#but i did get some good stuff! might actually wear a dress this time

[walterdecourceys]

decided to actually go buy my homecoming outfit this year instead of getting it from my grandfather and it was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life i think

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[mamashenanigans]

When my head isn’t filled with “keephishandkeephishandkeephishand” on a loop, I actually think about more stuff from 407.

Someone on X pointed this out, but how wittle baby boy Yoichi is shown here…

Makes it seem like the people that AFO just killed had maybe beat him up. Of course, AFO is taking their metapowers away too, but it’s an interesting catch. And, yes, Yoichi is wearing fitted clothes while AFO walks around with something just wrapped around him.

You know how Yoichi still believed there was good in his brother because of the kindness of his “hand”?

Well, in case you missed it…

They were born apart with their hands already reaching out to each other. They are on their backs right now, so those are the same hands that are holding/being held.

This means…

AFO grabbed Yoichi and dragged him with him. What you’re seeing in that top panel is the water starting to overflow the river and rush past. AFO pulled Yoichi out of the water and on to their mother. He is also using the spike quirk for teeth and on his hand to grab onto their mother and pull them up. The bottom left panel is him biting into her dress as he pulls them out of the danger of the water. Yes, AFO saved Yoichi when they were fucking newborns. THIS is what Yoichi has a faint memory of. That was the kindness.

I know some people have been wondering if they’re fraternal or identical. This seems to suggest that they are in fact sharing the same umbilical cord. It’s rare for fraternal twins to have this. It’s crazy to think that Yoichi may have looked just like AFO if he had the same amount of nutrients. But I digress…

A very notable thing about AFO’s eyes: they are huge and creepy in feral/survivor mode. We’ve seen his eyes get like this as AFOTomura and when he goes into rage mode against All Might and now Bakugo.

Here, he is quite literally just walking down the street past the anti-meta people and presumably just heard them talk about killing metas. Once they take notice of him, he turns his head towards them and his eyes are huge like a startled animal.

He then proceeds to kill them and still has that feral look.

But now let me get to something pretty important…

We don’t see AFO actually smile until this panel

Once he has a dream of everyone living for his sake, like Yoichi, he is finally smiling. And continues to do so after this point.

Something really bothering me is that they must have named themselves including their surname. Shigaraki means “death tree” which fits in nicely as they were born “from death”. However, where did Yoichi get his name? AFO must have named him and Yoichi can mean “first gift”. So he named him that because Yoichi was QUITE LITERALLY the first thing AFO ever had. As for AFO…I don’t know if he would take the time to name himself. Yoichi only calls him big brother so he may have told Yoichi to just keep calling him that then decided to name himself after the Quirk he also named himself: All for One. Dude is really committed to the bit.

There’s one more thing I haven’t seen anyone touch on yet…

The hatred.

As you probably recall, Hawks has a talk with Best Jeanist over AFO’s lack of emotions and lack of hate. Why he has to use Tomura to get OFA.

406 explained why that is perfectly.

When he feels hatred, he is forced to remember WHEN HE WAS TOLD HE KILLED HIS BROTHER HOLY SHIT. It would also be possibly the first and only time he ever cried. Felt real grief. So, he never “feels” REAL hatred because that would mean having to confront this memory.

It’s fucking genius.

You’’re welcome.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

-

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

-

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

-

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

-

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

-

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

-

As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[starlightazriel]

bee 7

desc: best friends>lovers, azriel au (fem reader)

warnings: 18+, fluff, SMUT!!, fingering, raw dogg, oral, light bondage, blindfold, overstim, reader being a lil insecure, teeny tiny foot fetish (cmon we all know az is a freak freak), lil adolescent fluff , drug addiction, (was rereading and feel like i should add kat insinuating someone's on drugs bc they are skinny i know this isn't accurate she's just being a bitch to jab at az basically saying anyone else besides bee that az would be with would be a custy lol)

other parts can be found on my masterlist under azriel

wc: 7.9k

seven

Kat and Mor had both insisted this time, that I get ready at Kats house for my date with Azriel. Date. I had been going out of my mind with nerves since he asked me, rushing around to every store yesterday looking for the right thing to wear.

He hadn't changed his mind, which I had been afraid of... No, he had actually told me lastnight that he couldn't wait, he had said that just before I went over to Kats for the slumber party she had planned for the three of us since Mor was staying at her house. I had been a blushing mess when he stared me down in my pajamas in the hall before I left.

I still felt like I was in a dream... After wanting Az for so long I was just waiting for him to change his mind or something, it didn't feel real. "I think I might pass away," I muttered quietly as I stared back at my reflection in the mirror, yesterday, the long silky white dress had felt like a good idea, tonight... Not so much.

"You're going to be fine," Mor promised as she did some final touches on my hair, she looked drop dead gorgeous, I felt just plain and stupid next to her. It reminded me again that Azriel had too many options, why would he want me?

"You couldn't be more prepped you have nothing to be nervous about," Kat giggles softly, glancing over at us, she was still working on her makeup, clad in a skimpy black dress similar to Mors dark purple one. My cheeks reddened again, they had forced me to go get waxed bright and early, insisting that it was the best way to get ready for Azriel if I wanted to seal the deal and make him completely fall in love. I had questioned many of my decisions while I whimpered in pain when the woman at the spa had been ripping my pubes out.

The two of them together were a force to be reckoned with, because the wax was followed by a pedicure and a manicure and then a blowout from the hair salon across the street. I was already exhausted and the night hadn't even began. I had been telling them all day, that all of this was unnecessary that Az and I had known eachother for so long I didn't need to do all of this extra stuff to impress him. He already knew me. They insisted that this wasn't just for Azriel, it was for me, to help boost my confidence. I had tried to not take it as an insult, did I really come off as that insecure?

"I just- I don't know, I've been waiting for this for so long... And now I feel like I might just throw up," I breathed out pressing my hand to my stomach as I stared at myself in the mirror, I glanced at the clock again, and winced because Azriel would be here any moment. "I mean, have you guys even seen some of the women he goes for?! I'm like- I don't even know like the fucking pillsbury dough boy next to them. He's always going with supermodel looking women," I stared at my reflection again, letting out a heavy sigh.

"You're gorgeous Bee, shut it," Mor grins and fixes my hair one last time. "Plus," Kat tacks on after her, "They're only that skinny because they are sniffing and popping god knows what," Kat scrunched her nose a little with distaste. I looked down, I hated when they brought up Az's habits, or anything that related to them.

I clutched my little bag in my hand, feeling my phone buzz inside of it. My stomach flipped again and I swallowed hard, pulling my phone free from the little purse. im outside Short and sweet, typical Azriel. My stomach churned and twisted. "He's here?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'll see you guys there. Please don't watch us from the window," I grimaced, glancing out the window, my breath caught in my throat seeing Azriel leaning up against a black SUV, I figured Rhys must have got him a driver for tonight. He looked so, damn, good. He'd got a hair cut since last night, all his jewelry was on display, tanned skin gleaming in the setting sun, smoking of course, looked like a pre roll from here. My heart skipped a few beats in my chest, my stomach feeling like molten lava.

"I can't make any promises," Mor giggled softly, Kat along with her and I glanced back at the two of them who were a little too close for comfort. I briefly wondered if they had ever hooked up. Wouldn't have surprised me. I narrowed my eyes at their laughter, not finding anything funny.

"Okay I'll see you later," I repeat, my knees feeling weak as I left Kats apartment, into the warm evening air. Azriel's eyes were instantly on me, and he smiled, grinned actually as his eyes raked over my body, briefly settling on my nipples, the rings making them visible under the thin fabric of the dress, I had picked some heart ones out for tonight, I hoped Azriel would like them... If we even got that far.

I felt my face heating up, Az must be laughing at me in his head. I looked ridiculous, like I always did when Kat dressed me up like a doll.

"You look gorgeous," he was blushing now too, his throat bobbed slightly as he took my hand and pulled me in for a half hug, his large hand pressing into my lower back. I felt like I might pass out, like my knees might give out on me completely, they were already wobbling.

"So do you," I blurted, and the color on my cheeks deepened, causing him to let out a throaty laugh. It wasnt a lie, even though it sounded dumb. He was so damn beautiful, sexy, handsome... He looked like a tattooed god in the golden hour lighting.

"Do I?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I was starting to wonder how I was going to survive the night, it had been, what, a few minutes? And I was already soaking wet, my body absolutely begging for him. I wondered if he could see it in my eyes.

I could tell he was a little nervous or maybe as much as me, despite how cool he was playing it.

"You always do," I had the fight the urge to fan myself, I was getting hotter by the moment. He just shook his head, his hair shaking with the motion, still smiling down at me before he gestured to the door and opened it for me to get in the back seat. It was quite roomy, definitely one of Rhys' family cars, it was modified on the inside, the seats created an L shape in the back of the car. I took a seat in one of them, taking in the small space. My lips parted slightly in surprise at the bouquet of green apple blow pops that was resting on the other seat, a Chanel ribbon wrapped around them with a small box next to it. Okay, I was definitely melting now, it was so hot in here, or maybe it was just me.

Azriel smiled sheepishly at my expression as he got into the car, picking up the lollipop bouquet and the small jewelry box, his eyes looking shy, this was new, he was never shy. Mysterious, quiet, maybe even a little RBF, but he never looked shy. "I just wanted to say thank you, for coming with me," his voice was quiet as the car began rolling forward now that we were both settled into the back seat. "And happy early birthday, I didnt forget," his lips twitched slightly as he extended the small box and lollipop bouquet. The fact that he remembered what we had first ever bonded over, it made my chest swell a little bit. Made me long for him even more. In so many more ways than just the physical.

"Az- you didnt have to-" my mouth felt so dry, I felt like I had lost the ability to speak. With everything going on recently, I myself had almost forgotten my twenty third birthday coming up next week.

"I wanted to," he pressed, leaning back as he waited, watching me expectantly. My fingers shook slightly as opened the box, a little breath escaping my lips at the sight of the little gold and pearl Chanel hoops that he had picked out for me. They looked expensive and it made my cheeks burn brighter. This definitely wasnt like Azriel, I couldnt remember a time he'd ever bought a woman jewelry. But he bought some for me. "They match your dress," he mused, and I felt his eyes raking over me again.

"Azriel- These are so pretty- I can't- They must have cost like at least three tattoos, I can't accept these-" I fumbled over my words, feeling naked under his gaze, he just shook his head, smiling a little bit. He looked, pleased.

"Let me put them on for you," he mumbled, his eyes boring into me as he leaned forward, so close, now. My breath hitched, his scent filling my nose, making my heart beat just a little bit faster. He brushed his finger over my neck as it travelled up to my ear, my toes curled at the feeling of his rough fingers against my soft skin. Carefully he used his other hand to hold the stud in place before popping the back off of my current earring. Azriel repeated the same motions on the other side, his tongue poking slightly between his lips in concentration. I watched his jaw flex slightly, my body felt so tense, my brain begged me for more, begged me to jump on him in the back of Rhys' family car.

He carefully took out one of the hoops and his fingers brushed my skin again as he clicked the first one on, being careful not to pinch my skin. I shivered a little bit feeling goosebumps rise on every inch of my body, Azriel smirked, his eyes meeting with mine before he carefully put the other earring on. Definitely going to pass out. It felt like my heart stopped every time our eyes met. "Just like how I imagined," he leans back to get a good look at me, licking his lips, heat pooled in my core, my toes curled against my will.

"Oh Az," I breathed out, hardly recognizing my reflection in his phone, he had pulled it out with the front camera facing me so I could see my new earrings. "You really shouldn't have," I breathed again, my cheeks were red, lips pinker than usual and puffy from how much I was biting them, my eyes were hazy with lust and everything else I felt for him. I was glowing a little bit, I looked... Nice. He cleared his throat, his eyes softening into something else besides just the lust that burned on the surface of both of our gazes, something deeper.

"But I did though," he said softly, and his eyes flicked down to my bouquet of green apple blow pops. "You better share later," he raised an eyebrow, smirking at me. "I didn't steal them this time I paid for those," he chuckled quietly. My heart warmed again at the memory. This was really happening, my Az... Taking me on a date. He was so charming this was the Azriel I knew, this was my Az.

"Of course I'll share with you Az, how couldn't I?" I laughed and squeezed the bouquet a little tighter, my heart felt so big, my chest felt so warm, I had never felt so whole. He smiled at me and just looked, savored every inch of me as if he too had been waiting for a while. Even though it wasnt nearly as long as I'd been waiting for him. I looked back at him, appreciating every inch of him, the few freckles that dusted his nose, making him look just slightly more boyish, his burning hazel eyes that could see right through me, his kissable lips, strong but still just soft enough jaw....

Something flashed in his eyes as if he remembered something. "Can I ask you something about Eris?" he says casually, but there was a certain edge I could feel in his tone. My stomach flipped slightly, and I leaned back.

"Sure," I nodded, nervously playing with the ribbon he had tied around my lollipop bouquet. I had no idea what to prepare for, had no clue what Az was about to ask, it had my stomach churning nervously.

"Did you.. Did Eris eat you out?" his tone was still even, question direct and forward as if he had every right to ask me that. My eyes widened at his bluntness. Jealousy?

"Azriel!" My cheeks blazed and I slapped his arm, my other hand tightly gripping my bouquet. He didnt say anything, only raised a brow expectantly still waiting for my answer, not a smile in sight. "No, he didnt-"

"Okay," he cuts me off there, smiling sheepishly at me now. "Ever since I walked in on you- Ive been obsessed with tasting you, I just had to know," he admits, licking his lips as if his mouth was watering at the thought. He had no shame, he wasnt embarrassed that he had been thinking about me like that, no, he was enjoying watching me squirm with every single confession.

My cheeks burned as I thought about him, thinking about tasting me. It had my tongue feeling heavy in my mouth, like it was weighing on the back of my throat, making it harder to breathe. Ive been obsessed with tasting you. The thought almost embarrassed me, Az wanted to taste me, so bad that he had been obsessed with the thought.

"You alright Bee?" his eyes were twinkling with amusement, and arousal. He was realizing his effect on me, how down bad I truly was for him.

"I just- Its hot in here-" And it was, my legs involuntarily squeezed together, Azriel didnt miss it.

"You have no idea what youre in for tonight Bee."

-

I didnt know how I had ended up here, a few celebratory glasses of champagne, admiring Azriels and some other artists works, a few hors d'oeuvres, and I was now on Azriels lap behind the shops booth.

I was a hot mess for sure, everyone in our group was giving us glances, maybe in disbelief. I didnt blame them, Azriels open PDA was almost alarming. We hadn't kissed yet, but I was on his lap, his large fingers were gripped tightly around my hips, and my body was practically buzzing with need for him. Covered in goosebumps, my pussy swollen and throbbing in the little white lace panties I had selected. At this point, after spending the entire night with Az, being on his arm all night like he promised, it was practically painful not to have him inside of me. Why weren't we going home yet? There had been fleeting, subtle touches all night, whispers in my ear that sent my toes curling in my high heels. Id wondered if he'd noticed that, he'd been stealing looks down at my freshly pedicured feet all night.

He was rock hard, I could feel his cock through his pants completely my thin dress not adding a thing to the barrier, I could feel him pressing against me, he felt so big. I was barely able to focus on anything else that was going on, the conversations they were having, that somehow Azriel was apart of. I didnt know how he was even able to engage. No one seemed to notice I hadn't said anything in ages, or if they did they didnt bring it to attention.

"I really am proud of you Az, this shits amazing for business," Rhys hadn't shut up about how pleased he was since the final voting had ended and the hosts had announced that they had won both categories Artist of the Year and Tattoo Parlor of the Year. Azriel was being modest, but they won because of him. Because of his talent.

"It was really nothing," he says casually, his voice was still low and gravelly like it had been all night, I wondered if it was because he wanted me as much as I wanted him. It sure felt like it. He snaked his arm around me, spreading his hand across my lower stomach and pulling me further onto him, my legs spread slightly with the movement, my back falling flush against his chest. I let my head tilt back onto his shoulder, savoring the feeling. The bulge of his cock brushed lightly against my aching pussy, just barely, enough to drive me more mad and I cursed the stupid dress for getting in the way of me feeling him more. Should have worn leggings.

"Youre being modest," Cass laughs and glances over, he blushed when he noticed the way that Az was holding me and he quickly looked away. I blushed too, maybe this really was too much for the setting we were in, I couldn't bring myself to get up. I feel Az shrug behind me, his hand still pressing into my stomach, it felt like he was burning a hole straight through my dress.

I don't even hear what Rhys says next because my senses are reduced to Azriels lips brushing against my earlobe, the feeling of his hot breath on my skin. "I have a surprise for you," he whispers into my ear, the feeling sends more heat settling between my thighs, so dizzy.

"What?" I manage, my brain feeling so foggy, it was like Azriel was the only thing I'd ever thought of, the world around practically didnt exist. He chuckled, the sound sent more shivers down my spine.

"I said," his other hand slid over the top of my thigh, gently rubbing through the thin fabric. I suppressed a moan, my eyelids involuntarily fluttering shut. "I have a surprise for you," he repeated, the feeling of his voice against my ear making me squirm in his lap. "Bee you gotta stop that," he hissed softly under his breath, his arm tightening, pressing me further into him as if to still me. "There's people around," he mutters, my eyes flutter open again as if remembering for the first time, I make eye contact with Mor first and then Kat, I grimace at both of them, because they were watching us, giggling like school girls. I knew I wasnt going to live this down, right now I didnt care, nothing could ruin my bliss.

"Can we please go now Az? Ive been soo patient," I turned my head slightly, his nose and lips brushed against my cheek, I fought the urge to grind my hips against him, and failed miserably when I imagined his mouth between my legs and his nose pressed against my clit. He cursed quietly under his breath and sighed, this had to be torturing him as much as it was me.

"Think we'll skip drinks," Az said casually and he stood up, pulling me to stand with him, my body still flush with his, my cheeks reddened as I felt everyones eyes on us. "Bees tired, gotta get her back, you don't mind Rhys, do you?"

Rhys eyes flashed with something I didnt recognize as he observed Az and I. I looked away, feeling mortified, because obviously with the way we had been all over each other all night... Everyone knew what we were really going to do. The thought sent nerves flipping my stomach, suddenly I regretted rushing him. "That's fine," Rhys smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with Cass who looked like he was holding his tongue. "You've done enough Az, you two should go enjoy your night,"

"Id hug you for being so damn good bro, but I don't want your little chub rubbing my leg," Cass snickered earning an initial glare from Azriel but it turned into a smirk. My cheeks burned, I wished I could fall into the floor.

"Yours might be thicker Cass, but mine will always be longer," Az shrugs, making Cassian laugh from his perch on the stool he was sitting on.

"You guys are disgusting," Mor shakes her head in disbelief. "Now I remember why I moved, no one wants to listen to a bunch of guys fighting over who's dick is bigger, y/n I suggest you take him away now before Rhys joins,"

"Mor everyone knows mines the biggest, I don't even bother arguing with them anymore," Rhys laughs and waves her off, cocky and arrogant as ever. My cheeks burned, I didn't bother to listen to her response.

Azriels hand found mine and interlaced our fingers as we bid our goodbyes to everyone, my chest swelled at the gesture. Az didnt forget to thank the hosts on the way out, I marveled at him, admiring how professional he could be, no one on the outside would ever know the demons he faced unless he let them.

"Thank you for that, Bee," he says when we are finally alone, the car was waiting just a little ways down, my hand felt slightly sweaty in his, my heart already pounding in my chest with anticipation for what was going to come. He squeezed a little, as if sensing my nerves, "I really think, with you on my arm," he blushed, as if his own words surprised him, he swallowed before finishing, "I could do anything." My cheeks blazed at his admittance, my stomach doing somersaults as he glanced over at me under his thick lashes, his eyes still hazy and lust filled, but soft too, like he finally returned those tender feelings I had for him for so long.

"Of-of course Az," it seemed like I hadn't been able to form a proper thought or sentence all night. Being with Azriel... It was mind numbing madness. I had never imagined I would be this much of a blubbering idiot. He didnt say anything else as he lead me back to the car we had arrived in.

"You didnt forget about your surprise did you?" he asks, leaning back into the back seat, Az had immediately pulled the partition when we got into the car which hadn't done anything to settle my nerves.

"Azriel where are we even going?" I ask softly, glancing out the window, we definitely weren't headed back to the apartment.

"You'll see," he said softly and leaned over, closer to me, I turned to face him, our lips nearly brushing. "I've been waiting to do this all night," he gently slides his thumb over my jaw before curling his fingers into the hair on the nape of my neck, my core was molten, my entire body screaming for him.

"What are you doing to me?" I breathe out dumbly, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest. He pulls me closer, our foreheads resting gently on one another's now.

"I've been asking myself the same thing about you since I walked in on you in my room," his lips brushed mine as he spoke, his eyes burning into mine, we were so so close. My heart pounded against my chest, "I can't stop thinking about you Bee, every time I get myself off I think about you. I'm going crazy, I can't stop thinking about what your little pussy tastes like, about making you moan for me," my breath hitches slightly at his vulgarity, his voice was low and gravelly making my toes curl. He finally pressed his lips against mine, his tongue slipping past my lips. I kissed him back my head spinning with the feeling, finally, finally he was kissing me again.

"Az I've wanted this for so long," I hum against him, feeling delerious, I let out a soft involuntary whimper as his rough, scarred fingers slowly slide over the back of my ankle and up my calf.

"I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me this whole time Bee," he whispers, trailing kisses down my neck, my eyes threatened to roll back into my head. "Should have been us from the very beginning," he slowly kisses over the tops of my breasts, his fingers tightening gently around the back of my knee. "I should have taken your virginity, been your first boyfriend, I should have showed all of this to you a long time ago," he breathed out, sliding his hand to the front of my knee and up the top of my thigh toward the place I needed him most. I exhaled, tilting my head back, my back arched slightly as his fingers brushed against my clothed cunt. "I'm gonna make up for all that though," he mumbled gruffly before slipping my panties aside, I gasped at the feeling of Azriels scarred fingers on my soft bare pussy lips for the first time.

"Az," I whimpered quietly, my hips grinding against his fingers, he cursed under his breath, slowly sliding his middle finger into my opening. I gasped, gripping his shoulders, "Azriel," I breathed out again as he wiggled his long finger inside of me in a come hither motion, hitting my g spot over and over.

"Fuck you're soaking for me," he breathed out, sucking the skin over my collar bone lightly, the palm of his hand ground against my clit as he expertly finger fucked me without even pulling his fingers in and out. My dress was pushed up past my knees, my breathing heavy and ragged as I held onto him, every bump or crack in the road that the car hit made me moan harder. He didn't stop until I came, cursing quietly under his breath as my body shook lightly. He had already made me cum more than anyone else I had to ever been with, and we hadn't even fucked yet. I tried to ignore that his skills probably came from lots of practice. "We're here baby," he slowly pulled his finger from my pussy, a whoosh of breath left my lips at the new feeling of emptiness. My head spun as he sucked my release off of his finger, his eyes closing as he did, humming softly as if he had been waiting so long to know what I tasted like. It made my mouth go dry, made the breath catch in my throat.

-

So damn good. She tasted so good. Azriel couldn't wait to get her upstairs, bury his face between her legs and fully taste her. He opens his eyes again, licking his lips at the sight of her after orgasm hazy eyes, wet lips, flushed cheeks and chest. "Come on," he nods toward the car door.

"Where are we?" she manages to get out scrambling to straighten her dress out, her brows crinkling together slightly, it made his heart swell, made him smile.

"I told you I had a surprise," he shrugged easily and opened the door to the car and held it for her, watching with endearment as she collected the bouquet of lollipops he had gifted her and the small box that had contained the earrings. He smiled as her eyes widened looking up at the tall fancy hotel before them, despite how late it was, a doorman opened the door to let them inside. She waited in a cushy lobby chair while he checked in, and he couldn't help but keep glancing back at her.

"Az this is ridiculous seriously. This room must have cost a fortune," she says as they finally entered the room on one of the top floors of the hotel. He let the door shut behind them, his eyes scanning over the room, a king bed, amazing view, a bottle of champagne on ice in a golden colored bucket, two glasses beside it.

"Rhys asked me what I wanted yesterday for all of my hard work on the event, think he felt bad cus he kinda laid into me the other day. I think he expected me to ask for money... I asked him to get me a room in the best hotel in the city for tonight," he smiled shyly, his cheeks growing red with the admittance. It was embarrassing hearing it out loud, he didn't know how to feel about his behavior. All of this was new for him, and with Bee? He didn't have time to process anyway, it all felt too good, too right, being here with her.

"Az... You didn't have to do that," she twists to look at him, her eyes glowing, her cheeks just as red as his. Azriel knew she wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, not for years at least, maybe once... Long ago, when his family was still around.

"I wanted to. I wanted tonight to be.. Special," he almost couldn't believe himself, couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He couldn't recall ever doing anything like this for anyone. He had never really been one for romantics. Lately he was starting to reconsider it, the look on Bees face made him feel so whole inside. And she deserved this, she deserved a night to be spoiled and shown that he did see her now too. He saw everything, saw the way she had been there for him all those years, stood by him, no matter how many fucked up phases he went through she was always there.

"It already was Azriel," she breaths, twisting around to look at him again, she was standing in front of the bed now, her eyes were darting around nervously, her arms wrapping self consciously around her stomach. "You didn't have to waste your bonus on this," she mumbled softly, her cheeks still so pink as if she thought she wasn't worth any of this, little did she know she was worth so much more.

"Don't be shy now Bee, it's not so long ago you were a moaning mess in my bed, I've already seen you naked," his eyes travel over her, stopping for a moment at the tops of her breasts, pushed up by her arms against her body. His cock was aching, so fucking hard... It had been all night, he had been adjusting himself all night to hide his massive hard on. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, his head eyes never leaving her, blazing into her skin.

"But Az I-" she starts, he could see her breath catch, her chest rising and falling. Goosebumps already covered her skin and he hadn't even touched her yet since they entered the room.

"Shh.. Strip," he commands softly unzipping his pants because he couldn't take how tight they had gotten any longer, his cock had been aching all night. He sight with relief at the release of tension, but still didn't pull his pants fully off, waiting and watching her. She blinked, exhaling softly, her arms slowly dropped to her sides but she didn't move to slip her dress off. How could she not see how beautiful she was? "Go on," he coaxed, his jaw flexing as his eyes raked over every inch of her.

"Az... I'm like- I can't just... Strip," her voice caught in her throat and he smiled at her, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her.

"I'm going to teach you that you can do a lot of things you think you can't do," his voice was husky, laced with desire as he took a step toward her. "Go on Bee, take it off for me," he breathed out and she blushed deeper, closing her eyes and leaning down to pull her dress completely over her head. Azriel let out a shaky breath at the sight before him, only her heels and her white lace panties remained, the tight fabric showing the outline of her cunt. His eyes rest on her nipples then, his mouth watering at the sight of her nipple rings cute little hearts around her perfect little nipples. She tries to cover herself again, he sucks his teeth, shaking his head at her and closes the distance between them holding her arms at her sides so she couldn't cover her body.

"You look so good to me," he assured, knowing how she could be, the phase she went through that one summer where she wouldn't eat. He had picked up the pieces, taken care of her like she had done for him so many times.

She blushed again, looking down at her feet, he followed her gaze, cute little french tips that he loved so much. His cock throbbed again at the sight. He grabbed her chin, tilting her head up so her eyes would meet his. "I mean it," his eyes bore into hers, he let his emotions show, let his walls come down a bit. He wanted her to know how much she truly meant to him. "You are everything Bee," he slides his hands over her ass and the bottom of her thighs scooping her up and placing her on the bed, he let out a heavy breath at the sight of her on the bed.

"Az-" she breathed, her eyes widening as she looked up at him, his eyes were dark with lust as he untied the ribbon around her blow pop bouquet, the lollipops all falling onto the table with thudding sounds.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his gaze not wavering as he looked down into her eyes past them, as if he was looking into her soul. It made her body wriggle beneath him.

"Of course I do Az but-" she swallowed her words, her breath catching in her throat as he put one of the sleeping masks that had been provided by the hotel over her eyes covering her world in darkness. "Oh.." she breathed out softly, her back slightly arching as he slid his hands up her arms and tied her wrists with the ribbon, tying them to the headboard of the bed. He figured she couldn't be worried about what her body looked like if she couldn't see. He stood back for a minute, marveling at her, watching her breasts rise and fall with each breath admiring the high heels she was still wearing and her wet cunt, soaking through the fabric of her panties.

All tied up and blind folded in front of him... He had never seen anything so beautiful. Her arms were pinned above her head, her chest on full display for him. He let out a throaty long breath before he knelt on the bed in front of her, carefully undoing the straps on her heels, his rough fingers brushing the soft skin on her ankles, as he pulled them off and discarded them on the floor one by one, she whimpered, pulling her hands against the restraint. "I really have been so blind," he muttered before pressing a kiss to the sole of her foot, her back arched again, a small whimper escaping her lips.

"Az.. Please.." She begged, her voice so needy and desperate it was driving him even more crazy. "I've been wanting this for so long..." she whimpered, the sound made his cock twitch in his pants.

He placed more open mouthed kisses on the soles of her feet, and the insides of her ankles humming softly to himself at the sweet smell of her skin. She was practically shaking already, he could see how wet she was already, her juices soaking through her panties. "Need to get those off," he mumbled softly to himself reaching forward and gripping her panties, tugging them down her legs, his fingers sliding all the way down the outsides of her legs as he pulled them off.

Why had he denied them both this for so long? He couldn't understand how he had been so blind.

An involuntary groan left his lips at the sight of her bare cunt, freshly waxed, smooth, glistening wet with her arousal and her first release in the car. "You are perfect," he breathed before he finally gave in to his desire to taste her, no matter how much he wanted to keep teasing her he had to have his mouth on her now.

He placed an open mouthed kiss over her nipple, sucking her pierced flesh into his mouth, making her moan again and causing him to grind his achingly hard cock in his pants against the bed.

"You've got nothing to be insecure about, you're so fucking perfect," he moans softly, wrapping his mouth around her other pierced nipple. "You're so lucky you got these done before you were mine," he muttered against her skin, sending shivers up her spine.

"Yours?" she asks breathlessly, her lips parting in surprise, he wished he could see her eyes, wished she could see the way he was looking at her. He figured it was probably better she didn't anyway. Even if they were kind of past the point of going back now.

"Yes, mine," he mumbles, pressing more soft kisses to her skin, between her breasts and down the middle of her stomach to her belly button. "All mine," he didn't have time to think about whether or not he would regret any of it later. He just needed her to know how he felt about her, how every touch and kiss made him want to claim her even more.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that for so long," she breathed, and he could see the bottom of her cheeks redden under the sleeping mask at her confession. His chest tightened slightly, he just hoped he could live up to her expectations. To whatever standards she held for a relationship. He figured giving up his event bonus was a good start, he wouldn't think about how much cocaine he could have bought with the cash Rhys must have spent on this room. It didn't even matter, the look on Bees face when she'd seen the view had made it so worth it.

"Now I'll show you," he grunted quietly, pressing another wet kiss just below her belly button. She shivered again and he couldn't help himself, he placed his hand on her inner thigh, spreading gently and he slowly rubbed his thumb on the outside of her dripping wet cunt, his rough skin gliding easily.

She whimpered, pleaded, begged him for more.

He was slow, gentle as he licked up and down between her folds, weaving his tongue in and out.

-

It was almost blinding, the feeling of Azriels lips and tongue on my throbbing swollen pussy was making stars dance in my eyes. With every suck, lick, flick of his tongue my hips rotated, ground against his tongue, I tugged, trying to get my hands free so I could run my fingers through his tousled hair, pull his face onto my pussy, wrap my legs around his head. The ribbon didn't budge, the more I fought it only made my wrists ache worse, I barely noticed it as my pussy pulsed with each mini orgasm that shuttered through my body.

I didn't know how long it had been. I couldn't see the clock with my sight cut off from the sleeping mask. The darkness only seemed to make me feel everything else so much more. I needed his cock, I needed it so fucking bad. I needed to feel him fill me up, my pussy ached for him, I felt like I had never needed anything more in my life.

I didn't know it was possible for a man to make me feel like this. Of course. Of course it was Az. I broke out in another soft cry, my hips trying to pull away from his relentless licks and sucks, my clit was so damn sensitive. Orgasm after orgasm, I was about to start begging him to stop, it felt too good, I almost couldn't take it anymore.

"I need your cock," I whined again, pulling relentlessly at the ribbons biting into my wrists. Az had tied them tight enough they wouldn't budge. I wasn't even surprised anymore at the lack of shyness, the total lack of self control that I now had underneath his absolute trance.

"Be patient," he chuckled softly against me, the vibration of it sending another soft whimper through my body, he made little circles with his tongue, sending me writhing again he held me still flicking his tongue on the sensitive skin between my cunt and my ass.

It felt like it had been hours that he had been eating my pussy. Realistically it had probably been more like forty five minutes, but I had no clue with this damn blind fold on. My body was shaking, weak, spent, and he hadn't even started fucking me yet. Azriel had been talking me through every single orgasm, big and small. 'Good girl,' 'Cum for me,' 'Look at that pretty little cunt leaking for me.' His voice had been so low and gravelly each time, that husky tone that was new to me and definitely this hungry, lust filled Azriel was my new favorite version.

"I can't be patient anymore Az, please, let me see you," I begged, my legs kicking slightly, as I exercised any freedom I still had.

"You have been a good girl so far, keep it up and I might untie you too," he chuckles lowly, slipping the sleeping mask off of my eyes, they were already open, wide open, I let out another whimper at the sight of him. So gorgeous my heart almost stopped, Azriel...

My Azriel. Mine.

His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly puffy from how he had been eating me up for so long, his nose and his cheeks still glistening with me, his hair was a mess, falling over his eyes a little bit. His eyes. They were so dark with desire his normally hazel eyes almost looked black, I knew he needed me as much as I needed him, my stomach churned, heat pooling at the base of my belly all over again.

"Az please I need you," I repeated another small whimper leaving my lips, I couldn't believe I had been reduced to begging. I'd have time to be embarrassed, right now, I didn't care about anything besides him and I. Finally knowing what it felt like for him to fuck me after all the years I'd fucked myself and pictured his face, his hands, his shirtless body by the pool.

"Oh fuck baby," he groaned quietly, finally tugging off the rest of his clothes, his hard tanned cock slapped his stomach, precum leaking deliciously from his tip. I whimpered at the sight of him, tugging at my restraints again, the ribbon was starting to burn, it felt like it was cutting my skin, I knew it would bother me later but now I didn't have a care in the world.

He untied me as if he knew it must be starting to hurt, or maybe my wrists were turning red, I didn't know because he wrapped his large hand around both of my wrists, replacing the ribbon with them, pinning me to the bed. He held my hands so I couldn't put my hands on him, I desperately wanted to, knowing Az he wanted to be in control.

My back arched as he used his free hand to rub the tip of his cock slowly up and down my opening, the anticipation made my legs shake.

"Mm gonna fuck you raw baby that's my pussy," he gently slaps his cock against my cunt, making me cry out, my body flinching.

Finally, he slowly pushed into me, every inch making me melt deeper into the bed, my body falling into a blissful state. "Oh Az," I breathed out against his lips when our bodies finally connected completely. Our eyes met, and each thrust felt like him telling me how much he loved me, how much he needed me, appreciated me for standing by him.

I didn't hold back, I let my voice ring out, calling his name as he fucked me into absolute oblivion. He was panting over me, little beads of sweat forming on his brow as he concentrated.

"Mm you're so fucking tight," his gravelly voice slurred, his eyes burning into mine as he slammed his cock into me over and over.

"Az yes," I moaned loudly, my entire body shaking with another mind numbing orgasm, my toes curled, throat felt completely dry as I moaned again. Tears of pleasure welled up in the corners of my eyes as I came again on his cock.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and he came inside me. I didn't care about that either, I instantly scratched and clawed at his back when he finally let my hands free, trying to pull him closer, deeper as he came.

I lifted my eyes, staring into his as he rode out his own orgasm, my lids felt so heavy with the exhaustion of our activities, I could have fell asleep right there when he finally stilled, his forehead resting on mine.

I had never known sex could be like this. So blissful. So intimate. I felt like I knew Azriel on another level... And I knew I would remember this night for the rest of my life.

"I-I-" Azriel started, his face flushed as our eyes burned into each others and he opened his mouth again, I held my breath, my heart felt like it was standing still, listening with me. "I... I'm glad we did this, thank you for coming out with me," he breathed, my cheeks warmed, I knew he was going to say something else and held it back.

We had said it before, told each other that we loved each other, for me it had always meant something more.

"I love you Bee, happy birthday," my heart stopped as he grinned at me like he always did, I had just blown out the seventeen candles on my birthday cake. Our friends surrounded us, my cheeks reddened when I noticed Rhys watching us.

"Love you too Az," I breathed my heart feeling like it would leap out of my chest. I wished I had the courage to tell him. Wished I had the courage to say how much I loved him as more than a friend, how much he truly meant to me.

He gave me a wrapped squishy package and I tore the paper open, my heart nearly stopping as I held the hoodie up in the air.

He made it, I could tell, it was black with bits of fabric sewn onto it to make a bee. And a bees shadow. My stomach churned, my cheeks warming again.

"Az I love it so much," my breath felt like it was caught in my throat.

"I'm glad you like it, happy seventeenth," he smiled sheepishly and turned back around toward some girl Cassian had brought. My chest tightened.

Maybe someday I would get the courage to tell him.

-

a/n: IM SVCREAMING AND CRYINF AND DROOLING

taglist: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 2

Part 1

Eddie hadn't forgotten about Steve the next day. Far from it. But his early morning thoughts had been occupied with getting up in time and going through his morning routine. It wasn't until he got dressed and put his jacket on, the same one from yesterday, that he was hit with the remnants of Steve's scent. He lifted it to his nose and took a deep breath.

His number was still in the pocket. Would texting him now seem desperate? Eddie took another breath. Fuck appearances. He had to see him again.

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

Steve had been prepared to chalk up last night to a fever dream. Or even if it was somehow real, that Eddie wouldn't call or text. Or even if he did, it wouldn't be until weeks or months later when he remembered the pathetic omega he'd met one rainy night.

And then he checked his phone on his lunch break and saw that he had a few messages. All from an unknown number.

'hey' 'it's me' 'Eddie' 'that guy you met last night?' 'I was thinking that i could maybe take you out to dinner again?'

Steve beamed so hard anyone looking might think he was insane. How cool should he play it? Maybe he should wait until he got off of work. Would it be better to call? By the looks of the texts, Eddie seemed really into him. Would Steve be able to string him along for longer?

The moment the thought passed through it was gone. He had woken up this morning, yearning for Eddie's scent. If he got close to him again, there was no way that he could make him wait.

Steve told him that he was free any time.

It probably came off as desperate but he didn't care. He wanted Eddie and wanted to be wanted by him. He couldn't afford to play it cool.

Three days later, Steve was standing outside of a nice restaurant. Eddie had sent the location and Steve dressed in the best clothes he owned. Thankfully he didn't have much of a reason to wear them, so they looked fresh and he went the extra mile to iron them. It was a nice collared shirt in blue and some khaki pants. A car drove up and Eddie came out of it, tossing the keys to a valet.

Eddie had offered to pick him up from his apartment but Steve refused for some reason. It felt like a dignity thing.

"Hey there, handsome", Eddie grinned. He had a red button down over black slacks and that leather jacket again. Steve needed to bury his face in it, in Eddie.

Steve got part of his wish when Eddie slung an around his waist and led him inside. He refrained from turning his head to dip his nose into it and drown himself in Eddie. They sat down and a waiter was with them right away for their drink orders. The waiter asked about wine as Steve looked at the menu.

"Hmm, whatever's red and sweet, my good man", Eddie said.

"We have a nice Cabernet, if you would like."

Eddie looked like he was about to agree when Steve spoke up. "Eddie, what are you eating?"

The alpha glanced at the menu before pushing air out of his mouth. "Probably a steak, beautiful. I'm actually not all that picky."

"We'll take a Caremenare", Steve said. "One from Bordeaux if you have one, if not anything on from southern France is fine."

Eddie gave Steve an appraising look as the waiter walked off to get their drinks. He let out a low whistle and then Steve stiffened.

"You know your stuff."

"I uh, yeah", Steve cleared his throat. "This seems like a real classy joint. Normally a server will ask what you plan on dining on before giving a wine suggestion."

"Ah, so he thought I was some bum who would've been happy drinking some cooking sherry?"

"Basically." Steve hadn't meant to show off like that. It just came out.

Eddie didn't look put off though. If anything, he looked impressed.

"You know, I'm not hard to please. I'm the type to drink whatever they put in front of me. Unless it's vodka." Eddie stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"I figured a rock star would have more refined tastes", Steve said.

"Oh I think I've got great tastes", Eddie said, licking a canine.

Steve had been looking at the menu, about to ask what he meant he saw the look Eddie was giving him. He quickly snapped the menu back up to cover his face and how warm it felt. Steve was no stranger to blatant flirting. He'd frequently laid it on thick himself. But knowing who Eddie was and how they'd met put an extra layer on it.

Did Eddie like him for himself? Or because he seemed easy? They started talking, the conversation now about traveling. Eddie was telling him of a particularly wild night in Italy and Steve was halfway in thought.

Would he feel different if Eddie was just a normal alpha? Or was it the fact that Eddie knew he was half the way to destitute that made Steve hesitant? Above all, Steve just didn't know if Eddie respected him or if he felt sorry for him. Eddie hadn't ever said anything condescending about him or omegas in general though. He'd never made Steve feel lower than him. He made sure he was comfortable with rides and being paid for before doing so.

Steve remembered what his best friend told him before abandoning him (getting her dream job) across the country. Basically, waste not, want not, but applying it to everything. If Eddie wanted to take him out and buy him meals and drinks, who was Steve to deny him? And if he wanted something sweet after, well Steve wouldn't be upset.

"Wait, you tried sneaking into the catacombs? You know it's a tourist site? You can just get a guide and go in", Steve said.

"Yeah, well Jeff had this bright idea of going in without permission, cause you know, rebellion is totally more metal than just hiring a tour guide, and going at like 2 am because that's the 'best time'", Eddie did air quotes and rolled his eyes. "And also tried to get into more restricted areas."

"Lemme guess, Jeff's a free spirited explorer?"

"I like adventure as much as the next guy, but I also like seeing the sky", Eddie said. "And Gareth's worse. Dude froze solid the moment we got down there. Hell of a time to learn he's got claustrophobia."

Their orders were taken and Eddie watched probably with a bit too much interest as Steve ate. He was enjoying this ritzy fare as much as he did the bar and local restaurant from before. Maybe Steve was the type to fit in anywhere. Eddie wanted to give him more. He'd seen some of the couples around them. People with clearly money to spare and they lavished it on the beauty dining with them. Gilded omegas. Kept omegas.

"I just wanted to, I don't know, take care of him", Eddie had lamented to his band mates while on a Zoom call.

"What, like a puppy?", Grant asked while in the middle of doing laundry.

"No! Yes? Like, ugggh", Eddie ran his hands down his face. "I know how this is gonna sound. Don't judge me."

"Holy shit", Gareth paused in his gaming to look at Eddie's face on one of his screens. "Dudes, I think it's finally happening."

"No fucking way", Jeff said.

Eddie turned around in his chair, trying to turn his back to them but he went to hard and did a 360 instead.

"Eddie, do you wanna be his-"

"Please don't say it out loud", Eddie covered his face with his hands.

"He does", Jeff said. "He wants to be a sugar daddy."

"This guy's gotta be hot. You got pics?", Grant asked.

"No one's that hot", Gareth said. "Chrissy was that hot and you still didn't-"

"Alright, forget I said anything. This is supposed to be a brainstorming sesh", Eddie quickly changed the subject.

Eddie wanted Steve to be his. But he didn't just want to date him. He wanted to spoil him, take him on exotic vacations, show him off, have Steve lie in bed without a care outside of being Eddie's baby.

But he couldn't just ask that, could he? That was probably one aspect of celebrity life Eddie, nor any of the other guys really knew too well. Getting a date? Easy. Getting someone like this? Would Steve even want to do that? He probably had his own goals and aspirations that went beyond being some guy's plaything. God though, Eddie would treat him so right. Steve really wouldn't want for anything.

"So, I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but how does a uh, fine vintage such as yourself find him single?"

"'Fine vintage'? Are you calling me old?", Steve asked with mock offense.

"Well you wear it very nicely", Eddie quipped back.

"For the record, I'm not chronically single. I've just been pretty busy lately. Had a few quick lays, but nothing serious for a while."

"How about somethingggg not serious buuut pretty exclusive?", Eddie asked. He leaned a little closer to Steve and was able to smell the increased interest. Good.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you, me, on a French beach in about a month. You could really show off that wino talent."

Steve snickered and moved a little closer to Eddie. "Well you can start with not calling me a 'wino'. And if you really want me to show off, you'll have to take my to Italy."

Eddie put an arm around Steve. "That can be arranged." He started to kiss his neck and let out a soft growl at the way Steve melted under his lips. His hand found Steve's thigh and gave it a squeeze.

Steve hummed and turned his head to kiss Eddie's cheek, then grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. He gave Eddie's lips a rather chaste kiss but then whispered against them.

"Take me to your place."

dont @ me on the wine stuff i literally drank a $7 bottle of vermouth yesterday and enjoyed it clearly i am not an expert.

Part 3

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario

Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.

For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)

Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.

Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?

That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.

Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.

At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.

He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.

I’m happy I’ve met you.

Thank you for being here.

Good night and have pleasant dreams.

You are stronger than you think, Angel.

I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.

You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.

You’re doing great.

Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.

Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@tired-of-life-86

@nixie-writes

@frompeach

@riddle-simp

@likesugarandcyanide

@witch-of-the-writing-desk

@22carolina08

@angel-tsugikuni-kamukura

@justamegafan

@saltyfruitbat

@lanxianschoenheit

@trecllllllll

@vikkirosko

@imperfectbloodmoon

@theunknowntravel3r

@thatstonedwriter

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@doc-tooth

[sooniebby]

HEYYYY SWEETHEART 🫶🏼🫶🏼 i have this idea about yubin...😩😩 soooo reader at yubin house because they having a sleepover together. anyways yubin was busy buying snacks and he thought reader wouldn't cook so when he get back home, reader greet him while he wearing an apron like housewife greet their husband.. how yubin will react?.. i have two things in mind. its either yubin get excited and hide it or he just fuck reader on the table?.. (with the apron on) i don't know... 😋😋

anyways have a good day/night sweetheart 🙇🏽🙇🏽

-🦈

ఌ 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count › 1.3k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › feminization, dumbification, light praise

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Yubin was excited. He had been able to convince (Name) to stay at his house for the night after they finished their homework.

He was lucky that it was Saturday tomorrow. The bag of ingredients he got to make tteokbokki bounced as he skipped around in excitement.

Yubin had a semi decent plan. Flex his semi decent cooking skills and get (Name) into bed.

And basically have sex but he’d take cuddling tonight as well.

A mischievous smirk was on his lips as he unlocked the door to his house and stepped inside, taking off his shoes. “Hyung?”

“Yubin!”

Yubin wanted to kill himself. Coming from the kitchen was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. God, he’d never get tired of seeing (Name) as if it was still the first time.

(Name) was dressed in his pajamas but had an apron on. Yubin’s mother’s apron. It was a bit tight on (Name) but only really set to push up his boobs.

Honestly, with the way (Name) was standing in front of him, it…

It was like (Name) was his very own housewife.

Yubin felt himself choke on his own spit. (Name) looked a bit disturbed at this but could only watch as Yubin forced a tight smile.

“You should’ve told me you could cook… I wouldn’t have bought stuff to make tteokbokki.”

“We can use it for dinner tomorrow,” (Name) smiled, reaching over to take the bags from Yubin.

“No! I can carry it for my wife!”

Oh.

Yubin and (Name) stared at each other for a moment, a definite silence taking over. Ah, Yubin should really learn to shut his fucking mouth sometimes.

But he will silently congratulate himself on making (Name) look embarrassed. It was something he took pleasure in.

“Okay,” (Name) muttered. “I need to go check on the stew…” he quickly walked away.

Yubin wanted to kill himself but decided he’d do that later. He dejectedly joined (Name) in the kitchen as he began to put away the stuff he bought.

The only sound accompanying them was the light hum of the television that was still on in the living room. Yubin honestly hoped he didn’t push (Name) too hard.

He was ready to apologize until (Name) glanced back at him with a shy expression.

“Go sit down. I’ll serve you your dinner…”

Yubin paused but did as he was told, walking over to the dinning room and sitting down. He was trying to think if (Name) was actually about to act like a housewife or if he just misheard him.

Turns out he didn’t when (Name) came over with his bowl and a soda from the fridge. Yubin couldn’t help the boner he had.

His crush was acting like a cute housewife. He actually served him his food. Was he dreaming?

This couldn’t be real life! (Name) came back with his own bowl and soda, sitting down from across Yubin. The dinning table was small, usually only having Yubin and his mother during meals.

“Thank you,” Yubin muttered, honestly shocked someone as… less academically inclined like (Name) could cook something that smelled so nice.

(Name) simply hummed and began to eat, not looking at Yubin at all. The two sat in silence as they ate, glancing at the other form time to time.

Yubin was about to just let it continue like that until he felt that his boned needed some attention.

Might as well get it from the man who sucked it twice.

“(Name), who taught you how to cook?” He’ll start slow, make sure to get the other horny before just pulling out his cock.

“Oh, my dad. Is it good…?”

“It’s in close competition with my mom’s,” Yubin joked, enjoying the bashful smile he got. “Did you… like it when I called you my house wife?”

(Name) blush, “what?! No way!”

“But you’re still wearing the apron…”

“I…”

“C’mere.”

(Name) bit his lip but did as he was told, walking over to where Yubin sat. Yubin grinned, happy with himself at how easily (Name) bend to his commands.

Yubin reached out and grasped (Name)’s ass, gently kneading it as he looked up at his crush with pouty lips. “Can I fuck my beautiful housewife?”

(Name) gasped at the title. He hated how he wanted Yubin to keep calling him that. Honestly, he kept dreaming of being Yubin’s actual housewife.

Waiting at home for his husband while he cooked and cleaned. Took care of the house and maybe even children…

Oh, he was certainly going insane.

“You may…” (Name) whispered, gasping as Yubin quickly stood up and pushed him to lay on the table.

“Thank you for the meal, Hyungie~!” Yubin grinned as he pulled off (Name)’s bottoms, getting full access to his hole.

They didn’t have any sort of lube so Yubin knew he had to improvise. He kneeled down and made his mouth level with the new territory in front of him.

He gripped (Name)’s muscular thighs tightly as he went straight in, lapping at his hole as the man beneath him screeched out in shock.

(Name) didn’t know how to feel. It felt dirty but the tongue inside of him was giving him a new type of pleasure. He’d never put anything in his asshole.

Yet here Yubin was, easily easing his tongue in and out as if he had done it before. Pathetic moans left (Name)’s lips as his back arched off the table, his legs twitching in Yubin’s hold.

Yubin ate as if he was a starved man. And honestly he felt as if he was. His first time getting to truly taste his (Name). His housewife. And it tasted good.

The noises that left his lover was honestly a bonus that caused him to go harder. Even if he didn’t get to use his cock inside, he’d die happily right now.

“Binnie…. oh!” (Name) cried, not knowing what that nickname did to Yubin.

It’d only been almost a month and he already had a nickname for him. Oh, he was truly whipped for this man. Yubin reached one finger down to begin slipping one in.

The hole was slick enough it which earned Yubin a mewl from (Name). Yubin pulled away from his now slicked hole and slipped in two more fingers beside the first. (Name) cried out at the odd feeling.

“We can wait,” Yubin said, a smile on his lips. “Our first time needs to be special.”

Yeah he was a pervert but he was also a romantic at heart.

(Name) hummed. He was a bit disappointed but knew he himself wasn’t actually ready for any cock to go inside his hole.

Yubin grinned as his finger pushed in deep and pressed against something that made (Name) see stars. (Name) cried out when he continued to touch that spot, smirking at how easily he turned into putty from this.

He really had (Name) on his fingertips faster than he believed he could.

“Cum for me, baby.” Yubin muttered, moving to lay on top of (Name). His fingers continued to harshly press against (Name)’s prostate, rubbing it to get out those tiny screams and whimpers from his lover.

(Name) could never go back to just regular old masturbation after this. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could do anything without Yubin there to lead the way.

He hated to admit that he loved Yubin leading their relationship.

“Binnie…” (Name) mewled as he felt his cock twitch. Yubin loved the imagine in front of him.

(Name) on the table as if he was meal for him to devour. Messy hair, the feminine apron still on him, his pajama shirt riding up, and his face flushed red as he moaned in pleasure.

“You’re almost there, baby.” Yubin whispered, deciding he’ll be nice tonight. (Name) whimpered, gripping Yubin’s shoulder as he arched his back with his mouth opened in a silent scream.

His cock twitched once or twice before cumming, shooting it on the apron as he shuddered in pleasure. Yubin continued to thrust his fingers inside, enjoying the whines of overstimulation he got from (Name).

He finally stopped when (Name) could no longer cum, licking off his fingers as (Name) watched. (Name) hated how his hole twitched at the sight.

Fuck, he was truly in too deep now.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Yubin’s a bit of a romantic despite being a massive perv, multi layered if you will 🤭

Keita’s meet cute tomorrow!

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know

The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.

You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.

It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 

Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.

You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.

“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.

Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.

“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.

“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”

“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”

The guilt turns into a smile.

“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”

She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.

The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.

“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”

She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.

Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”

When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”

She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.

“Not blue?”

“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”

Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.

“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”

“Huh?”

“They are like… a bluish purple.”

“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."

Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.

When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.

"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.

"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.

"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"

She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"

"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."

"A boyfriend, then?"

"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."

"Like sex?"

You almost choke. "What?"

"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."

Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.

You don't pry about it.

Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.

Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.

Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.

"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”

“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”

“That could work.”

Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.

On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 

After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 

You look in the mirror again.

You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.

"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”

You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”

After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”

"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."

The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.

You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.

"You look very pretty, Blue."

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."

"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."

"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”

Twix?

But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.

You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 

He calls out her name.

Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“

But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.

You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.

The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.

Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.

"Remember what we talked 'bout?”

What did they talk about?

"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."

Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.

You look down at your feet.

Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.

You look like you're one 'em already.

That is what Ghost said once.

For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.

He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 

"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."

"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."

He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 

It looks nice.

It rains just like you thought it would.

Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.

When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.

Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 

After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.

Tonight it is a book you recognize.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.

Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 

But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 

You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.

“Um. What is it?”

You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?

“Sit with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.

To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”

Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 

His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”

“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”

He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.

“How many were there?”

“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 

You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 

“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”

“Why?”

“I need ammo.” 

His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 

“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”

“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”

“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”

“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 

It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.

You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 

Ghost continues.

“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”

You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 

Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.

“You’re comin’ with us.”

“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”

You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.

Of course.

He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.

You have no choice.

[unreliablesnake]

Vincent takes a liking to you, even though you’re loyal to your boss, Winston (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You're working closely with Winston, but the Marquis wants you for himself.

Note: I might write an actual chapter about the time Winston and Wick show up in Paris. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Part 2(ish)

Bedside Charon, you were one of Winston’s most trusted employees, an assassin who decided to settle for a quieter life–if there was anything that could be considered quiet in this line of work, that is.

Throughout the conversation, the Marquis’ eyes kept falling on you, watching you as a predator stalked its prey. Winston noticed too. You knew because he gave you a worried look at one point.

After he shot Charon and began to walk out of the room, he stopped next to you and said, “You’re coming with me.” It was an order, not a request. You gave your boss a desperate look, hoping he could say or do something to stop him, but he remained silent. “Are you loyal to the Table? If so, you come with me now. If not, you’ll get a bullet like your colleague,” the Marquis told you coldly.

You soon found out he was going straight back to Paris after this. “I don’t even have clothes or other stuff with me, let me–” you tried, but he stopped you, telling you that he would take you shopping once you arrived to France.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time. On the jet, you couldn’t look up from the magazine you had previously found without meeting his gaze. It was tough not knowing whether he wanted to kill you or study you like a lab rat. Neither sounded like a good option, but you would rather choose the latter to stay alive.

When you landed in Paris, he showed you he wasn’t kidding about the shopping. He had already asked one of his men there to get you something new to wear, along with some necessities you would need to freshen up. Then to your surprise he asked you if you would rather sleep or go shopping, and when you chose to get it over with, he took you to all the best places around the city.

Your entire body froze when he walked over to you to take a closer look at the elegant gown you were wearing in a boutique, his fingers running down from your shoulder to your hips. You gulped, definitely not happy to have this kind of attention, but you didn't say anything. You were like a deer in the headlight, frozen from fear.

For whatever reason, the Marquis insisted on you staying in the bedroom next to his. He told you about his plans for the next day or so, expecting you to follow him around wherever he went, always wearing some fancy clothes.

In the evening his chef prepared delicious meals for the two of you, and he kept you close the whole night, his fingers not-so-accidentally brushing against yours every now and then. It was hard to believe it, but he was clearly flirting with you. Even though a part of you found it flattering, you still couldn't understand what he wanted from you exactly.

He took you to the Opera the next day, but instead of focusing on the performance of the dancer, his eyes were locked on you. “You are beautiful, my love,” he said at one point, shocking you with the pet name. “Do you know why I brought you here?” You didn't know if he was referring to Paris or the opera, but you still shook your head.

Since he didn't elaborate until you got back to his place, your mind was in overdrive by the time you entered his mansion. “Why did you bring me here?” you asked him before he could disappear. Instead of answering, he just smiled at you then pulled you into a kiss.

It was terrible, really. You knew that Winston would be utterly disappointed in you if he found out, but you couldn't resist the Marquis' charm. When his fingers began to look for the zipper of your dress, you knew you were a goner.

[scoops-aboy86]

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game. 

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster. 

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that. 

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me. 

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave. 

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve 

~

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually. 

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s. 

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse. 

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay. 

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat. 

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure. 

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him. 

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real. 

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment. 

~

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives. 

You have no idea 

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am. 

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me). 

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis. 

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart. 

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

~

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix. 

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?” 

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes. 

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing. 

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back. 

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look. 

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows. 

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple. 

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally. 

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup. 

“Maybe I’ll go.”

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure. 

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

[ggidolsmuts]

Shopping - ARTMS Jinsoul

"Hey there." Jinsol's voice floats into your ears as you wake up from your nap on the sofa.

"Oh, you're back. How was shopping with Yerim and Jungeun?"

"Good." Jinsol drawls in that airy tone of hers. "We got a lot of new stuff."

"Did you get your Air Force One sneakers?"

"Mmhmm, we got the last pairs!"

"That's great, anything for me?" You joke, getting into a sitting position and stretching with a satisfied sigh—it was a good nap! You smell the faint scent of Jinsol's shampoo as she leans over the sofa and wraps her arms around you.

"You got meeeeee~" She peppers you with kisses.

"I know I know. Do you need any help with the bags?"

"No no, I have it all sorted out." Jinsol gives you one last peck before leaving you to sink back into the sofa. You're back to lying on the sofa and scrolling through your phone before you hear Jinsol call out.

"Oppa, can you come over here?"

"Coming!" You push off the sofa and go to the bedroom, and you're glad you left your phone in the living room, because you would have dropped it. Jinsol's wearing the tiniest little black dress.

"I got this for you, thought you might like to see it." She poses, bringing her hands behind her back, and you see just how tightly the night-shaded fabric hugs her figure. The thin straps contrasts her skin perfectly before it slightly stretches around her chest. It tapers back down her toned tummy, flares around her hips, and ends shortly after, perfectly not hiding her thighs. Dorky as she normally is, Jeong Jinsol can be downright lethal. "How is it?"

"Umm, umm, ummm..." Your mouth is dry as she walks towards you alluringly. "G-Good?" you croak your answer in the form of a question. Jinsol takes your hand and brings to her shoulder—almost naturally you slip it underneath her strap.

"Do you want to try taking it off me?" She reverts to her teasing playful tone, and you look to play in a different sense. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close—Jinsol dangles her hands off your neck, but she curves backwards against your arm, keeping just a little distance yet.

"Jeong Jinsol, what are you doing?" you ask her rhetorically, your hand already sliding a strap off her.

"Jindori wants to play~" She squishes your face between her hands, but actually she's pulling herself to you for a kiss. The two of you are laughing and kissing at the same time, easily bouncing on to the bed. As she slips her arm through one side you are removing the strap from her other shoulder.

"You got this while thinking of me?" You whisper, sucking on her earlobe before leaving a mark on her neck. "Naughty girl."

"Ah! It was right there, just hanging in the shop. It looked so small, yet it fit me! I wondered how it would look hanging in our wardrobe, in which case... What would I be wearing then?"

"Nothing," your voice escapes you as a growl, and as you pull the dress off Jinsol you are proven right—she was wearing nothing underneath. "Really?" Jinsol smiles and takes off your t-shirt before removing your shorts, and soon you are just as naked as she is. You kiss and moan into her ear as she runs a nude leg up and down yours, lightly wrapping around your hip.

"I also got some lingerie from Victoria's Secret, but that's for next time. It's very revealing." She tickles your ear with a kiss. "And it was on sale too."

"God I love you." You give her a peck before kissing down her delectable neck, taking extra time on the spots you know she likes—you were going to treat her extra nicely.

"Ah haha it tickles, mmm!" Light kisses on her breasts go from ticklish to pleasurable quickly as you palm and squeeze them at the same time. The low husky breath she releases when you take a nipple into your mouth is heavenly, and you play with it a bit more before moving down. Jinsol's tummy twitches as you plant kisses down her midriff—ticklish at first, they quickly become pleasurable as you inch closer to the apex between her thighs. Slowly you spread her blooming lips with your tongue, licking one side and then the other. Soft husky moans escape her, her body heat increasing by the moment—you feel it all too well as her thighs close around you, long legs crossing around the back of your neck.

Your tongue coaxes her nub out, shortly followed by her juices on the flat of your tongue. Jinsol's moans come in hitches and gasps, as if trying to keep up with you. You watch her fall back on the bed, her hands finding yours on her hips—it is another gauge for you to use, to figure out how good she's feeling. As far as you can tell, she's feeling pretty good, her nails digging into the back of your hand and her heels doing the same on your back. She humps herself slightly on your lips, so you delve into Jinsol just a little more.

"Ah ah oppa, gonna— mmph!" She muffles herself on the pillow as you instantly switch to her clit, kissing and sucking on it. The jolt of pleasure throws her off and over the edge, a low moan followed by delicate breaths as her thighs tremble around you. Her groans' loudness match the intensity you apply on her nub, and slowly they soften into satisfied mewls.

"Thanks oppa—"

"I'm not done." Reluctantly your hands push her thighs to the sides—you wouldn't be trapped between them anymore, but it did give you a better angle to tonguefuck her. Jinsol bites her lower lip, your tongue twisting and thrusting inside her a prelude to what would happen later. She sighs and gives in, sinking into the bed as she reaches for her own breasts, titillating herself a little more with kneads and squeezes. You eat Jinsol eagerly, tonguing her just deep enough that she tries to push herself further on you. When you think she's had enough teasing you replace your tongue with your fingers, feeding her something more substantial.

"Oh, oh mmm!" You rotate your fingers in her and Jinsol rotates with them, twisting her hips into the bed. She spreads her legs just a little more, urging you to go deeper—you curl your fingers inside her, and now she's letting out small whines. You try to keep your lips attached to her, but her wild movements make it hard, so you settle for kissing her thighs where you could, sucking her skin and leaving marks all over the insides of her thighs—she'll have to wear a longer skirt tomorrow. Her hips begin to jerk in rhythm with with your fingers, and you keep them plugged, allowing Jinsol to hump your hand, grinding her clit on your palm. With a loud husky moan she comes undone swiftly, bucking herself, trying to throw your overstimulating hand off to no avail. You keep your hand pressed firmly between her legs until she whines and slaps the bed in delicious agony—the pressure is released, and Jinsol sighs and goes limp on the bed, her pussy weakly clinging to your fingers as you remove them.

"Good?" you ask her, laying next to her.

"Mm very good, give me a moment." Lazily she reaches down your body, rubbing your erection slowly, almost massaging your cock to warm it up. At first her smile is sweet—Jinsol is glowing as the chemicals of orgasm run through her brain, but eventually the smile turns naughtier and cheekier as she strokes you, lips curling at your breaths and gasps. "I want to be on top."

"Sure." You roll to her side and lay down, ready for her to mount you, but surprisingly Jinsol turns around, giving you the best view of her ass rather than her pretty face as she backs herself up a little and sits on your hips. You can't see what she's doing, but you certainly feel her wrap two hands around you, pressing your shaft against her slick folds.

"Mmm, mm..." You hear yourself moan as your tip pushes her open, and Jinsol sinks down on your cock, each inch disappearing at a slow rate until you're fully sheathed inside her.

"Good oppa?" Jinsol emphasizes the question with a squeeze of her muscles.

"Yeah, you feel so good." She giggles before fixing you with a deadly gaze.

"I hope you can hold on then." You are mesmerized as Jinsol begins to move, half bouncing, half twerking herself on to top of you, up and down and back and forth. Her cheeks jiggled only lightly at first, but soon they intensified as the clash of flesh on flesh became louder, as did your moans. Soon her thighs were flexing too, trying to throw herself on your cock harder, to throw herself off the precipice faster.

More, more, more! That is the only thought going through Jinsol's head, but try as she might she can't quite get there—gravity can only do so much for her. She begins to feel the burn, her legs complaining—it's one thing to squat and flex on stage, it's another to repeat it thoroughly, all while filling herself with cock. Her riding slows down, her slams reducing to bounces and grinds. Her hands brace on your legs, and you wrap an arm around her waist and pull her backwards.

"I can take over."

"Are you close?" Jinsol turns to kiss your jaw, asking you in her slow sexy pace. She spreads her legs further, and squirms a little, sinking deeper on to your cock. You hold her more tightly, one hand on her breast, the other on her midriff to keeping her steady.

"Yeah, very." She takes your hand and slides it down her body, and her voice is low and needy, her hand pressing yours into her skin, just below her cute bellybutton.

"Make me cum with you, I want to cum together..." Jinsol buries her face in the crook of your neck, and her moans vibrate in time with your rhythm. She's even tighter around you as you press her hips to yours, but she's just as wet as she is tight, and you slide in and out of her easily. Your hand drifts down a little lower, finding her clit and rubbing it, and Jinsol begins to contract around you, squealing and whining at the odd circles you rub around it.

"C-Cum for me oppa, ahh! I'm going to cum!" Jinsol can barely hear the sound of your bodies coming together once more, her senses filled with your loud moans and her own vocals. You're thrusting up into her wildly now, and with a rough rub on her clit and a solid thump at her womb she cries out and arches her back. It is an intense orgasm, and it burns through her pleasure quickly, her mind floating back to reality even as you are still moaning in her ear. It allows her to discern one thing—the gooey liquid that's spurting and gathering in her.

"Oh! I can feel you cumming in me!" she gasps, but no one's there to hear it as you're still tense and rigid, going through your own climax and continuing to fire your load in her. Jinsol trembles in primal glee, gripping the sheets as the heat grows in her. She's limp, powerless on top of you as you continue to rut and grind.

"It's so much!" she moans and giggles, and all she can hear is your heavy breaths, your heartbeat pounding against her back. Her eyes roll slightly in her head as she is introduced to a new sensation. "Oh fuck, you're leaking out of me..." Your thick seed leaking out the sides tickle her sensitive skin, and if there was a mirror opposite the two of you it would show Jinsol in an utterly lewd position—her thighs open wantonly, marked with your kisses earlier; cum leaks from her thoroughly creampied hole, now flowing freely as you soften and slip out. You tighten your grip around her waist possessively, two lovers finally satisfied.

"Good?"

"Yeah, you came so much." Jinsol whispers as she feels herself leak with a finger. "You must have liked my black dress."

"Mm, I guess so." Jinsol turns around and the two of you kiss and cuddle in bed, your load slowly leaking on to her thighs and the sheets, but neither of you cared.

"Shower?"

"Sure, oh I should wear that lingerie I bought after!"

"Please no, maybe next time."

"Okay! Next time you can fill me up like this again! Carry me! Jindori can't walk because you went too hard on me!" You sigh and laugh at her cute-toned dirty talk before scooping her in your arms and taking her to the shower. Both of you would agree that Jinsol's shopping trip is definitely a success.

A/N: Something simple for a simple dress, their outfits look so good! Glad the members are landing on their feet. Thanks for reading!

[werecreature-addicted]

I WANT A HALLMARK HALLOWEEN MOVIE. Put in the same energy as they do in their Christmas ones.

Like I know they did do Halloween movies a couple years ago but it’s not what the people want.

Those are like almond mom Christian movies that take the fun out of the spooky month.

I want coco to be replaced by pumpkin spice. Snow replaced by fallen leaves.

Girl moving into a small town and somehow finds herself at the widowed lumberjacks barn who turns out to be Frankensteins monster or moth-man.

I don’t want a Christmas prince! I want a Halloween prince. Where we get married on Halloween and by some lazy writing our baby is born on Halloween!

Decorating the Christmas tree with the town bad boy? I want to carve pumpkins with the loner werewolf.

I want that corny romance stuff. With a sprinkle of Halloween spirit of spooky miracle. Idfk.

I doesn’t even have to be hallmark that does it. There are tons of other small studios that make those kinds of movies. I just Halloween girlies to feel special.

busy businesswoman from New York City is back home for her small hometown's annual Halloween Festival/ Parade/ Celebration. She thinks Halloween is corny and for kids but also her birthday is October 31st- a fact she tries to keep secret from the rest of the town although her family eventually lets it slip.

she has a meet ugly where the town handyman jump scares her with a plastic skeleton Halloween decoration and she trips back and falls into a puddle of mud ruining her busy business suit! the man isn't a bad guy though and he gives her a change of clothes and hey- she actually looks better dressed down out of that stuffy suit.

She's still pissed though and is in the middle of threatening him with the dry cleaning bill when her Execntic Uncle/ grandpa/ town old man walks in and officially introduces the two. Definitely not a werewolfman, who's been doing all this work setting up the town Halloween festival and Female Lead Back from the big city for the holiday and for some convoluted business reason too. even though they might not like each other now they have to at least be polite for the sake of this weird random old man they both know.

It becomes clear that Definitely Not a werewolfman is too kind for his own good and keeps trying to make everyone happy by promising impossible things at the Halloween festival and puts off planning and arranging things to play with kids and drink warm apple cider with old ladies so Female Lead has to step in with her busy business skills and get things in order, things start to fall into place and hey- they make a pretty good team. and even if Werewolfman isn't as serious as her new york boys...maybe that's a good thing.

They spend the night eating pumpkin spice cookies and drinking hot chocolate while making paper bat banners for a parade float and share a kiss. things are going great until oh no!! it turns out he's a werewolf and transforms in front of her.

she is inraged he never told her this huge secret over the week that they've known each other. She doesn't care that he's a werewolf- she cares that he lied to her and the town. Then she gets a call from Business Inc. back in New York. they need her back in town TOMORROW but- tomorrow is Halloween. what will she do? will she choose the town that accepted her and the Halloween festival she worked so hard on? or job?

Werewolf man sets off the festival and it's a huge hit but the whole time he's looking for Female Lead but can't find her...she must have gone back to NEEEEEW york... but then someone jumps out at him with a plastic skeleton it's Female Lead!! she staid after all and has been at the party in a Halloween costume. something she swore she'd never wear. he apologizes for hiding the fact he's a werewolf from someone he's known for less than a month. she says she's quit her job and is staying in town with him. they kiss and say i love you. then he pulls her away from the party to make a wish on a small cupcake with a candle on it- it is her birthday after all.

The cammera pans out to a shot of the old man from before who winks at the camera. he was the spirit of Halloween magic all along (sorry there's no Halloween equivalent of Santa)

[inkskinned]

everyone talks about the clothing store and honestly everyone is expected to wear stuff from that store and you're a little young and curious, and what's the harm of looking. it's in all the magazines and everyone knows okay some of the things are ugly but! like generally everyone thinks we should be wearing these clothes. they're elite. they're precious. they are a symbol of wealth and status.

you walk into the clothing store and see a very nice sweater and you've been wanting to stay warm so you pick up the sweater. it turns immediately into a horrible fizzing froth, rushing over your skin, faintly acidic. it's tacky, it leaves behind a residue. horrified and a little ashamed - did you do it wrong? - you reach out blindly and your hands find a shirt. that one dissolves too. you think of the phrase you break it, you bought it. how much money did you just accidentally spend on that shirt and that sweater, both things that you'll never be able to wear.

more confused than anything, you turn to the first person you see, but she's experiencing the same thing, her brows furrowed. "i've been here since i was 13," she says. "one of these days i'll actually get to try on something."

you were raised with horror movies, so you look for an escape instead of trying to stay. you go to the front desk and wait in the front line and when you finally get to the front, a very angry man is sitting there, scowling at you. "i think your store is broken," you say to him. "i can't pick up any of your clothes. they don't work."

it is as if you have said something vile. every person within earshot takes a step back from you. the man gives you a cool look. "these clothes are good for you," he says.

"no, i know that," you've read about them, "but i can't seem to actually hold them."

again, everyone seems to think you've said the wrong thing. some of them are holding shirts, so obviously some clothes work. those are the people you hear whispering first. lazy. someone murmurs. i managed fine, you hear. i just had to keep trying.

the man taps a sign next to him. in big bold print: not everyone can have this.

"okay, um. if you're not going to be helpful, i'm just going to... not buy this," you manage, feeling yourself flush with heat. why are you so embarrassed? their clothes are the thing that aren't working.

"i don't have time for people who don't dress themselves well," he says. "it's disgusting."

you don't know what else to say because actually you dress fine, you're pretty sure, you're just not in their clothes. you leave the store.

but your hands are still tacky from before. you find yourself weirdly sensitive about your clothes. maybe you should go back in, try again? there were people who were able to make the clothes stay present, you might have just been doing something weird.

plus there's the rest of the world. how people look at you in airports. how shame rushes over your cheeks during job interviews, worried you don't look "professional" enough. the people across you are all wearing those clothes, and you're not. in the doctor's office, the nurse's eyebrows skyrocket. are you sure you actually went into the store and tried on the clothes? you're staring at her - i'm here to see about my cough, not about my wardrobe.

but of course it fucking matters. when you google it, you find out that most people can only hold onto the clothes for about two years or so, and then they fizzle out too. that the clothes only "stick" for 5% of customers. it just means that any person in those clothes matters more. it's a scarcity. at first, you're horrified by the idea of something that almost never works. but you learn it soon enough: being in the 5% means you have taste, class, are exceptionally pretty.

you try to ask why exactly it's these clothes, but you usually are answered with an eye roll. you ask why the prices are so high. why nobody seems to care about the way their clothes leave that weird strange residue for years later. there's a sizing chart online you find, hoping it might explain your weird inability to lift anything. most of the news articles all read the same thing - this chart was made by someone cruel and definitely isn't accurate, but for some reason it is still used as our golden rule.

so you go again. you fall too. it's worth it to try. even kind of ironically. even kind of privately, shamefully. this time you go and manage to hold onto socks, but it means you sometimes get that strange residue on your floors. you get used to the tackiness after a while, but when you manage to hold onto pants, you discover the tackiness spreads. sure, it's irritating - this sense there's a barrier between everything you touch, even you and your friends - but it's worth it, because people notice you're in those pants. and you don't want to be one of the 95% who lose them after all this fucking work you put in, so you let the tack get all over everything until it dries down into a fine powder that coats your floor in a brick red flurry. when you walk, your footprints look bloody, so you just learn to step gently.

and since it worked for you once, like gambling - you will come back. you will teach others how to get into the store. you will tell your own children - oh, you just have to keep trying at the clothing store. you will let others treat you badly when you are not wearing the right things. you will spend all that money over and over and over again and you will feel ugly if you are not wearing their brand. you are simply treated better if you dress like this. you feel better if you dress like this, secretly winning over your friends who are between sizes. it doesn't matter how much time you spend at the store, missing birthday cakes and parties because you're trying to make a dress look nice before dissolving. what matters is that when it works, all that relief and joy and peace rushes in. when it works, people finally love you again.

the diet industry promises you - it'll all be okay, once you're thin.

[lowkeyremi]

Hello Maya! Before I start my request, I just wanna say, I love your writing!!! I've been reading your things for a few weeks now (I'm new to tumbler) and I'm hooked!!

Anywho- I was listening to "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift and it gave me the idea of fem!reader meeting Satoru at some big event for sorcerers and falling hopelessly in love with him

heyyyyyy thank you for reading my stuff and i'm really happy you made a request, i've been hoping someone would bc i want to write ideas other than my own. i'm not huge on taylor swift so i had to listen to this song lol its pretty good :) you ask and i shall provide!! also i'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind :')

Enchanted S. Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k

content: fluff, meeting and getting together

The night hadn't been going so well. You spilled some of your drink on your dress. That was borrowed from your friend might you add. Three guys that showed any potential interest were already with someone and their dates angrily pulled them away from you.

There are whispers about the oh so famous Satoru Gojo, and how he's finally made an appearance with his long time friend Nanami.

You've heard plenty about him, he's the famous sorcerer from Jujutsu High that has six eyes. He can solve any problem and he's said to be very hot. Honestly you're kind of a hater, you think people are gassing him up for no reason.

You've never personally met him but his description makes it hard to miss him if you see him; white hair blue eyes, but he'll likely be wearing an eye mask.

A sigh escapes your lips as you walk toward the bar for another drink, you would have invited your best friend but she's not a sorcerer and would not get it at all. "Hi, sorry for being back so soon, but could I get a strawberry margarita?" The woman behind the bar nods.

Before she can walk off though, a silky, carefree voice makes a request with your order, "Me too! Never tried strawberry margarita. Sounds pretty fruity." This day is already bad so you turn your head to see who just made it even worse-

A pretty white haired man stands by your side, piercing blue eyes peaking through sunglasses that look down right ridiculous at such a formal event. "Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors??" Is the first thing you ask, no 'Hi how are you?' or 'why are you ordering drinks on my tab?'

"Cuz I could make everyone faint with my pretty blue eyes." He smirks, confidence evident in every word.

You look confused and he finds it cute. A foreign feeling stirs in your stomach. "Just kidding. I'd waste my power if my glasses were off. Actually, I was advised not to wear them, but I didn't wanna wear my mask for this event. I have it in my pocket just in case though." He's so light and bubbly you almost forget what you were fuming about.

"You're Gojo right?" He smiles and gives a quick nod.

"And you must be 'girl with a stain on her dress', huh?" You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Woo that was a good one, almost made my stomach hurt from laughter." You counter sarcastically; the moodiness coming back to you.

"Haha, my bad. Anyway when we get drinks I'll find us somewhere to sit and I'll make you laugh for real." That confidence is still there. You love funny people, they're exciting to be around.

"I'm holding you to that. I need a good laugh." His smile consists of all his pearly whites and is enough to make you, or anyone around you melt.

He goes to pay for your drink, and even hands it to you. "I have to say you are way less selfish than people make you out to be."

The man in question shrugs and smirks at you, "I am very selfish about certain things, childish even. It's only the first date though so pretend you don't know about that." He waves his hand dismissively. You couldn't even care about the fact he admitted to selfishness, you're stuck up on the part where he said this is a date.

"Who said this is a date?" He notices you're trying to play it cool, but he can see right through you.

"I did. I mean if you want, we can think of it more as a blind date since it wasn't planned." Something about him doesn't rub you the wrong way or make you angry at all. He's definitely an odd ball, but he's able to make you feel something in your gut that you haven't felt in a very long time, maybe not ever, actually.

"I- what- you can't just-" You cut yourself off, lost for words, trying to comprehend what he'd just said.

He intertwines his fingers with yours. They're cold to the touch, long and slender. He does that thing where you rub your thumb across all the other fingers. On top of that he gives you that love struck gaze. You're all kinds of confused because why is someone like him trying to flirt with you??? He could literally have any other pretty sorcerer but he's walking you over to a fancy table to sit and talk.

"Ugh, you're supposed to have warm hands to contrast my cold ones." He complains, and if you weren't already stunned then you definitely were now. He's swinging his arm back in forth, with you mirroring it because he's holding your hand.

"I can't help my hands being cold, maybe you should be the one with the warm hands." He shrugs at your response. The swinging stops when you two reach a table big enough for four and pulls out your chair for you.

"I normally don't do this but you're definitely worth it." a lopsided grin covers his face.

As nice as all of this is you look around for cameras. Your mind is telling you he means no harm, but you can never be too sure.

"Okay, is this some kind of joke or show?? Where are the cameras because this can't be real." The white haired six foot something giant's face contorts into something very (ugly) funny. His face scrunches up at your words.

"I can't believe you'd suggest something like that! I'm serious, I just want to be a normal guy and have a normal encounter with someone. So, can you just pretend I'm a normal date and not Gojo Satoru?" He's telling the truth and for the first time tonight you fully relax.

"Okay, hi normal guy. What do you like to do?" You ask playfully feeling enchanted by his charismatic presence. He makes you feel a sense of freedom like you never have before.

The rest of the night the two of you goof off and talk about all kinds of things. Eventually he's being dragged out by Nanami because of how drunk he is. He'd given you his number, "Call me!!!" He whines loudly while being led to the car he arrived in.

"Okay! When I do, don't forget everything from tonight." You yell back to him.

"Like hell I will!" And he was telling the truth because about two hours later when you were winding down for bed you get a call from an unknown number. Usually you wouldn't pick up but you have a feeling that the person on the other side was none other than Gojo normal guy.

"Hello?" You don't get a response for a few seconds, your stomach drops thinking you had miscalculated...

"I miss you already, when can I see you again?" He asks sleepily.