military? guy.”

You wince, you’re making a fool of yourself. Luckily the man doesn't seem to mind.

(Johnny takes one look at you, your bag in a sink, your phone charging in the bathroom outlet, your clearly partly homemade costume that shows way more care than any of the other people in this joint and easily figures out-)

“L.T, Found a civvie.”

He mumbles into a- oh shit he’s got an earpiece and everything. Now that is cool. You tell him as such.

“Okay that is so fucking cool. Dude does that thing actually work? Man. How long did it even take for you to get this whole costume?”

He studies you with an odd look for a moment. You wonder if there’s actually anyone talking to him in that earpiece. Must be with the way he pauses. Slowly, he speaks; gentle.

“Not a costume lass. We ought to get you outta here, it's gonna be a shitshow soon.”

You blink. And then, you smile.

“Rightttt, not a costume. I getcha.”

“Not joking bonnie. This place is dangerous, filled with snakes. How did a wee thing like you even get in here?”

You smile, a bit pleased to banter with the first person who isn't doing the same old same old, ‘i know more than you, ooo im so big and powerful and scary’ act.

“Took a carriage ride and promised my roommate I'd be back by midnight.”

He eyes your royal esc outfit, not cinderella by any means but it still makes him smile slightly. (And boy if that isn't a sight, him looking you up and down and looking at you like that?)

“Cute. Then allow me to be yer escort princess.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom door.

The statement is said with just enough sarcasm to make you bite down a grin. Hes very committed to this whole military operation act. And honestly? You were ready to leave anyway. Not to mention this guy was the only one who’d gotten your interest all night.

You grab your things and stuff them in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder tightly.

“Follow me, and ye gotta be quiet. Cant let anyone see us.”

You are more than willing to go along with his silly bit. And so you give him a clumsy salute, with a good natured smile.

“You got it captain.”

“Sergeant.”

He corrects you with an amused little puff of air. Clearly- hes just as pleased to have someone indulge him as you are to have someone interesting to talk to.

“You got it sergeant.” You repeat back with a graceful little half bow and amused smirk.

He turns back to the door, hands on his gun and before you go out you grab onto his arm.

“Wait!”

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow, eyes sharp, focused: wow hes a really good actor and hes got really pretty fucking eyes-

“Lassie?”

Oh yeah you can't get lost in his eyes just yet.

“Can I have a gun? For safety and all that- totally.”

“Hen… i don't think-”

“please sergeant? I promise I won't break it or anything! I just wanna get more into character ya know? pretty please Sir…?

…

(Johnny is not a good man. And fuck when he hears you call him by his rank, sir, asking so sweetly- your hands clasped in front of you- looking at him with a sheepish grin and pleading eyes. He wants to give you a damn bazooka if it means you keep talking sweet to him. Ghost is in his ear, telling him he better not bloody dare.)

(So of course…)

“You keep that safety on boonie. Hold it like this. If you gotta use it, don't be shooting or you’ll blow yer eye out. You toss the bloody thing in the direction of whatever it is you’re tryna hit- or you hand it to me. Is that clear?”

You nod vehemently, assuring him with little, yep’s and sure’s, and got it-’s. He raises a brow, mostly cause hes not sure if you’re actually taking this seriously. You take it for something else entirely though and then quickly say-

“Yes sir. Understood.”

(...Johnny is both damn disappointed hes on a mission, and greatful as fuck, because the only thing he wants to do is push you up against that wall, sneak his hands down your silly little costume and tease you until you’re a squirming mess. Asking you if you understand how hard hes gonna fuck you and hear your breath hitch as you answer back with a wanton “Yes sir”—)

“Sergeant…?”

You stare at the fellow and his intense gaze, wondering if you took it too far. Hes committed to his bit sure, but you didn't mean to overstep and make him feel like he had to give you a gun. Clearly they were expensive props, detailed and metallic and heavy.

Instead of speaking to you, he speaks to his earpiece, “just a precaution L.T, what if her majesty gets cornered? Little lass don't have a lick of combat training.”

You -far to ready to add to this stupid little bit- chime in,

“Yeah, they only teach you fencing and the waltz where i'm from.”

Johnny grins, “Com'on L.T”

(As much as Ghost hates to admit it- Johnny is right. And so be begrudgingly relents. It seems everyone is amused by how utterly oblivious you are because Gaz spares a laugh and a cheeky comment after Ghost's gruff voice.)

“Soooo… what's the verdict Sergeant? Did your uh… LT? That's lieutenant right-? Does he approve?”

In response, Soap carefully positions a gun in your hand, telling you with an edge to keep your fingers away from the trigger. (Safety is on of course, Johnnys not an idiot all the time.) You nod, holding onto the gun and feeling so cool.

Like that the two of you are off, sneaking around the winding corridors and hiding.

Honestly? This is the most fun you’ve had since you got here. Its all you can do to not bounce on your heels when you follow Soap around.

He's just so into this, that you can't help but be sucked in. Speaking in low tones to his ear peice, making sure you stick close, talking about positions and other military jargon that goes over your head. Oh and he does it all with this charming smile, like the situation is serious yes- but like he's still making sure you’re having fun. Trying to keep you comfortable. The energy is tense but in a good way. Electric even.

You find yourself holding your breath whenever you hide behind a corner, or when he tugs you to him and holds you still- god it's just so thrilling. Maybe because you’ve had a boring night, and cause he's charming and fun in all the right ways- but you’re having a blast.

Even when things seem to get even more tense.

You and Soap are currently nestled away in a little nook, a back corridor, a dead end. Soap curses, speaking into his earpiece. You can hear footsteps, someones coming. And if they see you and Soap- you'll surely be compromised.

(Which means your little game will likely come to an end. Most of the party people here are judgmental, ergo they probably won't appreciate your little roleplay. Its in this moment that you decide- fuck it, you dont want this to end.)

“Sergeant!” You whisper harshly, tugging off your fancy coat and draping it around him, “I’ve got a plan- trust me.”

He looks at you, mildly conflicted, he's about to say something but the footsteps are getting closer and you really need a cover story for why you’re lurking in a dark corner away from the party. You can only think of one reason two people would sneak away at a party.

Sue you for getting too into this silly game of pretend, but adrenaline spikes and next thing you know; you’re kissing him.

Rough and messy, needy. You let out your best wanton muffled moan. His eyes are wide, and for a moment you spiral, realizing what you’ve just done. Sure you were playing pretend and he was committed to the bit but you just kissed him for fucks sake- sexually harsssed him!

Oh god hes gonna hate you and you just ruined all that fun banter and any shot at ever speaking to the only decent person you’ve met all night—

He’s kissing back.

With sudden haste he pulls you close, kissing you back with a ferocity that short circuits your brain for a moment. His knee slots in between your legs, entangling you two, and then there's a soft thud as his back hits the wall.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Your heart races, a slurry of adrenaline, of elation because he was playing along with your silly cover story, of something hot and molten because he was running his hands along your outfit desperately.

Amidst the heat of it all, the grinding of his knee between your legs- you don't even notice the fact that the footsteps stopped. Johnny does though. He breaks the kiss with a purposeful loud noise, when he sees your dazed and confused expression however- he quickly aims for your neck before you can say a word and accidently give away the clever cover story you thought of.

You gasp, the noise does wonders. He can hear whoevers about to round the corner shifting about, obviously realizing what's going on and debating if they should check to be sure or spare their eyes of the sight.

So of course, Johnny helps them decide by laying it on thick.

“Fuck atta girl hen, wanna hear you fall apart f’ me.”

He presses you against his knee, nibbling at your skin to make your breath stutter. Thankfully, you catch his words and seem to get at least to some level what he's doing.

So of course, because god damn it- you’re in the thick of this silly military operation act now- you’ve gotta commit. You moan out the worst thing you can think of to make someone go away. Which is of course—

“Daddy!”

(Johnny can hear Gaz fucking roaring with laughter over coms. It takes everything in himself not to laugh then and there. Luckily, having a pretty little thing pressed against his knee and trembling provides a good distraction. Still, he can't repress the grin.)

“Yeah? Need something kitten?” He captures your lips again, a quick kiss this time, just to leave you breathless for your next remark.

“Y-Your c-” Oh my fucking god you dont know if you’re struggling to speak because you’re trying your damndest not to laugh, or because you are painfully terribly aroused at due to his kisses and husky voice. Thank god he intervenes.

“Whats that kitty? Yer gonna have to speak up. Lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.”

He guides you across his knee, you tangle your hand in his hair, tugging that stupid mohawk close to kiss him again.

When you quickly pull away, you rush out the words, failing to hide the look of pure hysterical amusement on your face- luckily the rush of words is mistaken for neediness and not because you are seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Your cock-”

He captured your laughter in another kiss, groaning to hide the sound of your stifled snickers.

Finally, after what seems like ages and yet too little time- he hears Ghost in his ear giving him the all clear. Not without clear amusement.

Johny backs off, panting heavily and listening. He hears nothing but empty air. Quietly he whispers,

“They’re gone.”

You pant as well, trying your best to keep your hysterical little giggles quiet. Johnny is right there with you, like fucking schoolgirls- the two of you giggle for a moment.

Ah but you should probably apologize.

“H-Hey im sorry by the way- for kissing you out of the blue like that, i didn't know if you’d be comfortable with it but uh- i kinda got invested in the whole-”

You wave a hand about as he backs off you, pulling his knee away from your heat between your legs.

“-‘Don't get caught’, thing. Sorry if i um- took it too far and make you uncomfortable…”

(Johnny looks down at you, pretty little oblivious thing, looking all sheepish and nervous as if there wasn’t the high potential you just saved both his and your asses with your quick thinking.)

“All good lassie. Good quick thinking.”

(As much as he’d love to tease you more about it- or even tell you just how much he enjoyed kissing you until you were breathless- he’s still on a mission, and you need to keep moving.)

(So for now, he settles for a hair ruffle and a wink. You smile all the same.)

The pair of you continue, and you are starting to wonder where you’re going. This ain’t the way you came in- though, you suppose coming in via the main entrance would defeat the point of the game. Which was of course: to sneak you out undetected. Walking through the hall of party-goers probably wouldn’t be the best call.

Still, it's odd when you find yourself stopping at a room. It appears to be locked, a passcode and everything. This doesn’t seem to be an issue though.

(“Intel says they left the hard drive here. Code is 269344041.” Johnny listens to Ghosts voice, inputting the code easily. He ignores the confused look you end him in favor of mumbling-)

“a’m in.”

You blink as he talks to his earpiece. Carefully and quietly as you enter the room, you ask,

“Um… sergeant? What are we doing in here?”

“Looking for a package hen.”

(“Should be in a small red box.” Ghost relays.)

“-Little red box. Help me look?”

You nod like the helpful little thing you are and begin to search the room. It’s a storage unit of sorts. Bunch of random shit, you even spot a cool ass box of skeleton bones. That you show to your newfound companion.

He grimaces and gently sets the box down away from your hands.

“Let’s not touch anything else alright lassie?”

It’s framed as a question but really it’s an order. You just shrug, and then remember your line was supposed to be, ‘yes sir.’

“Yes sir.”

The search doesn’t take long after that, a few minutes max before you spot a little red box high up on a shelf. All the things around it are collecting dust, but the dull red colored cardboard seems to be free of it. Placed there recently it seems.

Maybe this whole immersive thing was planned out, and maybe it was pure luck you got roped into it. Everything was awfully elaborate after all. With him knowing the code and stuff.

“Sergeant i think i found it.”

He’s on you in and instant,

“Where?”

You point up the shelf. “That it?”

He carefully grabs it, opens it up and shuts it before you can get a good look. Looked kinda like a flash drive? A flash drive inside a plastic baggie.

“That’s what we’re looking for alright. Good work lassie. Ye might as well be a recruit at this point.”

He’s joking it seems, so you smile back in turn.

“Lived a bit too cushiony of a life for military work i’m afraid.” You gesture once more to your royal outfit. “But i’ll consider the offer sergeant.”

He takes you by the arm, tucking the box into his vest and leading you to the door.

“Glad to hear it princess.”

After that, it’s more sneaking about, more little bits of banter whenever you can, and listening to him speak into his earpiece. It’s dreadfully fun, the most fun you’ve had all night and honestly? At any party ever.

Finally- Finally, you seem to make your goal as you feel open air on your skin. That took forever to get out, with how massive the place was, but by god it was fun sneaking around like a super spy with…

Oh. You come to the sudden realization that you don’t actually know his name. That and- you never gave him your name either.

Well, this is where you leave so…

“Hey i just realized i never got your name.”

He turns to you for a brief moment, his hands on your arm now, tugging you along away from the building so that the bouncers at the front won’t see you. The two of you stop a little ways away.

“Soap. Or Johnny if you’d prefer.”

He says it so simply, with such an easy smile.

“And you princess?”

You say your own back, and it sounds so nice on his tongue. So right.

“Um- if you wouldn’t mind-“ You’re fishing in your bag now for your barely charged phone, wanting to get his number because he seems like a stand up dude and-

Soap touches his earpiece, “Package and civilians secure L.T. Good to go.” He says it quiet enough you don’t hear it, too busy looking for your phone.

(“Roger. Gaz move in.”)

“-could i maybe get your number? After i find my phone, of course. it’s just uh, well i had a lot of fun. Truth be told the night was pretty shit before you found me so if it’s okay with y-“

Your eyes widen when you see behind Soap, several Military troops storming the place, all of them holding what look to be- very real guns.

“What the fu-?”

You start, dropping your phone in a shock and completely shattering the poor device against the pavement.

Johnny can’t seem to bite down his grin.

Slowly, and yet all too fast, everything clicks as soon as you hear gunshots.

At a snails pace your head turns towards Johnny. Soap. The sergeant. The real sergeant.

“I did tell ya it wasn’t a costume hen.”

You were such a fucking idiot.

——————

Awkwardly you sit in your chair, taken in for interrogation. Less that and more for protocol considering everyone agreed you didn’t know jack shit.

Apparently, you went to the wrong party and somehow ended up at a terrorist gathering, which would explain the weird vibes of all the guests. And the super big and confusing building. And the many locked doors. And the—

The more you thought about it, the more stupid you felt so at some point in the hours of being on this stupid military base, you stopped.

To your utter horror and humiliation: Soap was a real sergeant. On a real mission. And he gave you a real ass fucking gun. And you had kissed him and oh god he had his knee between your fucking legs- you called him daddy.

Physically unable to handle the shame and embarrassment, you make a noise similar to that of a dying cat and bury your face in your hands.

The person ‘interrogating’ you, (a nice man that everyone called Gaz), just laughed. At the very least your misery was amusing.

“I am- so, so so fucking sorry, oh my god i’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it love. It helped to keep you calm. Better than dealing with panicking eh?”

You nodded because he made sense. It didn’t mean you were happy about it- but it did make sense. Soap tried to tell you after all. Honestly it was probably for the best you thought it was all a joke. Who knows what you would have done if you knew it was for real, probably panicked and gotten both yourself and him killed.

Gaz pats your head, an amused but sympathetic smile on his face.

(God fucking damn it, were all sergeants just naturally this fucking charming??? …You don’t have a thing for military guys do you?)

When the captain of this whole thing walks in, John Price; with a smile like that of a damn koala bear and air of authority- you decide that, yeah. Maybe you do have a thing for military types.

Go figure.

“You're free to go love.”

You sigh with relief, mostly because you don’t physically think you can handle anymore embarrassment. Your face is starting to hurt from all the cringing you’ve been doing. How are you ever gonna live this down?

“Afraid your phones broken though. Do you know the way home?”

No. Obviously not. You were taken here via military truck with the other soldiers. Frankly you could be in a different country right now and you wouldn’t know because you passed out at some point from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

(Price of course, knows this. He just wants to see you squirm a little longer. Is it wrong? Yeah. But he’ll be damned if you aren’t the most fun thing to mess with.)

“Um no- sir.” You tack on the title quickly, unsure exactly what to call him.

“Alright. I’ll have one of my men escort you home.”

As long as it’s anyone but Johnny you should be able to survive a car ri-

“Soap.”

Fuck.

“Take my car and escort the little lady back home.”

…You just had to think it, didn't you?

(Price knows he’s cruel for messing with you. Mean and terrible really. But the face you make when he calls Soap into the room? Where you look like you go through every stage of grief before landing on depression in .5 seconds?)

(Priceless.)

——————

The car ride is just as excruciating as you thought it would be. Even worse- Soaps a good guy. Charming and fun, sweet even. He jokes and teases you but tries his damnest to make the car ride as comfortable as possible.

Hell he even offers to stop someplace and buy you something for the road. And offer you not let would refuse; but you were at the base for hours, and it’s like 2 AM and you are exhausted and hungry and embarrassed.

So the two of you get some takeout, and eat in Prices car. You would be worried about eating in the car, but Soap makes you comfortable, assuring you the captain would probably be more upset if he let you go home on an empty stomach.

The rest of the drive is cozy after that. He pulls laughter out of you, and embarrassed groans but it’s all in good fun.

By the time you get home, you’re most definitely a little unsteady on your feet just due to how tired you are. He helps you out of the car, and even walks you to your door.

Before he leaves, you awkwardly debate giving him your number. Just so you could buy him drinks or something later down the line to make up for your utter stupidity today- but then you remember your totaled phone.

Damn.

And then, a god seemingly hears your prays because he’s slipping you a sheet of paper.

Drowsily you blink down at it to find a king number string. A phone number.

When you snap your eyes back up to him, he’s grinning.

“You wanted it right lass? Give me a call sometime.”

And then, he’s winking and walking away. Just like that.

…huh. Maybe you should go to parties more often.

[obsessedfics]

Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 2

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 1 is already up and is linked here. Highly recommend reading it first before this one so you don't get confused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating:Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

October: Halloween, Shibuya 

I know it’s Halloween, but does there have to be so many people outside?!

You began pushing your way through the crowds of people, ignoring the press of anxiety in your chest. All you needed to do was make it to the train station so you could go home, but it seemed as you got closer to the Shibuya Hikarie Building the throng of bodies got tighter. 

Ugh, maybe I should just find a hotel for the night. 

With a huff of air passing your lips, you make to turn around, but you hear something strange through your headphones.

Doubting yourself, you pull out one bud. 

“ Bring Satoru Gojo. ” 

Satoru… Gojo?  

People chanted these words over and over again, stretching down to the train tracks.

What the fuck is going on? 

Swallowing your anxiety, you begin pushing your way inside the building. The clusters of bodies became thicker. Their skin brushed yours as you continued to the center. You ignored the foreign touch, pushing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind.

Is it who I think it is? Or am I just being delusional?

Once inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

There he was, hands in his pockets, hovering right in the middle of the building, staring straight down to the train tracks. 

“I can fly!”

Your eyes widened. Running to the edge while elbowing through sweaty bodies. You needed to be closer; to confirm what you are seeing. 

Is it him? Am I hallucinating right now? 

As soon as you’re at the edge, you call out his name, but the crowd drowns out your voice. You shout as loud as you can, but you might as well be whispering. The crowd's anxious chatter washes out your voice, rendering your desperate shouts useless.

Then he descends to the basement, a murderous aura following in his wake. 

An article from 2006 pops into your head.

Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo Clan, pinnacle of the Jujutsu world.

Without a second thought, you break out in a sprint to the stairs. People stare at you in confusion, but you ignore them, shoving your way through their bodies. His words play in your mind, puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” “…my role is incredibly isolating.” 

Something is wrong. 

You run, taking two steps at a time, hand ghosting over the railing for support. You knew you were useless, and if he was in any trouble you wouldn’t be able to do anything. But you also couldn’t do nothing . Not when he was right in front of you, not when you spent weeks thinking about him. 

He lingered on your heart like a tattoo – permanent and painfully hard to get rid of. If you loved him, you didn’t know. But you do know your soul yearns to be with him.

Please be safe. I don’t give a shit how strong you are, don’t be stupid. 

Bursting through the doors of the basement floor, you’re met with a sea of bodies. You couldn’t see anything other than people dressed in Halloween costumes for miles. 

Cursing inwardly, you push past them, elbows out to your sides. Their bodies brush your skin, and you ignore your itching flesh. The only thing on your mind was getting to him, was seeing him. 

Sweat coated you from head to toe, you could hear a commotion up ahead, but you were still too far away. 

Your heart raced against your chest so hard, you were afraid it was going to burst. Faint screams filled your ears, but you ignored them. It was like you were possessed, the burn in your legs didn’t matter, the thin air in your lungs didn’t bother you, you just wanted him. 

People started pushing their way into the tracks as the screams became clearer and clearer. Then suddenly, they stopped.

Dead silence rang out. 

Huh? 

Bodies stop moving in an instant, but you don’t. You see Satoru move at a blinding speed. Blood splatters all around you, coating your skin in its warm, sticky substance. You don’t even have time to process anything. The world seems to be fast-forwarded, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.

Then the area clears. 

He stops, breath heavy with blood on his cheek as he takes in the carnage along with a small box in front of him.

“Satoru–” 

“Gate open,”

The cube box opens, revealing its fleshy body with an eye that stares right at Satoru. He makes to move away but a man with long black hair and a stitched scar across his head steps into view, calling out warmly to him. 

You watch as Satoru freezes, disbelief in his wide blue eyes. 

He asks the theatrically dressed man who he is, anger and confusion dancing in his tone.

The moment the answer leaves the black-haired male's mouth, all air evaporates. The eye sticks to Satoru’s body, rendering him helpless.

Suguru Geto?  

Satoru’s words flash in your mind. 

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened…” “No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe…” “He’s dead. It’s been a year,”

There’s no way. This is fucked. I need to do something, maybe a distraction–

Satoru’s eyes flash to you, only meeting yours for a second, but he makes it count by mouthing:

RUN.

You stagger back a step, foot catching on the rail as Satoru starts shouting at the other male – his dead best friend, asking who he is. 

Turning around, you move your leadened legs, each step feeling as if you were pulling a freight train. 

“My six eyes tell me… That you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The anger and pain in his voice was so guttural, that it rattled your soul.

What the fuck is going on?! 

You cry silently, forcing your body to run away, even though everything in you told you to turn around. You knew you’d die if you did, so you kept moving through the tears. 

Dead deformed bodies were littered all around you with blood staining the tracks red. You had to force your eyes to the sky, afraid you’d vomit. 

He’s only subdued, sealed. Not dead. Not dead. 

Despite yourself, you return your eyes to the floor to search the dead bodies' faces, fearful that one of them will be his. 

You were panting when you reached the stairs, but you continued pressing on, only repeating one thing to yourself; 

Not dead. 

—

Shibuya was pandemonium. 

People, who you assumed were curse users, are fighting everywhere. You couldn’t see what exactly they were fighting, but you could feel it. The wrongness. 

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to do. Anxiety and bile crawled up your throat, as your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your legs were numb and your heart was beating erratically. 

I need to get out of here.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you move, aiming for downtown, away from the central fighting point. But when the edge becomes clearer, you see that people are frantically pressing against an invisible wall. 

A barrier of some sort–

“NANAMIIIII!”

This name is being shouted from the top of a tall building seemingly in the middle of the sector. 

Whoever is yelling has some lungs on them… I can’t get distracted, I have to move. 

Panic began bubbling up in your chest you ran as fast as you could, ducking into a small department store, immediately pulling down the metal guard gate and locking it. 

You pressed your back to the glass doors, head tilted to the ceiling, breaths heavy and uneven. 

Am I going to die here? 

You look down at your body. 

Blood covered you, staining your khakis and shirt. It clung to your skin and matted your hair. The feeling is disgustingly sticky and the smell of iron assaults your senses, nearly making you gag. 

Moving away from the doors, you explore the department store while your body shakes. You needed to move, otherwise countless strangers' dead faces would flash in your mind, making your only thought about their mixed blood covering you. 

It seemed as if you were the only person in the building, so you located the seat behind the front desk and sat down.

So many people died, and Satoru… He’s in a box. 

You felt so incredibly numb. 

You came to Shibuya to buy a few things from your favorite thrift store, but then this happened. Nothing made sense and you couldn’t wrap your head around why so many people passed out and you didn’t. 

Leaning back in your chair, you loosed a shuddering breath. 

“What the fuck.”

Then the world shook.

—

Megumi was on duty for the evacuation team after the Shibuya Incident. Gojo was sentenced to death and so was Principal Yaga, along with the reinstatement of Yuji’s execution. 

This is troublesome. 

He entered a department store on the edge of town, fully expecting no one to be present due to having to break the locked gate. 

“Hello, is anyone here?” He calls out, voice tired and raw from the night prior. His eyes disinterestedly scan the aisles, until something moves.

A woman, covered in dried blood from head to toe, steps out behind an aisle, hammer poised to attack him. Immediately he puts up his hands, summoning his cursed technique for protection. 

“I am not here to hurt you, just here to help you out of the disaster area,” Megumi spoke slowly, but the woman only tightened her hands around the handle of the weapon. 

“The name Satoru Gojo, what does it mean to you?” Her voice, soft and calm, asks him. There was no edge to it, despite the murderous intent of her body language.

“He’s my teacher.” 

What is wrong with this lady? Is she asking because she was forced to ask for him last night? But all that blood… There’s no way she was at the tracks, she wouldn’t be here if she were. 

The woman nodded once, then set down the hammer, approaching him with caution. 

“I am… I know him, in a way.” 

Oh no, not another one. 

“Last night, I followed him down to the basement. I am a normal person, so if he was fighting curses, I don’t know. But I saw him get put in this ancient box covered with eyes. The person who did it is Suguru Geto, but… I think someone is inhabiting his body. That’s all I know, I hope it helps.” 

The woman spoke clearly without any fear, but Megumi only became more confused. 

“There’s no way you would be here though. We’re still removing the unconscious bodies of civilians from the station. Why were you not affected?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders. 

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. The rest of Japan, is it safe?” 

The way she spoke caught him off guard. So matter-of-fact and clear, but her body shook. Clearly, she was disturbed but trying not to show it. 

She’s not a sorcerer, but she knows about Gojo’s significance. Were they close? Did he tell her everything? 

Megumi tried to remember if his teacher mentioned any non-sorcerer woman he was interested in, but nothing came to mind.

“For now, but the situation is unstable. There’s no telling what’s going to happen with that guy gone. We’re going to do everything we can to save him, but I am not sure if it’s possible.” He spoke honestly and the woman nodded, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down on it. 

“This is my number. I’ll do my independent research. In a week, call me and we’ll check bases.”

With that, she gave him a warm smile and left. 

Who is she? 

November:19 Days After the Incident  

You were sitting on your couch, petting Noir anxiously when you got the call. 

Did it work?

Sliding the green answer button, you shakily pressed the device to your ear. 

“Miss L/N? This is Yuji Itadori. He’s free.” 

Thank god.  

“Thank you.”

The weight on your shoulders lifted and the anxiousness died. 

Not dead.

“I’ll let him know you helped us.” 

“Don’t worry about it, he’s out. That’s all that matters. Be safe.”

Hanging up the phone, you press your nose into Noir’s fur. Her soft warmth seeped into your chest as her purs tickled your skin, relaxing you. 

You cry softly, hugging her body close to yours. Knowing that this changed nothing, he still had so many painful troubles. But he is free, he is alive , and that’s all that matters to you. 

Regardless of what your place in his world is. 

—

“You said a civilian helped you guys expedite my release?”  

Is she safe? Was I distracting enough for them not to notice her presence? 

“Yes. Fushiguro found her and she relayed what she saw on the tracks during your fight.” Yuji explained brightly, even though his friend was now Sukuna’s vessel. 

There’s no way anyone saw what happened. No one except…

He shot out of his seat, surprising Yuji.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s Miss L/N? She said she knows you.” 

Satoru scrunched his brows. 

She never told me her last name. 

“Her first name, what is it?” 

Yuji looked at him as if he lost it but he didn’t care. 

“Y/n, I think?” 

He was already moving. 

“Eh? Where are you going?!” 

“I’ll be back!”

—

Rain fell heavily from the gray sky, but not a drop touched him.

She’s dead. You killed her, just like you did to Suguru. Your strength is a curse – not a gift. You’re cursed to be alone.

I am not my past. It does not define me. 

Running as fast as he could, he ignored the thoughts invading his mind, pushing them away with her shared mantra. Images of her body, bloodied and disfigured threatened his vision, but he blinked it away; refusing to let his fear control him. 

Soon he reached the familiar home that is tucked away from the noise of the city – a sanctuary. He hesitated, the familiar feeling of dread washing over him, making his legs leadened. 

Confirm her safety then leave. 

Taking a deep breath in, he forced himself to move, mentally putting in the effort to place one foot in front of the other, until he reached the door.

Satoru raised a shaky hand and knocked, but there was no answer. 

Fear crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe. 

Please.

Swallowing his dry saliva, he twisted the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked. 

He closed his eyes and held his breath. If she wasn’t here, he would search all of Japan until he found her. 

He had until December… 

Stepping inside the house, the familiar scent of her flooded his senses, making his legs feel hollow. 

Be here, be safe . 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. 

There she was as if nothing happened. 

She had fallen asleep on the couch, the soft glow of golden lights kissing her skin as Noir curled against her body. They looked peaceful enough to make him sigh in relief. 

However, when he stepped closer, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks.

That peaceful image shattered. 

Satoru moved closer, not trusting his eyes to tell him the truth. 

Noir woke first, big blue eyes recognizing him as she moved out of her owner's arms, careful to not wake her. The feline came up to him, nudging his shaking legs as if telling him to go to her. 

Why are you crying?

Holding his breath, he approached her sleeping figure. Anxiety swirled in his chest as he tried to make sense of his feelings. 

Should I turn around now? You’d be happier without me, right? 

Noir nudged him again, pulling him from his thoughts.

Biting his inner cheek, he crouched down so he was now eye level with her body. For a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight in front of him. 

Soft even breaths kissed his cheeks and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. It deafened his thoughts, replacing them with overwhelming relief. 

She’s alive. This isn’t a dream.

“Y/n,” he called and she stirred. 

Satoru watched as she blinked away her sleep, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, confusion on her face until finally she looked his way.

Her lovely eyes met his, soft and kind – the eyes that made him feel seen . 

“Satoru?” she breathed, taking his face in her hands, eyes searching his as if confirming he was real. 

You’re alive. They seemed to whisper, relief swimming in her irises. 

He nodded, wrapping his hands around her wrists, and leaning into her warmth. His blood sang from the contact, tension ebbing out of his body. 

Her presence alone was enough to calm his soul. 

“You followed me, even though you knew it was dangerous.” 

He wasn’t sure if was breathing. His eyes scanned every inch of her body, checking for injury, any sign of pain, thankfully finding nothing. But it didn’t quell the anxiety in his chest. The uneasiness still pressed at his throat, stealing his breath, making it hard for him to think let alone speak.

His only worry when he was in the damned box was that she was alive. That she wasn’t split apart into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. Ash consumed by Sukuna's fire, or buried under the rubble, or worse…  

The woman smiled sadly as if she could read his every thought. Sitting up so she could fully face him, she gently rubbed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks – an attempt to soothe him. He let himself fall to his knees, strength leaving his body. Her hair softly fell in a curtain around them as lightly calloused fingers played with the tips of his ears anxiously. 

Running his thumbs along the soft skin of her wrists, he took in her features. The serene allure was still there, but it was now mixed with something else – and it was far more beautiful. It’s something that existed only when she looked at him. 

“How could I not when you were all I could think about?” her answer finally came, cutting through the silence.

She traced his face in wonder and he shuddered under her touch.

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, fingers digging into the flesh of her wrists.

He’s seen people he’s cared about die. He killed his only best friend with his bare hands. However, it was different with her. All those people knew that they could die with every mission. But this woman, who had eyes that whispered soft serenity, and a smile that made his heart melt, if she died – he didn’t know if he could come back from it. 

“I know.” her words, a broken croak, pulled at his deep-rooted fear. 

He saw his reflection in her eyes. He looked like a desperate man praying to his God; wonder, awe, and disbelief tracing his features. 

“I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.” 

Satoru hated those words. Admitting that he was helpless, noticing her presence too late to save her from the sight of countless dead bodies. He let himself get consumed by his emotions, by the thrill of a good fight, to the point it rendered him useless. 

I’m useless. She could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault. It would have happened all over aga–

With fingers sinking into his skin, she forced him to meet her glass eyes.

“But you did, Satoru. I got away. I am alive because of you.” 

What? 

“While you were powerless, you saved me.” 

His eyes widened as her tears flowed down her cheeks onto his. Wet rain kissing his flesh, just like when they met. 

“I… Saved you? I don’t understand, I only told you to run.” 

She shook her head, taking his hand and placing it over her beating heart. Her warmth, raw and real beneath his fingertips, chased away his fear. With each beat of the muscle grounding him to reality, to her. 

Alive, breathing, real.

“I was frozen. If you hadn’t told me to run, I would’ve rushed to your side out of desperation. You saved me.” 

Her fingers tangled into his hair. The pads of her fingertips lovingly pressed into his scalp, easing his anxiety. 

“You. Saved. Me.” 

“When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for.”

I saved her?

The truth of her words clanged in his chest, stitching an old wound on his heart, stealing his breath away. 

Blinking, he met her eyes fully.

Run away. His mind whispered.

Let go of your fear. His heart screamed.

And like a man possessed, he grabbed her face, closing the gap between their bodies.

Desperately, he pressed his lips to hers. Salty tears coated his tongue and her hands fisted into his hair. The soft, warm press of her lips against his drove him mad, making him grab her body, pulling her closer to him. She fell to his lap, legs lightly wrapping around his waist as he deepened the kiss. He allowed his fingers to tangle in the strands of her silken hair, tongue pushing past her lips, drowning in everything that is her . 

Soft rose and sandalwood flooded his nose, the taste of bitter-sweet coffee caressed his mouth, muffled moans teased his ears, as her warmth, tranquil and serene, eased his body. Her tears continued to coat their flesh, and he was sure he was crying, too. 

For the first time in years, his heart felt light. At this moment, in her arms, he is just Satoru Gojo, nothing else.

It was then, it hit him. 

Pulling away from her, he breathed heavily. Saliva coated her swollen lips as she stared into him with eyes hazy and half-lidded. Soft, uneven breaths heated his skin as he ran his thumbs along the flesh of her cheeks. 

“I love you,” his voice came out as a quivering whisper. Because he knew this changed nothing between them. 

Foreign tears fell from his eyes, pooling at his chin. Y/n only smiled softly, thumbs lovingly wiping away his tears as he did the same to hers. 

“How long do we have?” 

Sweet lips kissed away his pain, cracking his heart.

“The end of December,” 

He traced her features, warm rain coating his skin as he began committing every detail of her to memory. 

A small whimper left her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks. 

Allowing that last iron barrier around his heart to crumble, he buried his face into her neck, arms enclosing her torso, hugging her like a child. He cried into her, clinging onto her small body desperately as years of bottled-up emotions began washing over him. 

After Suguru, he never let anyone in, convinced that his strength would always push people away. That he would always be envied, seen as the strongest, never as himself. He drew a line without even knowing it. There was him, and there was everyone else. The touch of others had become so foreign to him, that he forgot what it was like to be embraced – to be loved without expectations. 

Here he was, in the arms of a woman who saw the ugliness of his world, the truth of his power, and still looked at him with the same amount of kindness that she did the first day they met. She didn’t falter or become enamored with him. Instead, she just saw him and accepted it without hesitation. 

She disregarded her well-being and did everything in her power to help him. The woman, who couldn’t stand the touch of others, pushed her way through hundreds of people for a chance to save him. It wasn’t to gain anything from him, it was purely to ensure he was alive, so her restless soul could be calmed. She didn’t broadcast her efforts, instead, she cried, silently and alone, relieved by the sole fact he was breathing. 

That’s all she wanted from him; she wanted him to live . 

“Thank you,” he croaked, words incoherent and muffled against her soft flesh. 

One hand rubbed his back, as her other stroked his hair. She pressed light kisses to his temple, whispering comforting safety. He wasn’t breathing, his breaths came out in heaves as his chest felt like it was caving in. He became putty in her hands, molding his body to her, needing all barriers between them to cease to exist. 

Overwhelming complex emotions continued rushing through him; relief, regret, jubilance, despondence, hope, fear, love…

He allowed these emotions to spill out of him, knowing that he was safe. He knew that with her, it was okay to be human. 

To be normal . 

—

Satoru’s body, for all its power, trembles beneath your fingertips. He’s on his knees, silently crying into your arms as you soothe his mind. 

“It’s okay.” 

Soft whispers against his skin as your lips pepper his temple. 

Your tears, though feeling like an endless well, slowly stop as his scent comforts you. Fresh summer rain, bright and soothing, coaxes your soul; calming your heart. 

I love you. 

His broken confession swirled in your mind, making your heart sing in both joy and despair. You wanted to return his feelings, but they got stuck in your throat, refusing to spill from your lips. 

Taking his face in your hands, you met his beautiful eyes. Like the clearest sapphires, they peered at you, almost sparkling as his tears coated his long eyelashes. 

Ever-so-gently, you wipe away his pain. He smiled sadly at you, turning his cheek to kiss your palm. 

“I need you to listen to me,” you whisper and he nods, hands finding your waist, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your shirt. 

Closing your eyes, you let yourself breathe, focusing solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers and the feeling of his blush-kissed cheeks in your palms. 

Taking a deep breath in, you open your eyes, finding your resolve. 

“I am not delusional enough to think that I could ever live comfortably in your world. I am also not clueless. I know whatever is going on, you play an important enough role in it that they tried to take you out of the fight.” 

His eyes searched yours as you tried to formulate a sentence under his raw, naked gaze. 

“But?”

It’s really unfair how beautiful you are. 

Inhaling sharply you continue.

“But, I would also be stupid to let you go. I don’t care if it’s selfish, and whatever time I am granted to be with you, so be it…”  

Pausing, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat – reminding yourself that he is alive. That this is real. 

You’re alive. I won’t let you walk away a second time. 

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it. And you can try to hide behind the strong nonchalant exterior, but I see right through it. I see you, Satoru. I accept you, invisible scars and all. Let’s heal our hearts together.”

Satoru smiled. A real smile. One that is unpracticed, and it is just for you. 

“I could get hurt, you know that don’t you?” some confidence returned to his wavering voice as his hands slowly traveled up your waist, distracting you from his words. 

“Of course. But if I can handle watching you get put into a fleshy eyeball box by the source of your trauma, I can handle you getting hurt.” 

Scoffing lightly, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his face, fully taking in his lovely features. 

“What if I lose my ability to walk?” he asks sweetly, nuzzling his nose against yours as his hands travel to your bare arms. They ghost over your skin, causing goosebumps to follow in his wake. 

“Apparently, you can fly. I suppose if you’re too lazy I can push you around in a wheelchair.” 

You run your hands along the length of his chest to his shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath the fitted black t-shirt. 

“Hmm, and what if my handsome face gets ruined?” the man mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

You were wearing a shirt, but the contact made you jump. You felt him chuckle against you as his hands found your back, fingers dancing up your spine. 

“Well, I recall you telling me that you got stabbed square in that pretty face of yours. As it turns out, you’re still very handsome. So while I think the likelihood of someone harming you to the point you are forever maimed is low, I will still love you regardless.” 

Running your hands down the length of his arms, you watched as your words settled over him. Then realization sparkled in his eyes as he searched your face for answers, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he just heard. 

“Sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? I was a bit distracted.” 

Familiar playfulness kissed his tone as his hands cupped your neck, forcing you to hold his stare. 

“Which part? The one where I said I think someone scarring you is not very likely?” batting your eyelashes innocently, you smile. 

“No no, the good part. Where you said you’re in love with me.” 

One hand came to caress your cheek. Long fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, tickling your scalp as your pores drank in his warmth. 

“Hm, did I say that? I don’t think that’s what I said.” making a show of biting your bottom lip, you looked elsewhere, pretending to think. 

Satoru’s thumb tugged your bottom lip from your teeth, causing you to quickly snap your eyes to his. His lips are pursed into a soft pout as he looks at you expectantly. 

“Just once, let me hear you say it.” his words are a soft plea as his fingers dug further into your skin.

Not fair.

Smiling, you bring your knees to the carpet, raising your body so you can take his face in your hands. You feel him shudder under your touch as his eyes never leave yours, desperation consuming his features. 

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.” 

With those words, the last dark wisp of fear that clutched your heart disappeared in his light.

His lips met yours, hard and fast, all desperation pressing into your body. Your surprised gasp gets swallowed by him as his tongue reclaimed your mouth, filling you with the taste of him; sweet with the undertone of green tea. 

His tongue danced with yours, swirling and teasing, relaxing you further into the intoxicating taunt of his muscle. Warm, calloused hands pressed into your cheeks, angling your head so he could further capture your lips. His kiss is passionate and smooth, making your stomach flutter with butterflies as anticipation travels down your spine. 

Satoru pulls your tongue deeper into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You gasp lightly, taking his upper lip between your teeth, slowly running them down the plump skin. He lets out a heavy sigh, and you take the opportunity to return his gift, sucking diligently on his swollen muscle.

Feeling him smile into the kiss, he runs his hands down your arms, to your waist, making you shiver. Fire slowly starts to coat your veins, turning the kiss hungrier – there was a need that wasn’t there previously. 

The tips of his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your back. The light touch made you whimper, body tingling where he made contact with your flesh.

Losing yourself in him, you take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting playfully as you run your hands over his muscled chest. The feeling of him, perfectly soft and firm, beneath your fingers felt heavenly. Satoru let a satisfied groan escape his lips, which you hungrily swallowed, kissing him harder. 

Desire replaced innocence as you sank your hips, pleased to find his hardened length brushing your growing need. Satoru sharply bit your lower lip, a shaky breath escaping him as you let your full weight settle on him, enjoying the slightest bit of release it gave you. 

Pulling away from the lull of his lips, you meet his heated stare. You both were breathing heavily and Satoru looked too good. 

His eyes, though normally bright and alive with brilliant blue, were nearly black due to his dilated pupils. They gazed at you, hazy and half-lidded as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his deeply flushed cheeks. His lips are red and swollen, glistening with your mixed saliva. 

The sight alone made your core throb, sending a delicious chill throughout your body. 

Satoru removed his hand from your waist to grip your face, squeezing lightly as his thumb traced your lower lip. The way he was looking at you made your knees weak. No man had ever looked at you this way. Not only was it blatant desire, but there was a predatory feel to it, with the undertone of unwavering need . 

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, voice low and gravelly. The words traveled straight to the apex of your thighs as he pressed his thumb harder against your swollen lip. 

“Who said I want you to stop?” 

Holding his stare, you take that thumb between your lips, pressing your teeth down on the pad, swirling your tongue on the bit of flesh. Satoru inhales sharply as the hand holding your waist tightens – a clear attempt to control himself.

You see your reflection in his eyes, the same primal desire looks back at you. 

“Are you sure?” though he asks, his hand is already moving to the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to confirm what he already knows. 

“You getting cold feet?” you tease, dipping your hand between your bodies, ghosting your fingers over his abdomen. 

You were itching to touch him, to taste him, but you were also going to have fun. 

He smirks, slipping his fingers under your shirt, and swirling a gentle finger around your navel. The feeling makes your muscles jerk as fire trails where he touches you. You refuse to let any of that show, only returning his smirk, dragging a nail over his muscled stomach, and taking his tiny little black shirt with you. 

“With you,” he pauses, voice a hushed whisper while he splays his palm flat on your stomach, fingertips just barely pressing under the lining of your bra. 

“I would never. Besides ,” dragging out the last word dangerously slow, he pushes his length up into you, placing the hand that held your face on the back of your thigh, making you moan. The quick relief jolts through you, but disappears quickly, leaving you wanting more.

Bringing his lips so close to your ear that his hot breath tickles your skin, he whispers,

“ You’re the one who’s trembling. ”

Cocky bastard. 

Smiling, you slowly run your lips over the expanse of his neck, lightly licking it with the very tip of your tongue. You feel him shudder beneath you as he breathes heavily in your ear. Licking the shell of his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth as you wrap your hand around the hem of his shirt. 

“Hm, I must be cold. Why don’t you warm me up ?” 

Giving your ear an appreciative nip, Satoru sighs satisfactorily. The deep sound traveled south, making you place your lips to his neck to hide your noise. 

“ Gladly .” 

He began pressing slow, hot, wet kisses to the supple flesh of your neck. He trailed his way down to your collarbone as his hands, re-finding the hem of your shirt, tugged at the fabric playfully. The tips of his soft hair tickled your cheek, heightening your sensitivity to his touch. 

“You know,” his words are a soft murmur against your skin, but you catch them, humming in response as you run your fingers over the dips of his well-sculpted back.  

“I read that the fastest way to warm the body up is when two people are naked. Why don’t we test it out, hm?” 

Pressing a kiss between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you smile into his skin.

“I could learn a survival tactic,” 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you press another kiss to his neck. 

“Or two,” 

Licking your way to his ear, you whisper. 

“ Or three. ” 

At your words, Satoru swiftly captures your lips as his hands go to grip the backs of your thighs. Before you knew it he was on his feet, kissing you feverishly while making his way to your room. He shuts the door with one foot, making you laugh against his lips. 

Your body comes in contact with your mattress, but you hardly register it as Satoru grinds his erection into you, greedily swallowing the moan he stole from your throat. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and you tug as your signal. Satoru groans into you, but pulls back at your command, removing his hungry lips to allow you to expose him. 

“This is too tiny, I think I should remove it, don’t you?” 

Satoru held your smile, spreading his arms wide as you came up to your knees, pulling the thin fabric off his body, revealing the masterpiece beneath. 

Sinewy muscle covered the entire length of his torso. His skin, pale and kissed a soft pink, covered various dips and ripples that you wanted to rake your nails down. You drank him in, from the power of his biceps to the dip of his defined adonis belt, mouth growing dry as you thought about what lurks beneath his concealing white pants. 

Selfishly, you ran your hands along his body. Starting from his chest you worked your way down to his navel, relishing in the warm feeling of his soft, smooth skin. Satoru tilted his head back, sighing as you continued to marvel at his beauty, tracing every outline of his hard work, memorizing each detail of him as he trembled beneath your touch. 

“You really are like a painting, you know,” you murmur in awe and wonder. 

It baffled you that you could even remotely hold this man’s interest, let alone be the one on the receiving end of his love. The thought made your heart squeeze, encouraging you to place a kiss to his bare chest, right above his pounding heart. 

His hand ran down the length of your hair, as his other came to cup your face. He lovingly stared into your eyes, all the desire of earlier there, but they now gazed at you softly. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” 

The sincerity of his words makes you smile like an idiot. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the sound of his low laugh. Lovely butterflies tickle your stomach as you lace your hands around his neck. 

Slowly, he makes you meet his eyes. You’re both grinning like children, but he had a devilish hint to his. 

“Why hide that smile from me?” pouting, he brings his face close to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Laughing lightly while leaning into his sweet gesture, you nuzzle your nose into his soft hair. 

“Because you make me happy.” the answer is honest and you press a kiss on his head. 

He hums into you as his hands find your shirt, playfully pulling it up to your neck, but not over your head. He blocks the fabric from leaving your skin as he trails feather-light kisses along your jaw. 

“Do I? Why’s that?” 

His words are soft against your skin, tickling you, making it hard to think. 

“I–” 

Pulling back from his lips, you meet his eyes. 

“I used to think that people who fell in love quickly were idiots blinded by rose-colored glasses.” biting your lip, you consider if you should continue. Satoru catches your hesitation and lightly rubs your lower back, silently encouraging you. 

Let go of your fear.

“But now I know, there is never a ‘right time’ to fall in love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single moment. You make me happy because you could’ve had anyone else in this world, and you chose me. The average girl who you met in a coffee shop on a rainy day. You make me feel seen Satoru. I don’t have to pretend with you.” 

Satoru smiles, bright and alive. His hands come up to your cheeks, cupping them gently as he holds your gaze. 

“Before you, I was convinced that I would live my life alone. That I would never find someone who would ever make me feel whole again. But… You are my sunlight, which I stand in, warmed and seen.” 

With your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest, you press your lips to his. 

“You see me so poetically,” those words, which he had once said to you, leave your lips in a soft murmur. 

His laugh tickles your lips as he lightly shakes his head, thumbs rubbing your heated cheeks. Satoru deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping past your barriers, sweetly dancing with your own. You melt into him, leaving every worry behind you. 

Slowly, he guides your body to the mattress. You feel his warm stomach press against yours as he settles himself between your clothed hips. He doesn’t do anything except kiss you. 

It’s a slow, passionate kiss. One full of love and appreciation, conveying emotions that words fail to capture. Your whole body felt alive, attuned with every breath, moving with each rise and fall of his chest, reacting flawlessly to the press of his lips. Your blood sang, electrified by his touch, eager to desperately drink him in. 

Satoru’s hands move from your face to the crumpled fabric of your shirt, removing his lips from yours momentarily to rid your neck of the cloth. The music of the kiss changes – now singing a more sensuous tune. 

You feel his thick member throb against your thigh as his hands run down the lengths of your arms, fingers enclosing your wrists. He moves his lips from yours to your cheek, kissing his way to your sensitive ear. Then he licks behind the shell, making you audibly gasp as he brings your hands over your head, holding them down with one hand as his other trails the side of your waist. 

Shivering beneath his explorative touch, you clench and unclench your hands, trying to ground yourself to reality. With each brush of his fingers, your muscles flinch, pure excitement and anticipation coursing through your touch-starved veins. 

“You’re so responsive~” he coos hotly into your ear. You shift under him, hoping to find relief in the friction, but he removes his lower body from yours. The movement makes you pout, but it opens the space for his hand to ghost over your bare stomach. 

Wet lips kiss their way down your neck down to the length of your collarbone. You bite your lower lip when he runs his teeth lightly against the bone. Your body jumps at the new feeling, earning yourself his chuckle as his hand dips under the band of your bra, brushing your left breast ever-so-lightly. 

Long fingers slowly make their way behind your back, easily unclasping the concealing material to only partially remove it from your breasts. He pushes the fabric up to your chest as his lips trail your sternum. His hair brushes against your breasts, and you clench your hands, nails biting into the flesh of your palms. The sensation not only tickles you, but it shocks your hyper-sensitive nerves. 

You meet Satoru’s eyes. He’s drinking in your every reaction, a smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. Readying to say a smart remark, you begin to push back on his hand, but he trails his tongue to your nipple – effectively replacing the words in your throat with a shaky sigh. 

Satoru swirls his tongue around your rosey bud, slowly and expertly warming your breast with his mouth. He takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, sucking diligently as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive peak. You gasp at the feeling, and he groans in response. Each of his intoxicating movements goes straight to that firey pit in your stomach, which only grows hungrier at his touch. 

“Mm, Satoru,” you moan breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth, applying the right amount of pressure to the bud as his free hand comes to work your unattended breast. 

He hums into your skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine as you close your eyes, losing yourself to the lull of his lips. Long nimble fingers work your breast harmonously with his mouth. They roll, pinch, and tease you as his tongue flicks and swirls. You mewl lightly as he switches breasts, giving the same treatment to your other that he gave the first. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, biting into the flesh of your breast, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You open your eyes, meeting his intense blue. He’s smiling against your skin as he ghosts his lips over your ribs, tongue trailing the outline of your tattoo. Your body shivers under him, eager for more as his head dips lower, closer to where you want him the most. 

“You’re the beautiful one,” the words come out as a sigh as he presses a kiss to your hip, right above the band of your sweatpants. 

“Hm,” he hums, trailing an elegant finger from your sternum to your navel, dipping the digit under the band. 

Satoru makes a show of kissing his way across your stomach, from one hip to the other, soft strands of his hair tickling you along the way. 

You squirm under him, wishing desperately to touch his hair. Longing to run your fingers through it, to ground yourself to this reality. He senses it, too. Because he gives you a knowing smile as he dips his hand under your pants, just barely brushing the top of your pelvis. 

“Getting impatient, Y/n?” he asks playfully as he takes his finger, lightly tugging a corner of your pants, exposing more of your hip to his tempting mouth. 

“I want to touch you,” finding some confidence, you push against his restraining hand, silently cursing his immeasurable strength. 

“Let’s see,” Satoru pauses, places his head on your thigh softly, then looks up at you innocently. The pressure is dizzying. So you count your breaths to stay alert, to not close your eyes and lose yourself in his presence. 

“I’ll release your hands as long as you stay still, can you do that for me, baby?” 

There was a mischievous look in his eyes, one that made your throat dry and had you clenching your thigh muscles. 

“Y-Yes?” 

You couldn’t hide your confusion, but he only smiled at the sight. His hand released your wrists and you immediately moved to shake out the numbness of your arms. 

“May I?”

His fingers dance around the edge of your sweats, eyes patiently awaiting your response. 

Eagerly, you nod your head. 

Satoru, still with his devilish smile, removed your sweatpants from your body. He then slid off the bed, dropping to his knees as he dragged your body to the edge. You rose yourself up on your elbows, not hiding your want from him. But also, you took in the sight – Satoru Gojo, half naked, and on his knees for you. 

His hands spread your knees for him, opening your legs wide. You, though still clothed in only your underwear, feel the air hit your heat. It was then you noticed how wet you were, and you know he noticed it too. 

Gently placing your legs over his shoulders, Satoru places a slow kiss on your calf. You watch as he drags his wet lips up your leg, pressing kisses to your tender skin. The higher he goes, the more sensitive you become, finding it increasingly difficult to not shift as muscle-jerking tingles hit you. 

Your hands find the soft strands of his hair as he reaches your inner thigh, now dangerously close to your need. You feel his breath kiss your heated skin, forcing you to clench his hair so you don’t move. Smiling, he presses his lips to the crease between your thigh and pussy making you sharply inhale. You cross your toes as the shiver runs through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“You’re already so wet for me,” Satoru hums appreciatively, then he places a kiss on your clothed mound. 

You barely have time to register the feeling, because he licks a zig-zag stripe up your heat, stopping just before meeting your clit. He moans into you as your taste lightly coats his tongue. The vibration makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you moan softly, bringing your hand up to your mouth, and biting down on your pointer finger. 

“Mmph!” 

Your yelp gets muffled into your skin as Satoru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, pressing his hot mouth against you, then drags it up . 

The brief pleasure of him brushing your clit has you trembling. He doesn’t stop till he reaches your navel, tongue dipping into the crevice, swirling around the sensitive skin only to retrace its path down, stopping just above your throbbing clit. His tongue moves left and right lazily, and his saliva coats the cloth of your underwear, intensifying the feeling, but it’s incomplete. 

“Ah, Toru’ – please.” your desperate plea fumbles out of your mouth as saliva begins traveling down your chin. You want – no, you need him on you, without any barriers. 

“Use your words for me pretty girl~” his words are hot and heavy against you, making you moan. And just for emphasis, he gives your needy clit a light flick of his tongue, making you bite your finger harder. 

He knows what you want, but he wants to hear you beg for it. 

“Please,” you breathe, unable to think. 

His hands join the party now. One goes to remove your finger from your mouth as his other presses his thumb to your entrance, goading you as his tongue continues to just barely flick your bundle of nerves. 

“Please what?” he encourages, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“I-I want you,” 

You weren’t sure what you wanted exactly. Part of you wanted him to make you see stars with that dangerous tongue of his, but the other half wanted to know exactly how full you’d feel with him in you. 

He laughs lightly against you, planting a kiss on your clit as his thumb pushes past your panties, entering your dripping entrance. All air leaves your lungs as he wraps his mouth against your clothed clit, licking while sucking you as his thumb gently pumps your walls. 

A broken string of curses leaves your lips as pleasurable fire dances down your legs. The sudden relief leaves your thoughts tangled and incomplete. It’s sweet and taunting, but you’re stuck, muscle taunt, and breath uneven as you try to keep your body still, unable to fully lose yourself to the pleasure. 

“S-Satoru,” you throatily moan his name. He groans into you, fingers gripping yours harder as he replaces his thumb with two long fingers, curling them up into you. 

Oh fuck. 

“Ah, shit just like that,” 

You tilt your head back, enjoying the way his calloused fingers feel against your velvet walls. Again and again, his digits just barely brush against that spongey spot in you, heightening the feeling of his ministrations against your clit. 

“Deeper,” you plead, needing him to hit your spot. 

Slowly, you open your eyes to see him smirk at you. Then, at your request, he pushes his fingers further into you while curling them up. Your eyes roll back as the new feeling courses through you. 

“Like that baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer. 

“Mm, yes, fuck just like that,” you answer, barely able to think straight. Your feet start to become unbearably hot as your stomach tightens. Your whole body trembles from both pleasure and restraint, and your leash on yourself is slowly slipping. Your back arches as he continues working you, eliciting obscene noises from you. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises and you bite your throaty moan back. 

Pressing your palm flat against his scalp, you push his head further into you. Taking your silent plea, he releases your hand to push your soaked panties to the side, tongue finally coming into contact with your bare skin. The intense feeling crashes upon you and you lose control of your limbs. You lock his head into place as you dig your fingers into his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue. His fingers match your unhinged pace and he moans into you, sending sweet vibrations down your clit to that growing bomb in your stomach. 

You feel your walls tightening as your high threatens to crash over you. Your moans are now strangled and incoherent as everything now feels so good . Finally, you open your eyes, daring to see the sight in front of you. 

Satoru’s lovely eyes burn right through you, heated desire evident on his features. The sight of him, on his knees, between your legs, giving you his devout attention, has you shaking uncontrollably. 

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/n.” 

His words are your undoing. 

You come violently around his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer, walls clenching and unclenching as your body trembles sweetly. Satoru smiles up at you, removing his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue. 

Bringing those two glistening fingers to your mouth he commands: 

“Suck,” then his tongue is back into your entrance, fucking you with the stiff muscle.

And so you do, wrapping your mouth around his fingers, whimpering as you suck diligently all while your orgasm rips through you. 

He swipes his nose against your hyper-sensitive bud as he laps you up, tongue swirling and curling inside you. You cry out helplessly, fisting your hands in the sheets as your stomach jerks. The pleasure is numbingly good, but it’s too much. 

“S-Satoru– Ah sto– Jesus fucking Christ,” The last part of your broken sentence comes out in English, which grabs the man's attention. Amused blue eyes peer up at you, taking in the sight of the mess he created. His lips glisten with you and they’re pulled into that familiar smirk. You couldn’t help but think he was beautiful, like that of a fallen angel.

He removes himself from your heat, finally taking your ruined panties off your body as you close your eyes, breathing hard and unevenly. You try to collect yourself, but the after-effects of your orgasm still linger in your veins, stealing your attention. 

But you are far from satiated, if anything, it left you wanting more . 

Blindly, you reach out for his body. Your fingers find his biceps and you tentatively run your hands down his smooth skin, despite the tingle in your fingertips. Satoru plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, then your temple, then your forehead, until he’s placed kisses around your entire face, leaving you with light giggles. His weight returns to your body, and you’re happy to feel his bare legs brush against your own. 

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbles dreamily into your skin, still placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. 

Smiling as you trace the outline of his tricep, you open your eyes to find him looking at you sweetly. The sight makes your heart lurch. So you return his kisses, pressing your lips to his heated skin, tasting yourself on his flesh.

“I think,” whispering, you bring a shaky hand to his chin, wiping away some of your desire. 

“This speaks for itself. But,” 

Kissing the corner of his mouth, you run your other hand down his abdomen, nails lightly digging into every dip and ridge of his defined muscles. 

“But?” he hums, and you feel his lips pull into a smile. 

Your hand travels south till it reaches his length. You take the girthy member in your hand and pump him once, relishing in the way it jumps in your palm as Satoru inhales sharply. 

“I want to taste you, too.” 

With your hand that held his chin, you turn his face to you, capturing his lips. Your desire coats your tongue as his muscle dances with yours. You slowly pump his throbbing member, thumb swiping over the tip, coating his soft skin with a bead of precum. Satoru steals your tongue, sucking on your muscle while groaning. 

Hooking your legs around his, you flip your bodies so you are now on top of him. You pull back from the kiss to admire the sight. Soft white eyelashes flutter against his red cheeks as you continue pumping his cock. 

You watch as his throat bobs up and down and he licks his lips. The image added fuel to your growing fire, filling you with determination to not only please the man before you, but to make him as much of a whimpering mess as he made you. 

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you place a kiss on his neck. You continue working his shaft, focusing mostly on the head, but with only enough pressure to move his skin, but not to truly stimulate him. Your lips travel south, your tongue joining the mix as you admire his body, ensuring to greedily trace the skin where your mouth doesn’t explore. Satoru shifts under you, slowly growing more impatient as lick your way down the line that separates his abs. 

You hold his stare, watching as his eyebrows knit together the closer you get to his cock. 

Giving the male a knowing smile, you pull his shaft back, allowing yourself the space to flatten your tongue on his pelvis. You feel the light prickle of his growing pubic hair as you drag your muscle to his hip bone, tracing the outline of it with the tip, enjoying the way his body shivers under you. 

Goosebumps pepper Satoru’s skin as his hands find your arms, rubbing them lightly. Smiling, you press your lips to the crease of his thigh, then lick the skin beneath. You feel Satoru’s thigh muscle tense and you chuckle, applying more pressure to the tip, earning yourself a low groan.

“So responsive~” you tease him with his own words, pressing your thumb to his tip, admiring the way his desire coats your skin. 

Bringing your face close to his need, you breathe lightly onto his heated skin, knowing full well what the light sensation did to him. You watch as his eyes roll back slightly, his large hands now wrapping around your biceps as he shudders. 

“Say,” 

Pausing, you swirl your tongue around him once, then flick the head lightly. Satoru half moans, half chokes from the sudden sensation. But you pull back completely, returning to your taunting hand movement. 

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, licking your way up from his base to the tip, this time allowing yourself to taste him. The salty yet sweet taste coats the very tip of your tongue, and you moan appreciatively. 

Satoru tilts his head back and bites his lip. You feel his hands tremble, noticing his restraint. 

“Your mouth. Now .” 

You click your tongue. 

“Here?” 

Pressing a kiss to his thigh, you feel his cock jump in your hand. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you were also drunk off of the sheer power you held over this man. Who’s body is sculpted like that of a Greek god and holds the title of the strongest, yet yields to you.

“Y/n,” he warns, voice low and strained. His hands now move to your hair, tangling themselves in your strands, pulling lightly. 

I like it when you say my name. 

“Ah, you’re right. Here?” 

Pushing his skin up so that his precum leaks out, you press a slow open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking your way across the bulk of the head. You continue this exact motion, pumping him just as slowly as you were kissing him. Satoru watches you intently, hands shaking in your hair as you hold his gaze. 

“More,” he urges desperately, bucking his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You relent, but only for an inch. 

Removing your hand entirely, you rub the sides of his thighs as you slowly suck that inch of his cock, swirling your tongue at the tip with every motion. You watch Satoru go mad, both hating and loving your tease. There was desperation in his eyes along with restraint, and you took advantage of that. 

As soon as he knew exactly how well you could take it, well, the game would be over. 

“As much of me as you can Y/n,” Satoru is breathing heavily, hands still in your hair but he doesn’t force himself in your mouth. Instead, he holds fast, letting you continue your slow torture. 

You hum around him, allowing half of his cock into your mouth, the tip now reaching the back of your throat. His eyes roll back as you suck a little harder, but not any faster. You bring one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you work his shaft. A soft moan leaves Satoru’s lips as it goes to your core, urging you to forget your game and give him your all. But he’s not near the point where you were when he finally gave in, and that alone makes you hold out. 

Continuing to softly hum into him, you start to add slurping noises to your song. Satoru’s eyes roll shut and a small whimper leaves him. 

“Can you take more of me, baby?” his fingers massage your scalp, feeling the slow bob of your head. 

Oh, you think you're too big, do you? 

With an inward smile, you let your thickened saliva dribble down to his base, then you quickly take all of him in. You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, letting his impressive length travel down your esophagus till your nose is touching his stomach. 

“S-Shit–” Satoru curses, strong hands holding your head in place for a moment. Once he releases his grip, you return to your previous position on his shaft, sucking his member slowly. 

His eyes shoot open, looking at you with both shock and confusion. You flutter your eyelashes sweetly as you continue your torturing pace. Satoru sucks in the air between his teeth, the realization of you not being as innocent as he may have thought settling over him. 

“Please,” he breathes heavily, eyes transfixed on the base of his cock where your mouth was just moments before. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it was delicious . 

Taking him out of your mouth with a satisfying ‘ pop ’ , you stick out your tongue, slapping his cock against it. His eyes turn dark at the sight as his mouth falls slightly open, a satisfied smirk pulled on his wet lips.

“Please what, baby? What do you want? Don’t be shy.” 

You trace the outline of his red tip with your lips, eyes never leaving his. His throat bobs as he considers his words, clearly, he still views you as fragile, and you have every intention of breaking that image. 

“Please let me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours,”

You smirk, planting a kiss on his head, and then you hop off the bed, taking him with you. Satoru silently follows your lead, eyes raking your frame as yours watch the way his member stands proudly against his stomach. Angry red and glistening with your saliva. 

Sending your confused lover a wink, you get back on the bed, laying on your back, hanging your head over the edge. 

You now have a full good view of his perfect body. You hungrily look at his length, happy to find that it has a light curve. You clench your legs together at the thought of him in you, and Satoru smiles. He spreads your clenched legs while his other grabs his shaft, giving it a pump before he slaps it against your lips. 

“Open up baby,” 

At his command, you open your lips, making a show of stretching your neck and sticking out your tongue. Satoru leans forward, bracing himself with one hand as his other guides his cock into your mouth. He slowly pushes himself down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to his thickness. At this angle, your throat is tighter and it's harder to breathe, but that’s what you wanted. 

He begins moving his hips. His start is slow, allowing your saliva to coat him. You take the time to find the right position, hands going to cup his ass for the support you knew you were going to need. Then, just like you thought, Satoru moves. His hips snap forward with just enough force to push himself down your restricted throat, but not enough to crush your nose. You moan into his skin, happily hollowing out your cheeks, slurping and choking on him. 

“God you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans while his free hand goes to massage your clit. 

Rough fingers work your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving the soft skin with each thrust of his skillfully controlled hips. Your tongue moves with him, licking and wrapping around what it can. You begin to lose yourself in his soft moans, enjoying them as the air in your lungs becomes thinner and thinner. 

It gets increasingly hard to breathe and you love it, sucking down what bit of air you can in between each of his thrusts. Your mouth pools with your thick saliva and it trails down your chin, spilling onto your neck, but you pay it no mind. You simply angle your head further, digging your fingers into his ass to give him better access to your abused throat. 

His hand moves to your entrance, two fingers plunging into you, fucking you at his relentless pace. Satoru's palm rubs against your harden clit and tears prick your eyes. Strangled moans fight to come out of your throat between his movements as abrupt pleasure courses through you, motivating you to please him further. 

Satoru’s thrusts become more erratic and you begin to feel the base of his cock twitch in your mouth, prompting you to moan around him. You send sweet vibrations down his cock, and he curses under his breath, fingers in your pussy delving deeper, brushing that spot, making your stomach tighten. 

“Fuck,” groaning, Satoru thrusts himself deep into your throat, pausing entirely as thick ribbons of his seed shoot down your pipe. His fingers that pleased you move to your throat as he feels himself come in you. You hold still, licking him with your tongue until he readies himself to slowly pull out of your mouth. 

Turning so your belly is flat against the mattress, you start to swallow his seed, ensuring your gulp is audible so he hears you. He watches you with a smile on his face, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping over your near-bruised lips. 

You take note of his cock, still very erect against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n.” 

Your name left his lips in a breathless pant, and it was enough to make your walls clench. 

Satoru smiles down at you, dropping to his knees so he can capture your lips. The kiss is tender and soft, and it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“You hurtin’ at all?” he asks between each press of his lips. You smile into the kiss, playfully nibbling his lower lip. 

“Not at all, I could do that again.”  

He chuckles, shaking his head as his hands run down the length of your spine. The touch is light with no intention other than feeling your skin. Satoru pulls back from the kiss to press his soft lips to your forehead. 

“We can stop here if you want.” his voice is full of practiced calm. 

His hand runs down your hair, soothing your mind all while your body is still burning with desire. 

It had been so long since you had shared a kiss, let alone your bed with someone. The touch of others felt so invasive until Satoru. You would be damned if you let him go now. 

“Satoru, you’re not going to hurt me.” 

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sigh. You knew he had insecurities, and you know it’s only amplified by you being entirely, well, human. But you want to ease his worries, in every way you possibly could. 

“You don’t know that, Y/n.” 

Pulling back, you force him to hold your stare. 

“Our time is short. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. I want you, Satoru, in all senses of the word.” 

You lovingly hold his face, thumbs gently sweeping over your cheeks like he had done for you. The quiet tender gesture lingers between you as your breaths intertwine. You see him considering your words in those knowing blue eyes, ever-calculating and so full of thought. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you.” 

A laugh almost escaped your lips. The serious look on his face would make anyone stop cold, but it only made you smile. 

“I promise. But you won’t hurt me, I trust you.” 

At those words, Satoru captures your lips, tongue sweetly passing through your lips, immediately claiming yours for his own. Tentative hands explore your body, fingers lightly brushing over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Moving to tangle your fingers in his hair, you run your teeth along the expanse of his tongue, smiling at the groan that leaves his lips. 

Satoru’s hands guide your body up as he stands, his lips never leaving yours even as he presses your back to the mattress. Gentle hands spread your legs for him and you hiss. The feeling of cool air hits your wet need followed by the feeling of Satoru’s still slick member rubbing up against you. His warmth shocks you and he smiles at the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes. 

Primal desire stares back at you.

You can’t help but let your eyes travel south, watching as he rubs himself against your slickness, hand on the base of his cock. His tip just barely brushes your clit and you moan, feeling your walls immediately clench at the swift pleasure. 

“You want this dick, Y/n?” Satoru’s gravelly voice asks as he slaps his cock against your clit. 

Dear lord help me. 

“Y-Yes,” you half breathe, half moan out. 

“Look at me,” 

You do as commanded, tearing your eyes away from his impressive length to find his heated gaze. 

“Use your words,” 

He rewards you with another slap to your clit and you moan, the brief relief making your toes curl. Mindlessly, you run your hands down his arms, raking your nails down his triceps as you try to formulate words. 

“Please fuck me,” you watch his face, eyes full of hope, but he only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, prodding your entrance. His taunt is maddening, and you try to shift your hips down, but a strong hand holds you in place. 

“You can do better princess. Tell me exactly how you want me,” he smirks down at you, tip still just barely pushing at your entrance, all promise of everything you want. 

Biting your lip, you swallow your pride. 

“I want you to fuck me so hard that every time I sit down I can only think of you.”

A small breath leaves his lips and he smiles, shaking his head. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that answer. 

“So full of surprises,” 

“Surprised are you–”

Before you could finish your sentence he pushes himself into you, stealing all the air from your lungs. 

His thick length pushes past the first ring, and the feeling is so sickeningly sweet. Relief floods your veins as he fills you, your walls stretching to accommodate and hug his member, pulling him further into you. 

“Holy shit,” you sigh, digging your nails into his arms as you spread your legs wider, giving him all of you. 

“God, Y/n, you’re so fucking tight even after all that.” his voice is strained as he grabs your right thigh, fingers digging into the plush of your skin as he bottoms out in your pussy, holding completely still, allowing you to adjust. 

You feel your walls clench and unclench happily, he stretches and fills you so well it is dizzying. You press kisses to his sculpted chest, a silent plea for him to move. He picks up on your hint well, slowly pulling his hips back to only push them back into you. Even a heartbeat of him not being in you made you feel so incomplete, the way his body fit with yours was almost too perfect. 

“Fuck Satoru,” you moan closing your eyes, letting your head fall back, focusing solely on the blissful feeling of him. 

His hips keep a steady slow pace, allowing your bodies the chance to adjust to one another. Satoru shifts your leg to prop it over his shoulder, making him go just a little bit deeper into you, pulling a throaty moan from you. 

“Hold onto something baby,” he warns and you barely register his words, hands enclosing his wrists as he picks up his pace, pulling his cock out of you to the tip to snap it back into you.  

“Oh my fucking God,” your eyes snap open as you watch Satoru rail your pussy. Your breasts bounce at his pace and you moan loudly, unable to hold back your noises. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/n.” he praises breathily and you moan, happy for the praise. 

“Mmph– Fuck so do yo– ahh” your sentence is broken, unable to speak due to the dizzying speed of his powerful thrusts. 

Each snap of his hips is expertly controlled. He angles himself up so he doesn’t hit your cervix as he ensures not to fully crush your body. One hand holds your thigh in a fixed position as his other holds your hip, moving your body with his seamlessly. Heavy breasts bounce against your chest as your body feels electric, alive, and taught; like you’re walking on a live wire. Pleasure kisses your nerves, promising new, but terrifying heights. 

“Open your mouth,” Satoru’s strained voice commands, and your pussy pulses in response. 

Swallowing thickly you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for dramatic flare, trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Satoru smiles at the sight, leaning over you further, then spits in your mouth. Your mixed taste coats your tongue and you whimper as his thumb goes to circle your clit. 

“Hold it in your mouth till I tell you to swallow princess. Can you do that for me?” your stomach tightens at the sensation of his thumb, but it’s almost faint due to the overwhelming pleasure his cock brings you. 

Feeling entirely submissive and breedable you nod your head, your saliva already beginning to build in your mouth.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees.” 

Satoru completely releases your body, allowing you to flip over and get on all fours. A whimper leaves your lips due to the loss of him, but you shake your ass for him. The action earns you a slap to your ass, his fingers dig into your plump skin as he shakes the flesh for himself, and you curse, feeling your desire drip down your inner thighs. 

You feel his nimble finger trail your wet slit, and he whistles. Then, his mouth is on your ass, tongue circling your tight ring. Strong hands shake your ass as he continues to lick and probe your hole, making your legs shake. The feeling is entirely new, and it feels good. Not as good as when he eats your pussy, but it's enough to have your walls clenching and clit throbbing. 

The spit in your mouth begins to push out of the corners of your lips as you try to hold your moans back. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as Satoru trails his way to your dripping entrance, tongue dragging down till his licking your sensitive clit. As if it wasn’t enough, his thumb pushes into your tight asshole, pumping the well-lubricated hole. 

I am not going to survive this man.

“Swallow baby, let me hear you.” 

You gratefully swallow your combined spit, moaning loudly as your first breath leaves your lips. 

“Satoru fuck me please,” you plead, feeling so empty it’s maddening. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you were certain your body wouldn’t grant you release unless he was in you. 

You feel his head pull away from your pussy as his fingers enter you, just barely scratching your itch. It was laughable to compare the feeling of his fingers to his cock – it wasn’t nearly enough. 

“Like this baby?” his thumb still plays with your asshole as he curls and pumps his fingers in you. Your thoughts are tangled, and words are hard to push out of your throat, getting caught in the thick layer of saliva coating your mouth.

“I want… Your cock. Please, please, please, I–” tears pricked your eyes, you were overstimulated. 

Closing your eyes you took deep breaths, feeling as he pulled his fingers out of you to only wrap his hand around your hair, pulling your neck up. His tip pokes your throbbing entrance as his heavy breath kisses your ear. 

“You want me, Y/n?” the heavy seductive words makes your spine tingle.

“I want all of you, Satoru.” though you tried to force your voice to sound normal, the words came out in a quiver. 

“Good,” 

Then he was in you, cock plunging deep within your velvet walls, stoking the burning fire in your stomach. You arch your back, mewling harshly at the abrupt feeling of him filling you. 

“You feel so good, fuck.” Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back to then fill you back up, thick member stretching you too fucking good. 

With his hand still wrapped around your hair, he pushes your neck down so your face is pressed against the mattress. You open your eyes, face rubbing against the bed, and watch the man above you. His head is tilted back, bottom lip between his teeth as he works to make you both feel good – hips rolling into yours, enjoying the feeling of your walls sucking him back in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan softly, completely entranced. 

Satoru smiles, eyes opening and he pushes strands of your hair away from your sticky forehead.

“All you baby girl,” he pushes himself further into you, angling himself up, completely hitting that spot. 

“Oh fuck!” you curse, letting the brief pulse of intense pleasure run through you.

“You like that baby?” knowing full well what he’s doing, Satoru grabs your hips, hitting your spot again, making your muscles jerk. 

“Ah– Yes!” words were lost to you as white-hot pleasurable fire ran through your veins, making your entire body shake. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Satoru grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic. 

“I– Mmph, yours!” with eyes rolling to the back of your head, you focus on your core, feeling your high threaten to crash over you.

“That’s right, Y/n.” fingers dig into the flesh of your ass “You’re. Mine.” he declares between powerful thrusts, still ensuring to hit that spongey spot, making your vision blot with white. 

“I– I am so fucking close, Satoru,” the words are a cry and you feel your whole body become taught, preparing itself for its inevitable crash to earth.

“Come on my cock baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

And as if the word was law, your body did as he asked. 

Your second orgasm ripped through you, pulling a scream from your throat. It’s dizzying, disorienting, and far too intense. Your body spasms uncontrollably as electrifying pleasure coursed through you, making your toes curl. You try to run away, but you are locked into place by Satoru's strong hands. With each pulse of your orgasm, your walls clench and grip Satrou’s cock, dragging him to earth with you. He ensures to thrust harmoniously to the rhythm of your pulses as thick ribbons of his cum mix with your own, filling up your belly. 

With breath heavy and uneven, you both fall to your mattress. Sartoru's sweaty body presses against your back as he rubs your arms all while pressing kisses to your temple. Your body shook as you came down from your high, thighs jerking with each breath and light movement from the male still plunged within you. 

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” his words are a soft whisper against your skin. 

Eyes still close, you nod. The intense pleasure left you light-headed and unable to speak. So instead, you angle your head and capture your lover’s lips. Soft and sweet, and entirely loving. Satoru smiles against your lips, hands lightly rubbing your sides. 

“Let's turn over so I can hold you, yeah?" his words tickle your lips, making you smile. You let him move your body with effortless ease. 

The male holds you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your small frame, enveloping you in his radiating warmth. His strong heartbeat sounds in his chest, and you listen to it in earnest, thankful for the fact that he is alive. 

You stay like that for a moment, listening to the sound of him while he kisses your skin, both being silently thankful for the other.  

“I love you, Y/n,” Satoru whispers into your hair, lips still pressed to your scalp. 

With a child-like smile, you peer up at him. Brillant blue peers into your soul, calling to you, to your bond, and your heart sings in response. 

“And I love you, Satoru. My heart is yours.” his eyes fold kindly, just like that first night in your kitchen. 

“And mine is yours. You’ve healed me.” 

—

You spent what little time you had left with Satoru, soaking up every minute, second, and hour. You both decided it was pointless to dwell on the unknown, so instead you enjoyed each moment that you were allotted. Sharing stories of your adventures, travels, and struggles. You healed each other, in ways that one would think impossible. You renewed each other's souls, in turn binding yourselves together. 

“You know, that day we met, I think my heart knew before I did that I needed you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I didn’t even know you, but seeing you was enough to wash away every ounce of my pain. My body moved before I could think. So I dropped the lamest pick-up line ever known to mankind.”

“Haha, yeah. But it worked out didn’t it?”

“That it did. You are my greatest treasure, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, please come back to me safely.” 

Satoru smirked, all of his bravado pulled into every atom of his existence. 

“Don’t worry, I am the strongest. I can’t leave my fiance all alone now can I?” 

“No, you can’t.”

“See? So don’t worry about me, baby.”

With that, the lovely male plants a passionate kiss on your lips, and then walks away.

[eddiernunson]

"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

NOW POSTED

Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.

Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie

Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described.

Word Count of the Sneak Peak: 879

Here it is, a sneak peak of my corruption!kink fic:

Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress slinks over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.

By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the way there’s sparce vehicles, spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.

This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.

The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.

Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.

As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing to his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.

Eddie had every intention on kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body involuntarily towards him.

Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you were horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.

The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more every muscle feeling like jelly as he’s so damn good at it. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for each-other. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”

Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “no.”

 Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”

The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.

“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.

Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “no.”

His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.

God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.

His cock has never hurt so much from the blood rushed to it, probably an angry red at this point.

“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.

-

Im so sorry it's so little, but I'm truly proud of the smut in this fic... I didn't want to give it all away. My editor currently has a lot on her plate, so I'm not quite sure when she'll be able to post it. If you want to be tagged when the full 11kish is posted, just me know.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

[modelbus]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a wilbur soot x female reader? (romantic)

i was thinking some headcannons of things Wil would do as a bf/cute moments fans have clipped from streams of him like, showing you off, complimenting or bragging about you.

no pressure to do this at all! <3

I did a bit of both headcannons and clipped moments! Also yes the little photo thing is of wilbur :)

Pairing: CC!Wilbur x Fem!Reader

When With Wilbur

When (not if, lets be honest here) you wear his jumpers, he fucking melts. It's like: Woah, that's his girlfriend. wearing his clothes. Holy shit. He loves you.

You walk into his office holding two cups of coffee, a sheepish look on your face. "You won't believe what just happened to me."

"I won't?" Wilbur asks, navigating his Minecraft character to a safe spot before looking up at you. "Woah." He murmurs, mic barely picking it up.

The last he had seen you, twenty minutes ago, you had left his stream claiming you were going to get coffee. Now here you were, with two coffees, but wearing his jumper. His girlfriend. Wearing his jumper. On stream.

"It started downpouring! So I had to stop by the flat and grab something so I wouldn't drown!"

"Mhm." He hums, but it's obvious he isn't hearing a word you're saying. He's far too distracted by how you look wearing his clothes, how you're wearing his clothes in front of thousands of viewers.

"But at least I got coffee." You finish, plopping down in the chair he had found for you.

“Thank you.” He accepts the offered cup from you, eyes never leaving you. “Uh, so where was I?”

Wilbur really wants to show his love for you at all times and 80% of that is him calling you pet names

“Hey, love, do you know where my yellow pick went?”

“The Fender one?”

Wilbur nods, strumming idly while he reads chat.

“Didn’t you break it last night when I bet you twenty you couldn’t play World’s Smallest Violin?”

He snaps his fingers, turning around in his chair to face you. “You still owe me money for that.”

“Technically you broke your pick and couldn’t do it, so…”

“No, you still owe me that money.”

“Oh, wow, look at the time I have to get going! Bye bye!” Waving with a smile, you slowly start to back up.

As you vanish out the door, he turns back to his stream to whisper, “she’s just like Tommy. Holding her presence ransom. Last time I ever let the two of them in a room together.”

Wilbur absolutely loves to show you off at any given chance

Whenever Tommy invites the both of you to his vlogs (which he does a lot, he is the biggest shipper of you two) Wilbur always takes the chance to be super affectionate.

“Wil, Wil! Take aesthetic photos of me!” Tommy yells, awkwardly posing in the tulip field.

“He’s definitely succeeding at being a VSCO girl.” You whisper to Wilbur.

Tommy's whole thing for this vlog was being a VSCO girl for a day. For some reason that meant he had to drag you and Wilbur along, but you weren't complaining. Filming his vlogs was a lot of fun.

Wilbur laughs, bending over to pick one of the tulips. "Here. It's not as pretty as you, but it'll have to do."

You immediately blush, ducking your head a little as you take it. "Thank you."

"Hear that vlog nation? My girlfriend is prettier than all of these tulips combined. Fuck you guys." Wilbur tells the camera, holding it up to film you two instead of filming Tommy like asked.

As a joke you mimic having a crown on your head, playing it up. Wilbur smiles, turning and pulling you in for a kiss.

"Oi! Lovebirds! Stop making out and start filming me!" Tommy yells.

"Fuck you!" Wilbur yells back before lowering his voice. "I swear to God I'm going to kill him one day."

"He's your brother, you can't do that." You give him another kiss before turning and calling out to Tommy, "Your angles are off!"

"Fuck!"

He always responds to your texts/calls, even if he's in the middle of something.

"Hang on Tommy, I have to respond to this message."

"We are literally streaming, what the fuck."

Wilbur loves to cuddle you and will take any excuse to. You're a little cold? Oh, time to cuddle. There's a new movie out? Clearly you two have to cuddle and watch it together.

He also loves to write you little notes and leave them in places for you to find because he loves to see you smile. They're stuff like "you're so pretty" or just "I love you."

There is not a single stream where you aren't mentioned in some way. Even if it's just an offhand thing. Wilbur remembers every little detail about you so he can tie you into anything.

"Oh, I should get these flowers." Wilbur remarks, moving to break some flowers in Minecraft.

"What for?" Tommy asks, following him. "Oh, ew. Never mind. Love. I'll have you know the only one I love is the grind, and the grind doesn't like flowers."

"Sorry for being a good boyfriend," Wilbur says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I'll give these to her when we get back. Were we headed this way?"

Sometimes he'll tell chat when you two go out on a date but sometimes he doesn't because he wants it to be just his to think about and smile about. It doesn't really matter because chat can tell by how smiley he is that he’s thinking of you.

Wilbur has definitely written so many songs about you. Only one or two ever get recorded, but he has a journal just filled with little poetic lines about you.

You are at every single gig he ever does and every single time he performs a song inspired by you, he'll shout you out. He uses it as an excuse to brag about you a little too.

"This song is about- well. You all know who this song is about! Everyone cheer for my spectacular and beautiful girlfriend who is somewhere in this crowd!"

[xjustakay]

(8/25) prompt: gold — 1150 words (firefighter james episode 2: being a menace - pt.1, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5) @jegulus-microfic

Regulus loves photography, he does. It’s been a great hobby to pass the time and an excellent excuse for his mildly pretentious takes when it comes to ‘aesthetic.’

The thing is, he really should have thought this particular project through a bit more.

A day off from the coffee shop to work on a shoot, sure, great. In theory. In context? In the context of taking photos of oiled up firefighters in various states of partial undress for a charity calendar? Mistakes may have been made. He’s too gay for this —a realization made too far into the commitment to back out.

Really, it hit him like a fist to the face the moment James’ turn came up.

Stupid. Idiot. Absolute fucking fool.

As if Regulus didn’t know that the man he’s been steadily seeing and getting to know recently —the man who suggested he help with this project in the first place— wouldn’t volunteer to be part of the group for the photoshoot. Of fucking course James would; “it’s for charity,” he’d said.

Regulus is going to throttle him later.

Or mount him.

Could go either direction at this point.

They’re around the back of the station building, just the two of them. It was specifically stated that the individuals who were volunteering to take part in the calendar would have to utilize one of their rare days off to shoot their photos so the fire station wasn’t under-covered on staff. Regulus and James could be doing anything else in the world with this day, but no. No, they’re here, with James rubbing baby oil over his naked torso while Regulus tries to keep from literally fucking salivating.

He’s known James was fit from the moment he walked into the coffee shop and made a place for himself in Regulus’ life. Fully clothed, the man is unbearably gorgeous. Underneath his clothes? God, it’s worse. It’s painful.

All defined lines of muscle and warm tan skin. James works out on a regular basis, has to stay in shape for his job, but it’s more than that. Regulus has learned that James has always been athletically inclined. James prides himself on his body, and he’s not shy about it. 

Which is obvious in the way that he looks up from his own bare chest and catches Regulus staring, a knowing smirk instantly twitching at his lips.

“Care to help slick me up?”

“I should kill you.” It slips past Regulus’ lips without thought to pause, but all James does is laugh loudly, head tipped back with the lovely sound. Regulus huffs, shifting on his feet. “Are you almost done? I have other things I want to be doing.”

“Care to share?” James tosses the bottle of oil onto the grass, wiping off the remainder on his hands down the ridges of his stomach. “Don’t spare any of the dirty details now, love.”

Regulus manages to glare at him, but it’s weak considering the blush that colors his cheeks. “You’re a menace to society.”

“Public hero, menace to society.” James lifts his hands, leaning one direction then the next, like weighing an invisible scale.

“Fix your fucking suspenders.”

“Fix them for me.” Both dark brows lift over the gold frames of James’ glasses, a dangerous grin stretching across his face.

Letting his camera hang from the neck strap, Regulus lets out a dramatic sigh but crosses the small distance toward him. James positively lights up as he approaches, standing miraculously still to let Regulus do what he needs.

James is wearing the yellow turnout pants typical of his uniform, obviously sans a shirt. The pants hang suspiciously lower on James’ hips today, the defined line that narrows beneath his waistband on display. Attached to that band, though, are the usual thick red suspenders, hanging on either side of James’ legs presently. Regulus tugs one up fully over James’ left shoulder, actively working to keep his eyes from venturing to anything more distracting.

“Keep this arm bent against the wall.” Regulus handles him a little roughly on purpose, yanking his arm up as needed to pose him beside the brick wall.

“And this one?” James asks, sliding his opposite hand down Regulus’ side, squeezing at his hip when he gets there.

Regulus takes a slow deep breath through his nose before glancing up at James’ face finally. He swats at the hand on his hip blindly. “Keep it to yourself.”

A charged pause, Regulus’ head cocking to the side before:

“For now.”

James huffs a laugh, but the smug satisfaction on his face shines brighter than his amusement. Regulus loops the other suspender over James’ right forearm, hooking it in the crook of his elbow when he guides James to bend the arm. He presses James’ right hand against the top edge of his turnout pants, meeting his eyes evenly.

“Tuck your thumb into them a little,” He instructs.

James immediately follows direction and it sends a static through Regulus that makes him wish they weren’t quite literally outside James’ place of work currently. James tugs at the waistband slightly more than entirely necessary, exposing more of the sharp line that Regulus is definitely not thinking about tracing with his tongue. He’s being professional, damn it.

“Like that?” James checks, voice low.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect.” Regulus’ words come out breathier than before, and he catches himself staring downward with a jolt and a fluttered blink. He clears his throat and takes a much needed step back. “Now stare off to the right, look moody if you have to.”

“Thought that was your job.”

“Do less comedy.”

James snorts but stays in the posed position, turning his head as requested. Regulus takes another few steps back for the full shot and lifts the camera from his chest. As if knowing he’s already having a hell of a time doing this job, it’s like the universe itself is against Regulus the way that the sun shines perfectly, haloing James beautifully where he stands —a god damn wet dream being immortalized.

Maybe Regulus takes a couple extra shots. For… purely artistic purposes. Obviously.

Once again, before he gives himself the thought to stop from speaking his thoughts aloud, Regulus asks, “Can you wear this at home?”

He looks up from the tiny square screen on the camera toward James. It’s obvious that James is trying to refrain from laughing, having not been dismissed from his current pose, but he does turn his head to look at Regulus delightedly.

“Oh, so that’s what you’d rather be doing, huh? Wouldn’t have guessed.” James taunts, his playful arrogance never-ending. “Need to work out a bit of a fantasy for yourself, is that it?”

Regulus blushes again, but he meets the teasing evenly this time. “Why do you think I started dating you?”

This time James does laugh, unhelpable. Regulus sneaks a picture of that, too, just for himself.

[onyourowndaisymae]

would i follow these obey me characters on social media? + social media headcanons

explanations + hcs below the cut:

content warnings: playful mentions of cyberbullying/death threats (reader's discretion advised)

post notifications on, loyal mutuals for life: thirteen, barbatos, mammon, satan

you cannot convince me thirteen does not have the funniest fucking twitter imaginable. she posts a lot of funny shit herself but also retweets a lot of good content too. she seems like the type to get in fights on social media and win by humiliating her opponent in the funniest way possible. probably makes a lot of jokes about fucking one or both of your parents

the barbatos one might be controversial but hear me out. i think that any account he'd run in association to his work would be dry as hell. but a personal, deeply private account? funny as FUCK. i think this man wouldn't post very often but when he does, it is quite literally some of the funniest shit you've ever seen. he's ancient, too, so i think he'd be persistent. just years of logging on to tell elon musk to k*ll himself (whiCH I AM NOT ENDORSING @ THE GOV IM JUST MAKING A JOKE OKAY WE'RE ALL LAUGHING HERE) in new and creative ways

mammon would probably post a lot about his shenanigans and that to me is worth tuning in to. i think his social media would consist of him posting about a new scheme/plan part of the way through (when things are most exciting) and then updating hours/days later with an "update: lucifer caught me and made me wear a dunce hat for a week straight" or something like that

satan would post the most normally in this category but i think he'd have some genuinely interesting stuff. he'd probably use a photo-based platform like instagram (technically devilgram but y'know what i mean) and his content would fall into two categories: cat pics and the most amazing, exclusive events you've ever seen. he'll post a photo dump of cats he feeds one week and then next is him at some gorgeous exclusive hot springs on a free trip one of his connections invited him on.

mutuals by choice <3: asmo, simeon, luke, levi

asmo posts a lot about himself, but like. c'mon. he's so pretty. and he also just posts a lot of pretty aesthetic influencer photos so it's nice to see him on your feed. he posts a lot, too, so your feed never quite runs dry when he's your mutual. he's also the type to hype your photos up in the comments like you're the only other person on the platform. lots of heart emojis and flirtatious comments on very mundane posts

simeon would be fun to follow in the way that old people are fun to follow on social media. long, sweet captions on his weekly post (that someone helped him post), cute but off-center selfies with the things he cares about, funny grandpa comments on your photos-- ex. "nice photo mc... 👍" without realizing how funny that comes off

luke is just cute and posts cute things. lots of stray animals, pretty sunsets, and cute baked goods. he's even got a few rare photos of barbatos on there looking slightly relaxed. levi made luke's accounts private when he first set them up bc he's been on too many weird corners of the internet to let that innocent angel be corrupted.

speaking of levi, he'd post a LOT about his dorky (affectionate) interests. he's one of the few that would post every day on multiple platforms. there's a pretty small chance you care about each and every thing he posts but regardless, it's nice to see him so enthused and happy.

mutuals bc i'd feel bad unfollowing: belphie, lucifer, diavolo, mephisto

belphie's accounts have all been inactive for YEARS, but if you unfollow him he does get offended. he found out asmo unfollowed him at some point and started an argument about it.

lucifer's social media is also rarely active, but anything he posts is usually at least a little important, so if you unfollow he'll know and get on you about missing it.

diavolo's account is quite literally all royal bullshit and official devildom information, but seeing as he doesn't have personal social media, he still values his friends following him. if you unfollow, his feelings will be hurt, but he'll stay quiet about it.

mephisto's account literally just posts the same lame shit that the RAD newspaper account does, word-for-word and post-for-post. unfollowing either of these accounts comes off as a slight from the feeble human that doesn't care about the devildom. his complaining is always so loud.

not following + no plans to follow: beel, raphael

beel posts exclusively about food. he doesn't run a food-themed account, that's literally all he finds interesting enough to post. he rates all of his meals after he finishes, too. fun, but not my type of content.

something in my heart of hearts tells me raphael's photos are all blurry. like he just thinks his D.D.D. camera is bad when really he won't focus the damn camera before taking a pic.

blocked, reported, cyberbullied for good measure: solomon

i KNOW this man is a menace on social media. he probably eggs on conspiracy theorists and purposely spreads misinformation. it's funny at first until following him starts filling your feed with the crazy bullshit he likes/retweets. he is playing devil's advocate on social media for the dumbest, most argumentative people online bc he thinks it's funny and it's quite literally going to drive you insane if you don't block him. when he's causing problems, he's posting stupid shit. he'd be the type to unironically post the "saw a snail today. effervescent" shit

[raineandsky]

#47

The agency is a place of horror, in the villain’s opinion—pristine white walls, blaring overhead lights, perfectly symmetrical tiled flooring. The place is, quite frankly, a minimalist nightmare.

So it’s a shame that the villain has to sit here, bored out of their mind, in the place they hate the most, with the person they hate the most.

“Oh, no, turn back the way you were facing.” The hero gestures slightly behind them with the tip of their pencil. A clipboard sits in their lap, well-loved and coated in pen marks. “The angle’s off.”

“I don’t know why you couldn’t just take a two second photo like everyone else,” the villain mutters with a scowl, adjusting uncomfortably in their cuffs, and the hero laughs like they’re joking.

“Because crime in the city is at an all-time-low and I’m bored.” The hero points a bit more violently with their pencil. “Now turn.”

They’re not allowed any goddamn dignity in this place, so they admit defeat and shift over slightly. The hero nods approvingly when they do, finally turning their gaze back down to paper in their hand, and the pair fall into silence. 

“You know I’m gonna be busting out, right?” the villain says after a moment. The quiet was nice until they figured out that the weird screeching noise downstairs was human voices. “I don’t really see the point in me being here.”

The hero hums in lazy acknowledgement. “I know, but catching you gives me something to do.” The pencil scratches down the page in waves, their eyes still resting on their masterpiece. “And you make for a good muse.”

Thank god their drawing is so interesting, or the hero would see the light blush staining the villain’s face. “I know I do,” they say in a vain attempt to save their quickly plummeting dignity. “I’m hot shit, everyone knows that.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty conventionally attractive. Makes for some good lines in a study.”

Why did they have to phrase it like that? “You can admit I’m hot, it’s okay. Everyone else does.”

“Everyone else lets visual aesthetic blind them to their sense of morality, but I don’t.” The hero’s gaze finally flits back up to them, the ghost of a smirk on their face. “You’re conventionally attractive. Take it or leave it.”

The villain scowls. “I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”

“It is in heroic terms.” The hero turns their clipboard around to show the criminal their drawing. “What do you think? Looks like you, right?”

The hero’s a damn good artist. It’s amazing. “It’s shit.”

Their answer only gets another laugh as the clipboard gets discarded on the desk. The hero gets to their feet with a stretch, motioning for the villain to do the same. “Let's get you to your cell so I can go on my lunch.”

The villain’s henchmen are probably nearby. A few minutes in a cell are nothing. “I hope your lunch tastes like dirt.”

The cell is just as grim as the villain remembers. The hero shoves them inside mercilessly, clunking the door shut behind them.

“Looking forward to chasing you down on your way out,” the hero says innocently. They glance down at their watch as it beeps rhythmically at them. “And for the record, I do think you’re hot.”

The villain makes a face somewhere between disbelief and flattered. “I thought you said I—”

“I’m on my lunch break.” They hold their watch up, reading exactly 13:00. “I can say what I want when I’m not on company time.”

“You follow the stupidest sets of rules like a dog,” the villain spits as the hero turns on their heel. “You have to admit you’re a little pathetic.”

“Your guys don’t usually take long to get here, right?” They’re already at the door, loitering on the threshold. “I’ll see you in, what, half an hour?”

“Fuck you.”

The hero laughs again. “You wish. Take the drawing on your way out, yeah?”

The villain very much intends to. They deserve it for the time out of their day, at least.