#he should be displayed everywhere all the time

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

[dollfacefantasy]

billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fingering i am so down bad i had to get this out of my system

Everywhere he went, you followed Billy around like a puppy. Always watching him with adoring eyes, lingering by his side to see what he was up to. At first he pinned it on you looking for reassurance as the newbie in the group, but after a few weeks, it was obvious that your attachment ran deeper. You obviously had quite the crush. 

You spoke to him with more nerves in your voice. Followed his orders down to the letter and damn near saluted him when you received them. He could scowl at you or scold you, and you might scurry away with your tail between your legs for the hour. But give it some time, and you'd be back.

He didn’t know what to make of it. Sure it was... flattering, and technically, you were still doing your job well, performing on missions as you should. But at the same time, it was distracting having a sweet young thing like you prancing around him at all times, seeking his approval with each breath you took. He was supposed to be focusing on revenge, justice, saving the world and all that. But fuck, one look at you and that's all a distant memory.

At the end of the day, he's just a man. He needs to have a taste. One night when the two of you are out scouting, he gets you alone in the van. It only takes a tender look and a few words in a lilted tone of his voice to have you cumming on his fingers and your panties in the pocket of his coat. A few days later, you blow him in a public bathroom while you wait for a target to show up. After that, he eats you out at your desk in the office.

Tonight he gets you back to his place. He's sat on the sagging couch, thighs spread wide enough to accommodate you between them. He holds you there. You're bent in half with your legs up in the air. One of his arms is hooked around them for support while his other is curved around your bottom to get at your dripping pussy.

His thick fingers pump in and out. He works at a moderate pace for now, not enough to break you just yet, but the perfect rhythm to make you squirm your ass against his solid bulge. You have your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with droopy, glazed eyes. All he can do is smirk in return.

"Feel good? You like gettin' that little cunt stuffed full?" he teases.

His voice comes out hushed despite the fact that it's just the two of you. The words rumble up from his chest against your back. You just nod in response. Any words that would have been suitable have turned to mush in the pit of your belly.

The wordless gesture doesn't stop him at all. It only spurs him forward. His entire hand is coated in slick by now, your arousal seeps out with each pump and slips over the expanse of his palm. Wet, erotic noises emanate from your center while soft whimpers pour from your lips. He squeezes your legs up tighter, smooshing your breasts down.

"I know you do, pup. Such a needy thing," he says, "Following me around like I got you collared and leashed."

You moan at the image of that filling your mind. If he wanted you to, you would. You'd kneel at his feet, bound and pretty, displaying your devotion to him around your neck. You'd rest your empty little head on his knee and zone out while he pet you and called you his good girl.

"Oh, she likes that," he chuckles as your walls clamp around him.

You nod eagerly before arching your back and yelping as his thumb starts swiping across your puffy clit.

"Atta girl. Panting like a bitch in heat for me," he murmurs and nuzzles your temple.

You whine like one too, trembling in his arms as the coils of pleasure tighten in your tummy. Your eyes flutter, lashes dusting your cheeks as you look up at him. He watches on with his own lust blazing in his eyes.

He fucks his fingers into your tight heat faster, curling them a bit to stroke that sweet spot inside you. Some drool slips from between your lips at the onslaught of stimulation. His fingers were just so fucking thick. Only two of 'em were in right now. He hadn't let you take his cock yet, but you could only imagine how snug of a fit it would be if this was any indicator.

"There you go, love. You're getting there," he praises as he continues sliding his fingers in and out while massaging your bundle of nerves.

"F-fuck," you whimper, "Gonna cum soon."

"I can tell," he rasps, "Go head and do it. Wanna see you come apart for me."

Soft noises of ecstasy bubble from your lips. You were nothing if not dedicated to pleasing this man, so you give him what he wants. It only takes a few more flicks and thrusts of his digits to get you to crash into bliss. 

Your head tilts back as you cum. Your legs kick lightly in the air, but he keeps you in place. You squirm against his broad, warm chest. Your cunt locks tightens around his fingers, wishing so fucking badly that it was his cock.

He kisses you as you start to come down. His lips land on yours and capture every delicious sound you make. Your breathing calms and returns to a normal pace along with your heart rate slowing down. Your legs bend over his forearm before he lets them down gently and allows you to just sink back into his body.

You're soaked between your legs, inner thighs slippery with release. As he withdraws his fingers, your pussy is already aching for another part of him to fill it up again. You turn and slide your grabby hands beneath his shirt, but he simply boosts you up to sit fully on his lap.

"You're insatiable, sweetheart," he teases before pecking your lips.

"Cause you keep teasing me," you mumble.

"Yeah? Think so? I think I'm just taking my time with you."

"Takin' too long," you huff in response between kisses.

"Maybe you're just greedy and spoiled," he says.

You're about to reply with another bratty comment, but he flips you over and spreads you out on the couch. You hear the zipper on his pants slide down, and you're almost certain it's the most thrilling noise you've heard in your life. One look up at his eyes tells you you're not gonna be complaining in a couple more minutes.

[mystra-midnight]

— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?" 

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed. 

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside. 

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends. 

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself. 

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect. 

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you. 

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely. 

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact. 

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush. 

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape. 

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you. 

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

—interest in being tagged in future chapters? send me a message!

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

[inevesgf]

GOOD LUCK CHARM

with both of you being busy, you have the chance to surprise charles before his race in monza and bring him some good luck on the track — wrote by inevesgf.

content + warnings: female!actress!reader, carlos sainz feature, sweet talking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, some french + spanish, sex (unprotected) — p in v, oral (female receiving), light dirty talking, fluff + a lil sappy!!

masterlist + requesting rules.

monza  grand  prix,  2022.

you and your boyfriend had conflicting schedules to say the least. red carpets and movie premieres: you were always busy. charles on the other hand spent most of his time on the sim, and to show off his hard work, on the track. when the two of you started dating, you knew it would be hard. the long phone calls from across the globe and weeks without seeing each other was difficult, but it made times when you could come together even more special. 

it was now saturday, september 10th — just a day before the grand prix in monza and a week shy of your 2 year anniversary with charles. after wrapping up with filming early, you wanted to do something extra special for charles. with monza being a big deal for the ferrari team and your anniversary approaching, you wanted to surprise him. without charles knowing – or even being suspicious for that manner – you had sneakily made your way to italy in order to be there for the grand prix.

it was qualifying day, the sun bright and the sky clear, when you had arrived at the circuit. you greeted some of the ferrari crew as you walked into the paddock, their faces lighting up in excitement when they saw you. quali was set to start in a few hours, which gave you just enough time to plan how you would surprise your sweet boyfriend before he was swept away once again.

“look at who it is!” a voice erupted behind you, causing you to turn around. “i was starting to think i would never see you in a paddock again.” laughed carlos sainz, your boyfriend’s teammate. you smiled at him, laughing softly when he pulled you into a friendly hug. “shhh, i’m surprising char.” you hushed, a small smile decorating your lips. “well, keeping a secret from him is working. if he knew you were coming, he would not have shut up about you all day.” teased carlos.

everyone close to charles and you knew just how much the two of you loved each other. your public affection was never overwhelming to your peers, but they admired the soft forms of intimacy charles’ wasn’t afraid to display to you in public. of course, with while both of you being in the public got in the way, charles was never afraid to show you were his. 

“i’ve missed him badly, but i couldn’t tell him. i knew it would make him anxious so i have kept it a surprise. don’t want him getting too excited that i’ve come to watch the race that he crashes during free practice.” you laughed, brushing your hair from your face as you looked up at carlos. 

“very wise decision.” the spanish man laughed, peering over his shoulder briefly. “i am not sure where charles is now – do you want me to find him for you?” carlos asked, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he scanned around for his teammate.

“no no – its okay. do you think i should wait til after quali? make it like a big surprise that i was there to watch him?” you proposed, also joining carlos’ eyes in scanning the room to make sure charles wasn’t in sight – it would ruin the surprise if he had seen you too soon after all. 

“you might be on to something, niña.” carlos teased, laughing softly; he always knew how to press your buttons with his friendly banter.  “don’t you worry, i will make sure he doesn’t know you’re here til then.” he winked before quickly turning on his heels when vasseur called for him. “see you later. and who knows – maybe you’ll bring charles some good luck in quali while you’re here, pequeña amuleto de buena suerte.”

for the first time in your banter-filled friendship, carlos had a point. and he was right. charles was going to start from pole in monza the next day and you couldn’t be more proud of your boy. monza was a big deal for ferrari – as well as charles and the tifosis – which made the pole all the more special.

charles rid himself of his helmet, tugging his balaclava off his head which showed off his bright smile on the television screen in the viewing room. you couldn’t help but smile, incredibly happy for your boyfriend and anxious that you'd see him any minute.

after having a quick debrief, charles was finally able to make his way back to the ferrari garage and into cooler air conditions. you could see him now, his suit loosely draped over his waist revealing the white fireproofs underneath. you could have sworn charles had gotten more attractive since you’d last seen him in person — his daily selfies just didn’t suffice.

your heart started to thud in your chest, anxiety and excitement overwhelming you. when charles had turned his back to where you had been, starting a conversation up with carlos, you took this as your cue. you slowly walked up behind charles, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder. “guess who?” you whispered, not being able to hold back a small laugh at your awkward words.

you could have sworn charles almost died of excitement as he quickly whipped around, pulling you by the waist and engulfing you in the tightest hug. “mon cœur, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he breathed heavily, mumbling words into your neck as he kissed it softly. you wrapped your arms tightly around him in return, charles’ grip so taut you’d think he believed if he let go you’d disappear. “i didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” you laughed, a smile decorating your face as you laid your head into his shoulder. “congrats, lovebirds. i will see you two soon.” carlos laughed, walking away with a smirk on his face. 

charles pulled away, placing a hand softly on your cheek. his face was decorated with a sweet, soft smile that had you melting. “did you just get here?” he questioned softly. “no,” you responded, “before quali – i wanted to watch before i surprised you.” charles smile only grew bigger as he pulled you into his sweaty embrace once again. “that’s why i did so good then – not because of the car – because you were here.” his words almost made you want to cry, a smile on your face as you brought your lips up to kiss his cheeks.

“you’re like my good luck charm,” charles hummed softly before pulling away again, his bright eyes locking onto yours. charles spoke up again, “you’re staying for the race, right?” you nodded, the smile never able to leave your lips. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

when charles was finally able to leave the paddock, you two were able to have the whole night to yourselves – alone. this was quite rare for the two of you during the season, so when it happened, it was like getting a puppy for christmas.

“i think this occasion calls for the best.” charles hummed, fetching two wine glasses from the cupboard at his airbnb. he pulled out some expensive wine gifted to him by the team after he received pole which made you laugh. “homme chic,” you teased, a smile on your face. “going to spoil me?” with your words charles laughed, setting the bottle down onto the table once he poured two glasses. he approached where you had been sitting, wrapping his arms around you in the chair before bringing his mouth down to your ear. “in more ways than one tonight.” he spoke low and teasingly which never failed to send a shiver down your spine. “j'ai de la chance.” you cooed, winking playfully.

you don’t know what happened between charles pouring the wine and the moment he had you laid across the dining table, your legs spread as if you were the buffet he was about to devore. you moaned, your hands tangling in his soft hair as he sucked on your clit. charles always made sure to pay attention to your sensitive areas, never leaving anything untouched when he pleased his girl as one of his fingers began to pump inside of you. his tongue paid extra attention to your bud, flicking it and spelling his name with his tongue. 

charles laped up every bit of juice that leaked out of you, his free hand gripping your thigh. he pulled his lips away briefly, his hot breath tickling you as he spoke against the skin of your thigh. “maybe eating this sweet pussy will give me luck tomorrow, huh?” charles teased, making you shiver. he got up from his kneeled positon, leaning between your legs on the table to kiss you deeply. his tongue danced around yours, the taste of your slick on his lips making you whine into the kiss. “i love you.” charles grumbled, reaching down to undo his jeans as he moved his lips to your neck, sucking on it like he had your clit.

god, you fucking missed charles. every little part of him. from the way he kept you safe, the way he talked to you, the way he loved you – all of it. “i love you, i love you so much.” you moaned out softly as he attacked your neck with kisses, your hands joining his at the waistband of his boxers as you helped him rid himself of them. you spread your legs wide open for him as his lips left your neck, his hungry eyes looking down at you as his hard cock began to tease at your folds.

sometimes you and charles liked to play dirty. he’d make you beg, cry in pleasure – but you both loved taking it slow as well. even if he was fucking you brainless, he was always sure to take good care of you and express just how much he loved you afterwards – and even during.

it had nearly been a month since you had last had sex, which made charles want to show you just how much he missed every part of you as his hips bucked fiercely against yours. you moaned as he pumped himself deeply into your cunt, your hands coming up to dig your nails into his shoulders. “i fucking love you.” charles grunted, letting his forehead rest against your shoulder as he continued to thrust, his movements rough and sloppy. one of his hands laced around you, holding you up while the other slipped up your thigh, teasing you as he pounded faster into your cunt.

his thumb traced up your thigh, finding your clit before he started to rub circles around it. “so beautiful. so fucking beautiful and you’re all mine.” charles panted his teeth practically biting into your shoulder. “feels so good — you’re so good. ‘m all yours.” you whined, knowing charles liked the praise as your head fell back in pleasure.

charles stretched you open, pounding into you with a mix of lust and love. he let his head snake up to the crook of your shoulder, placing soft and tender kisses on your neck. you knew he was close to his climax when his thrusts grew more sloppy, his thumb working fastly around your clit which made you moan somehow even louder. 

“you close, baby?” charles cooed. he was always such a gentlemen – making sure you finished before he would even think about it. “mhm, fuck yes.” you whined, his thumb running circles on your sensitive clit making you squirm under him. charles groaned in satisfaction, his tongue continuing to work your neck as he nipped and sucked at the skin. 

you loved being close to charles: cuddling him, holding hands. him being in you was the closest you could possibly be and the feeling made you feel so connected and intertwined with him – beyond the warmness of lust. 

“fuck — i’m gonna cum.” charles groaned, sloppily pounding into you. his thumb gliding over you clit made you cum hard, your walls clenching around him which only encouraged him to finish inside you.

the two of you were a panting mess after charles pulled out, his cum coating your thighs as it leaked out. he laughed softly, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours. “i love you. i missed you.” charles hummed, kissing your lips which made you hum satisfiedly.

being the gentlemen he is, charles cleaned you up, taking a small towel to wipe the excrement from your thighs before handing you a glass of water. you thanked him with a small smile, taking a sip which helped your heavy panting calm. “i was thinking we could maybe watch a movie — cuddle up.” charles hummed, zipping up his jeans. you nodded, pulling your panties back up to your waist. “that sounds perfect.” you smiled, your eyes crinkling as you did. 

you stood up from the kitchen table, turning around to lazily smooth out the table cloth before you continued to put the rest of your clothes back on. charles approached you from behind, laughing as he moved you hair away from your neck. “madame, what are these marks on your neck?” he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “sorry, sir — i’m dating a vampire.” you joked, turning around to place a kiss on his lips.

“now what movie were you thinking?” you asked, taking a hold of his hand before you guided him over to the couch. “something scary.” charles responded. “oh, so i can hold you and protect you?” you teased knowing damn well you could handle horror films better than charles. “maybe.” charles smirked, his cheeky expression making you laugh. “well then, if you’re so brave,” you joked, “pick out a film while i go fetch us some snacks.” in response, charles hummed satisfiedly, a small laugh escaping his lips as you walked into the kitchen.

you continued pouring the wine from earlier – the one charles started to pour before rudely interrupting you by eating your pussy on the kitchen counter – before you set the glasses to the side. you knew the two of you didn’t need alcohol, especially before charles’ race the next morning, but it was something to help you unwind before the stress of the monza grand prix. of course, charles would be experiencing more stress, but watching your boyfriend drive a death machine going 330kph made you anxious from the viewing room.

you put microwave popcorn into the microwave – a pack that came with a complimentary ‘thanks for staying with us’ gift – setting the timer for the appropriate time before you grabbed a bowl. “are you done yet?” charles groaned out from the living room, making you laugh. “almost!” you laugh, his impatient tone sounding like that of a toddler. “i miss you!” he whined out, making you huff as the popcorn finished popping.

once it was done, you lightly salted the popcorn like charles liked it, bringing the bowl into the living room. “couldn't wait 5 minutes for me?” you teased, his large frame taking up almost all of the couch. “i haven’t seen you for over a month and you’re making fun of me, ma belle? mama mia, let me be a gentlemen.” charles teased back, opening his arms for you as you set the bowl down on the coffee table. you grumbled jokingly, laying ontop of him before fixing your head on his chest.

you knew the two of you weren’t going to be paying much attention to the movie – the conjuring being the film charles chose – when he looked down at your with his big green eyes. you laughed, burying your head into the crook of his neck once he wrapped his arms around you. “i missed you – i don’t think i could ever say it enough.” charles spoke softly, his large, calloused hands coming up to play with your hair. “i missed you. i thought about you all the time. i’m sorry i’ve been gone – i wish i could have been there for more races.” you spoke emotionally, keeping your sad expression hidden in the crook of his neck. “no, ma belle, shhh.” he cooed, petting your hair gently. “never apologize for having a career for yourself – especially a successful one.” you laughed at his words; charles always knew how to flatter you.

“i do it for you, you know – every race. i am always thinking about you when i’m driving, it’s my motivation.” he spoke, his words making you melt in his arms. “i’m so lucky to love you.” you spoke up, your eyes getting teary with gratefulness. you sat up, straddling charles’ lap so you could look into his eyes. “i love you.” you added at a whisper like your love was a secret – but it was nowhere near a secret – you would shout it from the rooftops if you could. “i love you, so much.” charles matched your soft tone, coming in to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“you know, when i saw that you were here i just about died of happiness – today is the best day i’ve had in a long time.” his confession almost broke your heart, but you were too emotional to keep it together. “i had to come see you, i just had to. i needed to be here for monza – to cheer my winner on.” you smiled despite your wet eyes, a grin forming on charles’ face that mirrored yours. “see, this is why i love when you’re here, my good luck charm. you keep my motivated.”

you fell asleep on charles’ chest that night before he carried you bridal style to the bedroom, laying you comfily on the bed before tucking you in. despite his best effort, you woke up, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. “is it bedtime?” you groaned, sitting up against the bedframe. “yes, mon amour, it’s midnight.” charles laughed, taking his shirt off and slipping himself into some sleep pants. “are you going to get ready for bed?” he hummed, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “no–” you murmured tiredly, “can you get me dressed? ‘m too tired.” charles laughed at your exhausted state once more, rolling his eyes playfully. “yes, ma belle.” he hummed, going over to your suitcase to pull out a tshirt and a pair of sleep pants.

once he fetched the items, he walked over to you, kneeling between your legs as he sat the clothes on the bed. “lift your arms up.” he demanded softly, laughing to himself as you tiredly lifted your arms over your head. charles slipped your shirt off, his eyes darting across the small marks that covered your collarbones from earliers feverish moment. you laughed softly as his gaze, rolling your eyes before he slipped the new shirt over your head. “this isn’t a free show.” you murmured, charles now being the one who’s eyes rolled. “just admiring the view.” he teased like a teenage boy on his first date. you laughed, lifting your legs up so he could slowly rid you of your jeans as he slipped on the checkered sleep pants to your legs.

“what would i do without you?” you teased, flopping back onto the bed. charles crawled over you, laying on the side of the bed next to you before he pulled you in to spoon you. your bodies fit perfectly together – like a lost puzzle piece that had finally found its match. “probably die.” charles teased, placing a soft kiss on your neck. 

you laughed in return, holding onto his arms as they wrapped around your waist. “good night, mon amour.” charles hummed softly. you turned around to face him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “good night, my love.” you murmured.

the next day, charles was gone when you woke up. the race was about to commence in a few hours, so of course – being a driver – he had to be there bright and early. you groaned, the morning sun shining through the windows of the airbnb bedroom making your eyes sting. with a wandering hand, you slapped the night stand next to your, lazily searching for your cellphone. once you found it, you turned it on, your eyes lingering on the lockscreen of you and charles. the photo made you smile. you were right where you belonged: in a bed you shared with your lover the previous night, hours away from hopefully seeing him be the first to see the checkered flag wave. 

you took your time getting ready, dressing yourself in a black dress and pairing it with a ferrari jacket charles had gotten you as a gift – he loved seeing you in his team wear. your brain couldn’t help but slip your thoughts to the direction of your relationship as you got ready. you thought about the highs, the lows, the vacations with just you two, the late nights, the early mornings, the good and the bad. everything seemed to flow perfectly. it felt as if your childhood fantasies came true – 26 years of waiting for your prince charming and now you had finally found him.

the monza grand prix had you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. a pole start turned into charles’ still leading in the early laps, and leading into the early laps lead to a victory. a victory in ferrari’s home country for your prince? now that was a happy tidbit to add to the fairytale. and after all the chaos of the race, charles words reigned true – you were his good luck charm, and more so, the love of his life. 

dedicated to @emchante <3 happy late birthday. ilysm!!! gonna start a tag list, so as of right now, please comment to be added to it x. mmmwahhh

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[httpsaki]

physical touch with haikyuu ｡⁠*ﾟ

fluff | sfw

gn!reader | established relationship

warnings: mild profanity

✧ unexplainable close proximity with very odd positions

he doesn't hate physical touch, but he's not totally crazy about it either. though he can't deny, there are moments when he really does crave your touch. so here you are, met with his most bizarre ways of saying, "i want you to pay attention to me but i can't say it out loud because it's embarrassing so you should just know." with his legs on your lap or vice versa, his head resting on your back, brushing your knuckles while walking, or even just making his knees or thighs touch yours while sitting on the floor.

ukai, kenma, aone, sakusa, tsukishima, shirabu, kageyama, kyotani, suna, kunimi

✧ his hands all over you

holding hands, drawing circles on your skin, hands on your shoulders, hands on your thigh, hands on your waist, hands on your cheeks, wherever. not like you could complain, his hands on your body just leaves you with a rare sensation, warmth, and the assurance that you are his. he knows how crazy you are for his touch, and oh, just how much he loves having his world at the palm of his hands.

yamaguchi, semi, yaku, kindaichi, ushijima, daichi, hanamaki, kita

✧ hugs—and so much of them

he likes having you in a tight embrace. trapped in each other's arms soaking up on each other's undying love for each other as you wait for the other to let go (plot twist: neither of you wants to). front hugs, back hugs, side hugs, bear hugs, hugs while you're lying on the bed or couch, you name it. when he just holds you in his arms, it's as if you forget about all of your burdens. he just has one favor to ask you: don't you go away just yet.

asahi, lev, takeda, akaashi, osamu, ennoshita, futakuchi, aran, komori

✧ kisses everywhere that sweeps you off your feet

oh he just loves to feel you melting as soon as his lips crash onto yours. he loves the taste of your lips, but he just loves his lips on you in general. he likes planting kisses all over your face and neck, sometimes even marking your skin. from peppery smooches to a long, passionate kiss—heck, he'll do so much more. he would give you the world if you'd just ask. most times he'd keep this intimacy private, though, there are times when he wouldn't be afraid to kiss you in front of people watching; just so they know who you belong to.

sugawara, tanaka, iwaizumi, konoha, terushima, daishou, yahaba, kuroo

✧ fuck all that, you are never escaping his touch even if you wished

this man is the living, breathing definition of physical touch. he is never letting you go, not now that you're finally right there by his fingertips. cuddles? public display of attention? just glued onto your skin in general? hell yeah, he loves that. he loves how close you are to him at the moment, matter fact he would beg to be this close to you all the time. clinging onto you is his way of showing the world that there is nothing that could break you both apart. it's gotten to the point where your skin feels weird whenever he's not touching you in one way or another. though, you wouldn't want it any other way.

oikawa, matsukawa, bokuto, hinata, kogane, tendou, goshiki, nishinoya, atsumu

[heich0e]

just saw talk of boxer au!gojo on twitter and i fear now i'm thinking about satoru—undefeated in his weight class, a sensation in the sport—gearing up for a fight against a fighter from the underground scene, ryomen sukuna, who's known to have seedy connections and to not fight fair. his opponents often end up hospitalized, or mysteriously retiring after his matches—and there are rumours that some meet even more sinister fates.

and you show up at gojo's training gym one night, long after the rest of his team has gone home and find him in the practice ring just laying on his back, his mitts tucked under his head like a pillow, asleep and totally at peace. you hesitate, not sure if you should disturb him, but eventually climb up onto the elevated platform of the ring. you slip through the ropes like you have a hundred—maybe a thousand—times before, and approach him quietly as not to wake him.

he strikes when you're within arm's reach, moving faster than you could ever hope to dodge even if you did anticipate it, and before you know it you're toppling down on top of him as he uses his body to break your fall—two strong arms cradling you to his bare chest.

"you weren't sleeping," you grumble into his neck sullenly, and you feel his chest lift with a laugh. "you tricked me."

"had to, otherwise you might've tried to run away." his hands pat down along your spine, then up over your shoulder blades, holding you tight. "couldn't risk that when you haven't been answering any of my calls."

he lets you pull away but only barely—just enough room to use his chest to push yourself up and look at him, but his hands on your hips keep you pinned in place where you straddle him. when you look down at him, at his pretty face and his bright eyes and the soft smile he always shows you, you feel like you might start crying again—just like the last time you were in this very gym a week prior. the gym whose route you could walk in your sleep, whose walls you have memorized with his name and trophies displayed proudly everywhere you look. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. the same way the crowds at his fights chant for him and his triumph.

gojo—a name as familiar to you as it is foreign. it's his, but it's not. because the boy below you, staring up at you with that same lovesick expression you've never seen waver, will never be anything to you but satoru. means everything to you as satoru.

"it's not too late," you whisper, reaching up with a shaking hand and running your fingertips along the blush that sits high on his cheeks. "you can still call off the fight, there's still time."

satoru's expression shifts for a moment, so brief you may have missed it if you didn't know him so well. there's a flash of something behind his eyes that reads unmistakably like guilt. he dons a facade of petulance to mask it, his lip pursing in an exaggerated pout.

"i can't believe my own good luck charm doesn't think i can win against some loser," he whines, turning his face and nosing against the palm that was cupping his cheek.

it's not true. you believe in satoru unwaveringly, you know his skill and his abilities. your faith in him is, and always has been, implicit. it's his opponent you don't trust.

it's what the fight might cost him, regardless of the outcome, that terrifies you.

"hey."

your eyes focus again, and you meet satoru's gaze below you. he lifts his hand, cupping yours—so much smaller in comparison—underneath as he holds your touch against his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

it's so impossibly still in the gym with everyone else gone, but everything about it is known to you. is wholly familiar. the dim fluorescents, the smell that lingers in the air, the hum of the fans, the sound of satoru's breath.

"stop worrying, okay?" he whispers against your skin, kissing your palm again to punctuate the request. "there's no way i'm gonna lose. i'm the strongest, after all."

and there's familiarity in those words too, since he's said them to you more times than you could ever hope to keep track of.

but this time they just don't seem to reassure you the same way.

[sednas]

I'LL MAKE IT, XXXXXXXXXXX - toji f. & shiu k.

THEM 😩

featuring: toji fushiguro x fem!reader x shiu kong

trigger warnings: threesome, oral (m receiving), slight humiliation theme, hard dom!toji, soft dom!shiu, dirty talk

“oh you want us to touch you? mmh I don't know if you deserve it sweet girl... what do you think shiu?” asked toji with a smile at the corner of his lips.

the other man hummed, extending his legs in his seat while smoking his cigarette. there was an obvious buldge between his legs, but he remained calm and unbothered.

the only one who looked hot and bothered was you, your naked body on display on the bed, both of your hands tied up to its frame.

“she seems pretty desperate, maybe we should just give it to her.”

toji arched a brow and got closer to you. you looked up at him, eyes full of need as you pulled at the ropes restraining your movements. the sorcerer killer took your chin in his hand, tilting your head so you were now looking at shiu.

“but look at her, can she handle both of us?”

the man smoking a cigarette smiled, finding your silence amusing, because you knew better, and right now, talking back to them was no use.

“I'm sure she can.”

toji snorted, clearly not convinced but he shrugged and slowly sat on the bed next to your trembling body. with his palm, he carresed your lower stomach while gently stroking your chest with his other hand.

you squirmed and whimpered toji's name and he took your chin in his hand again, tilting your head to the side so he could kiss you. it was passionate, but not gentle at all, his tongue brutally forcing your mouth open while you were still squirming, lifting your hips in the air with need.

as toji kissed you again roughly, you felt the mattress sink under someone's weight and you quickly felt shiu's hand run over your thighs, teasing you by caressing your skin with his fingertips.

“poor girl, she's soaked.” he whispered with false sympathy.

there was something so humiliating about them talking as if you weren't even there, as if you weren't dripping onto the sheets, heart pounding and mind slowly getting blown by toji's tongue. you moaned into his mouth when you felt shiu grazing your entrance with his knuckles, he was still barely touching you, and it was driving you crazy.

“please, touch me...” you pleaded as you broke the kiss with the sorcerer killer.

“don't you know good girls don't speak unless they're spoken to? if you can't follow basic rules what are we even supposed to do with you, mmh?” toji rasped in a dangerously low tone.

despite his smile, shiu gave you an apologetic look as toji stood up next to the bed and unbuckled his belt, you barely had time to mumble an apology before his cock was already pressed against your lips.

“I'll give you a good reason to open your mouth.”

you whimpered at his harsh tone, a few tears began to gather at the corners of your eyes and you slowly parted your lips, allowing his cock to slide into your mouth.

"I'm sorry darling, toji can be so mean sometimes..." shiu sighed, and you felt the breath of air on your pussy.

he freed your hands, probably out of pity and kissed your shoulders as you could feel toji's hard cock going in and out of your mouth, provoking lewd noises in the room, his big hand resting over your head to hold your hair in place and guide your face to his liking.

“she likes it. just look at her fucking pussy right now and you'll see how much she likes to be treated like a dirty slut.” toji growled through gritted teeth, sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he looked at you through his dark locks.

you suddenly felt two fingers spreading your pussy lips apart, revealing your spasming clit and the juices dripping out of you. shiu blew air on it once more and you tried to squirm away, but toji held you in place with a firm hand, you couldn't go anywhere.

“oh you're right, she's dripping everywhere, it's almost painful to watch.”

toji fucked your mouth harder while shiu removed his pants, freeing his hard cock and getting between your legs.

“fuck her. whores like her don't need any prep.” toji ordered, tightening his grip on your hair.

shiu hummed and gave your hips gentle strokes, pressing the tip against your folds, your wetness coating his cock. he didn't have to force it, his cock slid inside within a second and you moaned around toji's, trying with all your might not to lose your mind at the feeling.

shiu began to move slowly, contrasting with the speed at which toji was pounding his hips, his balls slapping against your chin. with tears now streaming down your cheeks, toji admired you from above as if you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

“... so fucking good...” shiu muttered, grabbing your inner thighs to spread them further apart, sinking deeper into you.

toji abruptly removed himself from your mouth, allowing you to breathe properly and moan as much as you wanted. his hand moved to your clit and began rubbing it with his thumb as shiu roamed your insides, pushing on your g-spot with each thrust.

“does it feel good sweetheart? you want to cum? do you need it so bad?” teased toji as he grabbed one of your hands to make you pump his cock.

you nodded thoughtlessly, eyes unfocused, shifting to toji's face to where shiu and you were both connected.

“I wanna cum please, need both of your cum...” you moaned as your legs began to shake.

“she's asking so sweetly toji... maybe we should give her what she wants...?” panted shiu and toji smiled.

you smeared his precum on your hand and felt both their cocks twitch. you lifted your head, looking at toji through your lashes and saw his hips stutter against your hand. they were so close too.

“please...” you begged a second time as your eyes rolled back.

your pleading voice unlocked something deep inside both men, they gave each other a look and shiu fucked you harder, making your body jolt under his thrusts.

“fuck okay, you're ready shiu?” asked toji breathlessly.

he rubbed your clit faster as shiu pushed on your g-spot again and again, roughly rubbing that place until it was deliciously painful and you finally came in a loud cry, your back arching and your free hand gripping the sheets.

toji grunted, releasing his load all over your face and chest as shiu pulled out to smear his cum on your belly and thighs as they both let out a satisfied sigh.

you lay breathless and covered in their semen, heart rushing to your ears as your body was still twitching, toji held your hand in his and gently stroked its back with his thumb, while shiu gave you reassuring caresses.

“don't fall asleep now sweetheart, we still have a lot of things to show you...” toji laughed darkly, and you shuddered.

the night was far from being over.

jjk masterlist

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Lip Gloss (Lucifer x Reader Drabble)

A/N: I was inspired to write this based on this Hello Kitty apple flavored lip gloss that I saw yesterday. I was tempted to buy it lol. Also I'm just getting back into writing, so it may be a bit choppy teehee

Warnings: Slightly sexual, the use of the word apple way too many times...Lucifer may be a little ooc?

If there was one thing that Lucifer loved, it was ducks. But if there was a second thing that Lucifer absolutely adored, it would be apples. Since you have known Lucifer, he has always been obsessed with integrating apples in your daily lives. From his coat that he wears everyday down to the small engravings in the wood framing of your shared bed, apples were everywhere. All of his favorite foods consisted of some type of apple, whether it be apple fritters or apple pie. He had apple themed pajamas, apple themed silverware, apple themed pillows even. The man was completely obsessed. 

So that’s why you should not have been surprised with your current situation. Pressed up against the wall with hands pinned above your head, you were face to face with Lucifer. His pupils resembled a solar eclipse, strands of his platinum blond hair sticking up wildly. 

Both of you guys were supposed to have met with Charlie and Vaggie for a nice dinner at Ozzie’s thirty minutes ago. While getting ready you had complimented your look with a new apple flavored lip gloss that you had gotten out of amusement a few days prior. With as affectionate Lucifer was, you knew that he would like the new addition, but you were unaware of how feral it would make him. 

Just as you were heading out, Lucifer brought you in for a sweet kiss; it was something he did on autopilot, a small display of his endless love; however, once his lips tasted the crisp apple flavor, he almost melted. 

Thus, your wall predicament. 

“Your lips taste like apples…” Lucifer mumbled, his voice making the statement almost sound like a question. His gaze was focused on your now smudged lips. 

“I-I, well…I bought it f-from that new store and it was cute, and I know how much you love apples b-but I didn’t think…” Your stuttering trailed off as a smirk stretched across his porcelain skin, his tongue peaking through and wiping away the remnants of the gloss on his lips.

You tried to look away from the sinful eroticism on display, face completely flushed. “Shouldn’t we, um, go? We’re already-” 

But before you could finish your thought, Lucifer had pressed his lips to yours. The grip he had over your hands tightened as he nibbled your bottom lip, the apple flavored gloss long lost.

You were fully consumed, bodies ablaze as you leaned in impossibly close to him. While Lucifer had a long list of talents and skills, his ability to make you feel alive despite your dwindling breath, to erase the past and future and tethering you distinctly to the present, had to be one of his greatest. It was just you. It was just him. 

A small whimper escaped his throat as your hands escaped from his grasp, finding purchase in his hair. His hands shakily roamed your body, leaving a trail of electricity that caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter in your lower regions. 

As Lucifer pulled away - eyes dilated and jacket crinkled - he looked dazed, the same way he appeared in the early mornings. The smirk that was thickly painted on his face was replaced with a goofy smile. 

How dare this man steal your breath away and look so innocent afterwards? 

“Oh golly, we're going to be late! We needed to be there 40 minutes ago!” Lucifer exclaimed as he looked at his wrist. 

You patted yourself down, trying to smooth down your hair and fix your also wrinkled clothes. “It’s almost as if I tried telling you that 10 minutes ago” You teased. 

Lucifer laughed as he lightly reached for your hand. “Well, I mean, did you really expect me to contain myself when your lips tasted that good?” 

[bunnywritesjunk]

Hiiii love got sent here by a lil birdie that told me you can fulfill my ghost x hybrid bunny reader request here 🥹💀💗

Honestly wanna know how ghost would handle a bratty bunny that’s going through heat, but is too stubborn to go to him about, when seriously he’s alway down to tame that insatiable lil beast inside of heerrr 😋🤞🏽

Thank you so much for writing anything period, seriously. 🐰💗

Hello my fellow bunny. I had a lot of fun writing this. I'll probably do more hybrid reader stuff if people request it. I feel like Ghost would be a bit of a meanie in this situation, he's a brat tamer for sure. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Heat, helping through heat, unprotected sex, Hybrid!reader, edging, bratty reader.

A helping Hand

Your ears twitched as the sun poured in through the window. You sat up in your cot rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You sat up, your pajama shirt sticking to your bedding with pools of sweat. You padded off to your bathroom immediately hopping in the shower. Dull cramps in your lower stomach made you groan.

“Oh, not now. Please.” You pleaded with your biology.

You've been taking suppressants for your heat ever since you moved to this base. You gave your body a break and went off suppressants when you were on leave but this time something or someone had triggered your heat. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who it is. Being a weapons mechanic meant you didn't have to be around people very often. As long as a certain someone wasn't here you should be ok. You finished your cold shower and got dressed for the day. You tucked your ears under a cap and hid your tail in your pants. Although there were other hybrids on base, you didn't exactly want to display your rabbit features everywhere. You walked quickly to your station, avoiding any soldiers that might come your way.

You entered the weapons room and got to work. You had a few gun inspections to do. The real work wouldn't come until Ghost and his squadron came back from their mission. They were scheduled to arrive in two days, but you prayed it took them longer than that. Ghost would smell your heat, the embarrassment of having to ask him was too much. You weren't some needy bunny, you can handle your heat alone. After a few inspections were done you wrote up your paperwork for them the be cleaned and handed out for the next mission. Being engrossed in work took your mind off your impending heat.

First, you smelled him. The faint scent of Ghost. No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet. He slammed open the door unceremoniously placing all his weapons on the nearby table. Crap you kept your head down and hoped the smell of gunpowder covered your heat.

“Miss me, bunny?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. His wolf tail had a slight wag to it.

“You're back early, how was the mission?”

“Easy, mostly recon.” He sighed.

You gestured at the guns he put down. “I'll get those checked out for you.”

Ghost walked up to the counter you were behind and leaned on it.

“You had lunch yet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Come on then.” He headed toward the door.

“I'm not that hungry, you can go without me.” You didn't meet his eyes.

“Hmm.” He slowly walked behind the weapons counter blocking the only exit.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, why would there be anything wrong?” You shrugged.

He leaned down to your level, his eyes peeking at you through blonde eyelashes. You backed up as far as you could only able to get a few more inches away from him.

“You're not a very good liar, bunny.” He stood up to his full height and walked out, leaving you flustered and hot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Your heat intensified after Ghost paid his visit. It came over you in waves, almost causing you to double over at times. You considered asking him for help many times but ultimately decided against it. After work was done you practically ran to your room. You'd already asked your supervisor if you could have the next few days off, explaining the situation. You opened the door and shut it quickly behind you before shedding your clothes off. Your tail ached from being hidden all day. Your fuzzy ears stretched out, one stayed straight up and the other folded down. You flopped down onto your bed eager to use your toys.

You reached into the drawer on your bedside table, only to find nothing. You sat up and searched frantically. Where did you put them? This is bad. You looked under your bed, in your bathroom, in your dresser, nothing. The frustration started getting to you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked. Your feet thumped in anger every time you looked and they weren't there. As you checked your bathroom for the third time a knock sounded at your door. You grabbed your robe as you were only in underwear and slipped it on. You stomped to the door and wiped your tears before opening it.

A skull mask was staring down at you. Ghost held up a familiar velvet bag and leaned on your doorframe.

“Looking for something?”

You reached up to grab the bag but he kept it out of reach.

“Give it to me, Simon!” You whined.

He pushed himself off the door and into your room closing the door behind him. The blonde shaggy tail wagged lazily behind him, clearly amused by your distress.

“Now, why didn't my bunny come to me for help?” He asked.

Your ears folded down against your head in embarrassment. “I don't need your help.”

He walked past you and put your toys back in the bedside drawer. He started taking off his gloves.

“Ok, thank you for returning them, you can leave now.” You said.

He placed his gloves on the nightstand. He turned to you, his eyes darkened. He stalked toward you slowly almost as if he was ready to pounce. You looked away from him but held your ground. He towered over you and tilted his head.

“You always were a little brat huh?” His words annoyed you.

Before you can give him a rebuttal he took his mask off giving you a full view of his scarred face. He grabbed your jaw roughly contrasting the gentle kiss he gave you. His tongue caressed your mouth open. Your knees weakened as he pulled you flush against his body by your waist. Your heat urged your body to submit, but your mind wasn't there yet. You pulled away breathlessly. He still had a firm hold on the side of your face.

“I don't need your help, Simon.” You said once again quietly.

Simon's golden ear twitched in annoyance. “Right.”

He picked you up by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to your bed, embarrassment written on your face. He laid you down on the bed, pressing his hips into yours. You whimpered at the friction he created. He leaned down to nibble and suck your neck making you squirm. His hand made its way past your robe and into your panties with ease. Your wetness made it easy for him to dip his fingers into you. You gasped at the intrusion, practically melting into the mattress.

“Don't need my help, but you're so wet for me, Bunny.”

“I bet you were gonna think of me anyway.” Simon purred into your ear.

You moaned weakly as he worked his finger into you, his thumb circling your clit gently. His nose grazed your own, taking in the look of ecstasy on your face. Your orgasm came quickly and with force. Simon knew exactly what buttons to push to get you shivering under him. He unsheathed his fingers from you and popped them in his mouth, tasting your slick.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded.

“ I...Simon..." You whined.

“Tell me, Bunny.”

You covered your face muffling your words.

“I can't hear you, love. Speak up.”

“Please help me.....through my heat....”

“That's more like it." He purred.

He opened your robe and slid your panties off. In his haste, he ripped them a bit and you whined. You ignored your small protest and worked on your bra removing it expertly.

“I'll buy you some new ones.” He said quickly.

Ghost shed his clothing and flipped you over on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He tapped your hip.

You got on your knees arching your back deeply to present yourself to him. You wiggled your ass eager to have him inside you. He used a hand to steady your hips and slid his tip in between your folds. He slowly pushed himself into savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

“Ohh, you feel so good, Bunny.” He growled.

You were almost incoherent, the daze of your heat clouding your mind. You pushed your hips against his trying to get more friction. Simon bottomed out into you and started thrusting into you hard. He kept his pace slow at first, slamming his hips into yours. His tip grazed your cervix in a deliciously painful way. You whimpered every time it did. As his pace sped up, Simon's sighs turned into grunts and moans. He enjoyed watching your fluffy bunny tail bounce as he rammed into you.

“You take me so well.” The praise he gave you made your walls flutter.

He reached around your leg to rub your clit. Your moans got more desperate and guttural as your second orgasm approached. He slowed his movements ever so slightly to drag your pleasure out longer.

“I wanna cum Si, Please.” You whined.

“Only when I tell you, Bunny. You know the rules.” He grunted out.

“And since you didn't come to me first, you need a little bit of a punishment hmm?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

His thrust slowed, still keeping them firm. His hips slapped against your ass rhythmically. Your moans got higher pitched, his edging did a number on your heat-ridden body. Your legs trembled underneath you, the stimulation becoming more intense by the second. Luckily he didn't torture you for long.

“Cum for me.”

Simon's pace sped up and you came almost instantly. Your vision was fuzzy as you collapsed onto the bed. He bent down and caressed your head as you recovered from your orgasm. Simon rubbed your ear lovingly.

“I'm not done with you, Bunny.”

[dolcejwnie]

INK MY HEART. Y. JUNGWON

synopsis: a lost bet leads you to flirt with your local tattoo artist yang jungwon.

warning: none

genre: tattoo artist! jungwon x reader, fluffy, awkward reader, kinda flirty jungwon

remember to reblog and like for more content!

the bet was lost in a haze of laughter and drinks, leaving you standing awkwardly outside a tattoo shop, heart racing with nerves. you had to flirt with the tattoo artist—a stranger whose name you didn't even know.

taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door, the bell chiming softly above your head. the shop was dimly lit, filled with the buzz of tattoo machines and the scent of ink.

your eyes fell on him immediately—a tall, lean figure with an array of tattoos peeking out from beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Jungwon, the tattoo artist – you read on the label on his shirt.

"hi there," you managed to squeak out, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. the words felt like a clumsy stumble out of your mouth, tripping over nerves and uncertainty. as they hung in the air, you couldn't help but cringe inwardly at how awkward you must sound.

in that moment, a flurry of thoughts raced through your mind like a whirlwind. should you have said something different? was "hi there" too casual, too hesitant? would Jungwon think you were a complete fool for stumbling over such a simple greeting?

your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the sound of blood rushing in your ears drowning out all other noise. you cursed yourself for not being more composed, more charming—like the confident flirt you had imagined yourself to be in this scenario.

but as you stole a glance at Jungwon, you found yourself momentarily frozen by the intensity of his gaze. his eyes, dark and enigmatic, seemed to hold a silent promise of understanding, as if he could sense the whirlwind of nerves and emotions raging within you.

heat crept up your neck, suffusing your cheeks with a deep crimson blush. you wished you could disappear into the floor, escape the suffocating embarrassment that seemed to cling to you like a second skin.

"smooth," you chided yourself inwardly, mentally kicking yourself for your lack of grace. you had imagined this flirtatious encounter a thousand times in your head, rehearsing witty lines and charming smiles. and yet, when faced with the reality of the moment, all those practiced words seemed to evaporate into thin air.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. He seemed to sense your nerves, but instead of easing them, he leaned against the counter, looking amused.

"what can I do for you?" he asked, his voice smooth and enticing.

you fumbled for words, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for being there. "uh, i, um... i heard you're the best," you blurted out, mentally cringing at your lack of subtlety.

Jungwon chuckled softly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "flattery won't get you everywhere," he replied, gesturing for you to take a seat.

panic set in as you realized you hadn't even thought about what tattoo you wanted. you glanced around the shop, your eyes landing on a display of intricate silk designs.

"I-I want a silk tattoo," you blurted out, feeling your palms grow sweaty.

Jungwon arched an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. " silk tattoo, huh? any particular design in mind?"

your mind went blank, the pressure mounting as Jungwon patiently waited for an answer. and then, without thinking, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"a small book," you said, gesturing to your ankle. "right there."

Jungwon's lips twitched with amusement as he prepared his equipment. "a book, it is," he said, his voice teasing.

the tattoo chair felt more like a throne of nerves as you settled into it, Jungwon's skilled hands preparing to ink your skin. your heart raced wildly in your chest, and you cursed your luck for getting yourself into this situation.

as Jungwon began to sketch the outline of the small book on your ankle, you found yourself struggling to come up with anything coherent to say.

the tattoo machine buzzed softly in the background, its rhythmic hum filling the air. each buzz sent a jolt of nerves through you, the sound echoing in your ears like a relentless drumbeat. anxiety twisted in the pit of your stomach, making it hard to focus on anything else. as Jungwon worked his magic, the sound of the ink pen seemed to grow louder, each stroke of the needle sending shivers down your spine. you couldn't help but wonder if Jake would ever believe the wild tale that was unfolding in the tattoo shop that night.

"uh, so, do you, uh, get a lot of people asking for silk tattoos?" you blurted out, mentally cringing at the awkwardness of your question.

Jungwon glanced up from his work, a small smile playing on his lips. "not as many as you'd think," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring. "but I have to say, you're the first to ask for a book."

you flushed hot with embarrassment, feeling like a fool for blurting out such a random request. "I, um, I like books," you muttered, your cheeks burning.

Jungwon chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "nothing wrong with that," he replied, his tone light and teasing.

"o-ow!" you exclaimed suddenly, more out of nerves than actual pain.

Jungwon paused, looking up at you with concern. "are you okay? Did that hurt?"

you shook your head quickly, feeling foolish for overreacting. "n-no, I'm fine. just... nervous, i guess."

Jungwon's touch was like a soothing balm on your frayed nerves, the warmth of his hand seeping through your skin and calming the storm of anxiety within you. as he squeezed your leg reassuringly, you felt a rush of comfort wash over you, his gentle gesture a silent promise of support.

"you're doing great," his voice, soft and encouraging, whispered in your ear, barely audible over the hum of the tattoo machine. the tension in your muscles eased at his words, and you found yourself relaxing into the chair, surrendering to the moment.

a nervous smile tugged at your lips as you met Jungwon's gaze, finding warmth and understanding in his eyes. "th-thanks," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. heat rushed to your cheeks, coloring them a rosy hue that you were sure Jungwon could see.

his eyes crinkled at the corners as he returned your smile, a silent reassurance that filled you with a sense of ease. in that moment, with Jungwon's hand still resting gently on your leg, you felt a flutter of something unfamiliar yet exhilarating stirring within you.

it was a mixture of nervous anticipation and a budding attraction, the kind that made your heart race and your stomach flutter with butterflies. you couldn't deny the warmth spreading through you at Jungwon's touch, the way his presence seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of safety and comfort.

as the tattooing continued, each stroke of the needle sending a jolt of sensation through your skin, you found yourself stealing glances at Jungwon whenever you dared. his focused expression, the way his eyes crinkled in concentration, the faint hint of a smile playing on his lips—it all added to the growing flutter in your chest.

and when Jungwon's hand brushed against yours as he adjusted his position, a jolt of electricity shot through you, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. it was a fleeting touch, innocent yet charged with unspoken possibilities, leaving you craving more.

lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself drawn to Jungwon in ways you couldn't quite explain. his presence was a comforting anchor in the midst of your swirling thoughts and emotions, grounding you in the here and now.

but as the tattooing neared its end, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of Jungwon's touch leaving your skin. the warmth of his hand, the gentle reassurance in his voice—they had become a lifeline in this whirlwind of nerves and anticipation.

and when the final stroke of the needle marked the completion of the tattoo, you couldn't suppress the sigh of both relief and regret that escaped your lips. Jungwon's hand lingered for a moment longer, the warmth of his touch searing into your skin, before he withdrew with a gentle smile.

as you sat there, heart still racing and cheeks flushed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of loss at the absence of Jungwon's touch.

"okay, all done," Jungwon announced finally, wiping away the excess ink. "take a look."

you leaned forward eagerly, your heart pounding in your chest. snd there it was—the small book tattooed beautifully on your ankle, its pages fluttering delicately in the imaginary breeze.

"it's perfect," you breathed, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside you.

Jungwon grinned, a proud glint in his eyes. "glad you think so," he replied, his voice soft.

as you admired the tattoo, a comfortable silence settled over the room. you couldn't help but steal glances at Jungwon, admiring the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light, the way his tattooed arms flexed with every movement.

"um, so, what now?" you asked, suddenly realizing that you didn't quite know what to do next.

Jungwon chuckled, a warm sound that made your heart flutter. "well, first you'll need to sign a few forms," he said, gesturing to the paperwork on the table. "and then... well, that's up to you."

you nodded, trying to focus on the paperwork as your mind raced with possibilities. but when you glanced up, you noticed something strange on the receipt Jungwon handed you.

"wait a minute," you said, furrowing your brow in confusion. "what's this?"

Jungwon leaned in, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "that," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "is my number."

your eyes widened in surprise, a surge of excitement coursing through you. "y-your number?"

Jungwon winked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "in case you ever need a touch-up," he replied, his voice teasing.

before you could respond, Jungwon was already moving on to his next client, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a piece of paper burning a hole in your pocket.

as you stepped out into the bustling city, the tattoo on your ankle felt like a secret, a reminder of the unexpected and thrilling encounter with Jungwon. and as you pulled out the piece of paper with his number, a smile tugged at your lips.

[moonydoodlez]

ok the art you sent me has me spiraling but imagine getting it on with alastor maybe hes a little pissy or whatever so he’s extremely in the mood to bite EVERYWHERE and i think we all know its not weak little bites its hard bites especially if hes in a bad mood and definitely hard enough to draw blood and then be starts swiping that blood up with his finger coating them with your blood and drawing little smiles (especially smiles its literally alastor) and hearts all over especially on the readers face

My Painting

Pairing: Alastor x F!reader

Warnings: Alastor being horny and lowkey a vampire, accidental housewife kink oops, if you hate blood dont read this

Word count: 765

There wasn't much light shining through the windows anymore as you sat on the counter waiting for Alastor. You took in the smell of the home baked muffins in the oven as you looked out the window as the sun set. The front door slammed shut making you jump off the counter and you waited patiently for him to notice you standing there. He finally walked into the spot where a little bit of light shined on him. You took in his disheveled clothes with rips and the light traces of blood across his whole body.

“Well how was your day?” You joked as you looked him up and down turning on the overhead light so you could get a better look at him.

He rolled his eyes, muttering to himself. Something about some evil tv man and how he wants to kill him so badly. You stared at him with a soft smile as he continued muttering to himself. He looked like a child who was told no for the first time as he began pacing around.

“Hon” You say, getting his attention as he finally took you in. An apron hugged your waist as you wore a white baby tee that stuck to every curve of your body and jean shorts. He smirked, taking long strides toward you.

He pushed you against the kitchen counter as he stared down at you like you were his prey. His hands slowly wrapped around yours as he pinned them behind your back leaning down to gently bite your earlobe.

“God look at my little housewife” His staticy voice said, breaking the silence that had previously been there. His hands let go of your wrists but instead he set a firm grip on your hips. “I didn't even know you had this,” He said, pulling at the strings that tied the apron behind your back. It slowly fell as your tight clothes were now on full display for him.

“Well usually i'm done cooking by the time you come home my love” You say as you move your hands to the belt loops on his pants moving him flush against your body. “But maybe I should wear it more often” You smirk, staring up at him. 

His eyes darkened as he brought his mouth down to your neck. It started out slow and sensual. His lips moving slowly nipping softly as he moved down your neck to your chest. The more you whimpered and withered under his touch he not only sped up but he began to bite harder. Finally as he reached your neck again he bit down hard. You moaned loudly bucking your hips into his as he bit down like a starved man

“Alastor jesus” You whimper as he backs away smiling watching the blood run down your neck. Instead of cleaning it up he bit down again on the other side of your neck. Blood began to spill down as you winced at the pain. You could feel it dripping down, you couldn’t tell if you were grossed out or incredibly turned on. Maybe both. 

The blood had finally reached your white shirt. “Oh no, my little housewife is a little dirty” He said sarcastically as he ripped it off your body leaving your top half naked as he stared intently as the blood spilled down your chest.

His hands reached up grabbing your boobs as the blood smeared across his hand and your chest. You could tell he had an idea as a sinister smile formed across his lips. He began to trace his name in your blood and many other vulgar words across your neck and chest as he continued biting to make more paint for his beautiful painting.

He soaked his fingers in the blood and made little smiley faces across your chest. You giggled as he drew little pictures in your blood. “I'm running out of blood” He pouted. 

Before you could even react to his words he was biting deeply into your skin causing you to yelp in pain. That was definitely leaving a scar or some sort of mark. Instead of light dribbles of blood it gushed out as he grabbed more blood and began to paint small hearts on your face. He looked you in the eyes as he licked one long strip across his whole hand, your blood now dripping down his chin as he sucked the blood off his fingers. 

“My beautiful little painting” He says before leaning in kissing you hard. The taste of his spit and your blood lingering in your mouth.

Masterlist Alastor Masterlist

[runninriot]

(Un)Used

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

week 2 prompts: backseat, bruise, soft and slow | rated: E | wc: 2.770 | tags: self-worth issues, eddie is a mess, steve takes care of him, blow job, hand job, anal sex, emotional hurt/comfort, implied strangers to lovers | also on ao3

Eddie's not used to this. Or only part of it.

Because the feeling is oddly familiar and yet, everything about it is different.

It's the harshness that resonates in his body like a well-known song; rough fingers digging deep into tender flesh, nails leaving crescent-shaped dents in burning skin. It's the pressure of a grip so tight it's sure to leave bruises, Eddie recognises like an old friend.

But there’s more. Things he doesn’t know how to name, how to take.

Eddie shivers in violent ecstasy, his movements out of control, nerve endings set ablaze with every touch and every whisper. Every last bit of sanity lost to a sensation that's so new, so wrong, so good, so contrary to everything his body has become accustomed to.

What he knows is the ache, the unnatural twist of his limbs when he's being held down in the backseat of someone's car, fucked mercilessly on the side of the road or at the far end of an empty parking lot in the dark of the night.

What he's used to, is offering his body to nameless faces and hands that take more than he should let them. More than he should be willing to give.

What Eddie thought is the way it always is - the same experience each time, the same self-hatred that holds his soul captive, the same nasty aftertaste of unkind words and bitter relief - suddenly seems to break and crumble under the lightness, the care, the dignity offered to him like a gift he doesn't deserve.

   "So beautiful," the voice above him whispers, sounds like it shares a secret with him about him. Like there’s something in him that’s worth flaunting, spread out on a bed covered in soft sheets, bathed in comforting light, put on display for his admirer to look at. For him to be seen.

It's scary.

And not for the first time tonight, Eddie tries to hide, to cover his eyes with his arm, to turn around and bury his face in the pillow below.

But Steve doesn't let him.

Steve, whose fingers are everywhere, tracing blemished skin that covers the body that houses a broken soul. Unearthing buried fears and insecurities, laying them all out on the surface, marking his findings with kisses like he’s putting his name on each one of them. Not to claim ownership but to make something new, take what’s damaged and give it new purpose, new life.

   “Can’t believe how lucky I am,” the voice whispers sweetly, tickles the sensitive skin on his neck.

   “Steve, please!”

It’s all Eddie can answer, all he can offer, all he can think. Just this one name on repeat, like a prayer, over and over, because there is nothing else left on his mind.

   “I know, baby, I know.”

Steve’s words are supposed to be soothing, the low vibration of his voice should be comforting but how is Eddie supposed to stay calm when Steve’s tongue is circling and licking his cock, teasing his slit, massaging his balls, leaving a trace of trickling spit on its way? Lips moving up and down and around, taking him in and out but never enough, never to finish what he started what feels like hours ago.

Eddie is on edge, has been since the moment Steve carried him here, laid him down on his bed, undressed him in slow motion, one piece at a time until he was left naked from his neck to his toes – no belt buckle left to press into bent thighs, no shirt crumpling up around his chest, just his pure, bare skin, pale and inked. Left with nothing to hide behind, to obscure the vision.

He’s never felt so vulnerable in his life, can’t remember anyone ever looking at him like Steve does. Intense and focused, like he’s trying to memorise every part of him. Smiling, like he enjoys the view, like he likes what he sees.

Steve’s mouth is back on his – when did he stop sucking his cock? Eddie can still feel him down there, the lingering touch of his lips but he can taste himself now on the other man’s tongue when it licks deep inside.

   “Can I fuck you, baby?” Steve asks when they part and Eddie blinks slowly at him.

Why is he asking? Wasn’t this the plan all along? Isn’t it common knowledge that Eddie is easy, always free to be used.

   “Please,” Eddie sighs, or maybe he moans, or maybe he doesn’t say anything at all because Steve is still looking at him with questioning eyes.

   “Fuck me, Steve,” he tries again, more demanding this time, needs to speed this up because-

Because the sooner Steve comes, the sooner Eddie can go home to lick his wounds, allow himself to fall to pieces, maybe cry in the shower, then smoke himself numb. And tomorrow, he can pick up the pieces of a heart torn to shreds.

It’s the same every time and yet, this time, it’s worse.

Because Steve isn’t nameless, Steve isn’t anyone, Steve isn’t anything like those other guys, the ones on the hunt for nothing but a hole to sink in.

Steve kisses him, touches him greedy but gentle – and that makes him so much more dangerous.

Eddie knows selfishness, knows how to make himself small, how to bend into the perfect shape to be used.

What he doesn’t know, is kindness and light-hearted giggles and praise.

This adoration in Steve’s eyes hurts because it creates an illusion of how things could be if someone would care. If someone would want Eddie for more than just a quick, hard fuck.

It’s an illusion he can’t allow himself to let take root in his mind, or worse, in his heart. Can’t allow it to shine light on the darkness inside, make warmth where he’s cold, make soft where he’s turned to stone.

Eddie isn’t destined to be loved. Never has been, never will be.

So with a bit of relief but also a lot of regret, Eddie feels like his breathing finally slows when Steve moves to kneel between his thighs, one hand still connected to his skin while he leans over to grab a condom and lube.

This is the part Eddie knows.

Without thinking, without asking Steve how he wants him, Eddie lifts himself up on trembling arms, moves to turn around. On his hands and knees Eddie finally recognises his own body and it feels like a spell had been lifted from his foggy mind.

With his head bowed down and his back arched, arms bent at the elbows and his legs spread wide, Eddie waits.

And waits.

And-

startles but somehow instantly relaxes when he feels Steve’s warm palms on his shoulders, gliding down his back in slow strokes, resting on his hips where he grips him tight.

Eddie doesn’t know what happens, suddenly finds himself flat on his back again, Steve looming over him, looking down with a mix of confusion and worry that makes Eddie squirm nervously.

   “Nu-uh, baby. Want you to be comfortable. I want to see you. Can’t kiss you when you’re hiding your pretty face.”

Steve words slice through him like a blade, make something hot run through his veins – pain and desire, a mix of vile things and sunshine – knocking all the air out of Eddie’s lungs with a moan so desperate, so needy.

   “Steve, oh God, please just-“

    Take me. Fuck me. Use me.

The words get stuck in his throat when he sucks in a shocked breath.

   “Fuck!” Eddie cries out, lost in the feeling of Steve’s lube slicked thumb rubbing over his rim in circles.

   “Relax, baby. Gonna take it easy, wanna make you feel so good.”

Before Eddie can protest, Steve’s mouth is back on his cock, lips closed around the head while he flicks his tongue around in the same, agonising motion that drove Eddie insane before.

It’s too much to take in, too many sensations at once, with Steve sinking deeper on Eddie’s hardness, inch per throbbing inch, while the tip of his thumb prods at his entrance, slow and soft and so very careful. The contrast of Steve’s greedy mouth swallowing him down and the gentleness of his finger pushing slowly inside, causes a short circuit in Eddie’s brain.

All he can do is whine and whimper, helplessly stammering useless pleas through parted lips. Steve’s name is the only thing keeping him tied to the here and now as Eddie slowly loses himself to the feeling, lets himself go, allows himself to be given wave after wave of coiling pleasure when Steve’s two fingers deep.

Suddenly, something rips through Eddie like his insides are made of exploding fireworks, when Steve hits that bundle of nerves no one had ever bothered to find before.

   “Steve, oh god, I-“

The warning dies on his tongue when he comes with a cry, filling Steve’s mouth with his release, coming hard and hot down his throat.

Steve swallows roughly, like he’s trying to keep it all in. It’s too much, Eddie can feel it, his lips slick with cum and saliva, dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin where he hovers above Eddie’s middle.

He doesn’t stop, though. Keeps going. Keeps thrusting his fingers while sucking on Eddie’s softening cock and Eddie wants to cry, needs him to stop, wants to beg him to keep going forever.

It’s a sensation unlike any he’s ever experienced before.

This, Eddie thinks, is what it must feel like to come from actual pleasure and not just from giving into his body’s natural impulse, what it feels like to drift, to fly, to be high on adrenaline and serotonin and whatever fucking hormones make him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Finally, Steve releases his spent cock, slick fingers slowing their movement before they pull out completely, leaving Eddie’s stretched hole empty and clenching around nothing.

And he wants to complain, wants to tell him to ‘come back, come here, need you inside, need you, please!’ but it’s hard to breathe, let alone think, so instead he whines and blindly searches for Steve’s hand to hold.

   “I got you, baby. I’m right here.”

Eddie feels like jelly, like molten wax in Steve’s hands when he grabs him by his legs and bends his knees and pulls him up and-

   “Tell me if it’s too much and I stop.”

-pushes the head of his cock into the waiting heat of Eddie’s body, slowly, so fucking slowly and careful.

For a moment, Eddie isn’t sure if it’s really happening or if it is maybe just wishful thinking. But as his mind slowly drifts back to earth and his surroundings come back into focus, as he begins to feel his own body again, he realises he isn’t just making this up.

He can feel the way his muscle stretches around Steve’s cock, pushing in and pulling back out, deeper inside with every forward movement of his hips.

It’s heavenly torture, the way Steve takes his time, lets Eddie adjust to the feeling, gives just a bit at a time. And it drives Eddie wild, makes him feral with want for ‘more, more, deeper, please!’

But Steve doesn’t waver, keeps up with the tormenting pace until finally, with one more thrust, he’s buried balls deep.

   “Fuck, baby! Ah, feels so good. So tight around me.”

If Eddie wasn’t busy moaning like a bitch in heat, he’d laugh at those words. Feels like crying at the notion of him being anything other than used-up and sloppy, a worn-out object, frayed at the edges, torn apart by too many before.

   “So tight, so perfect. And all just for me.”

He says it like he means it and something inside Eddie shifts. Warmth spreads from his chest in every other part of his body, through flesh and bone, settles in every cell, something that makes him feel new, different, other. He feels like drowning, like with every thrust, Steve pushes him deeper into a sea of light.

Submerged in sunshine, surrounded by white noise, Eddie lets himself fall.

He’s so lost, he doesn’t even notice the way his own cock is straining hard against his belly, leaking at the tip, making a mess where it throbs with every snap of Steve’s hips. The rhythm is soothing, harder now than it was before but steady, pushing deep, filling him with a pleasure that feels like something else, something holy, something he doesn’t know how he ever existed without.

Eddie floats, sinks, dies.

And comes back alive when his second orgasm hits even harder than the first, hits him the moment Steve cries out his name like he’s calling for God.

Out of breath and visibly exhausted, Steve can barely keep himself up on his trembling arms, but he still leans down to capture Eddie’s mouth in a feverish kiss.

   “So perfect,” Steve whispers again and this time, he agrees.

   “Thank you”, Eddie answers before he closes his eyes.

-----

Eddie doesn’t know how much time has passed. It felt like he only blinked, maybe rested his heavy lids for a minute or two. Or maybe five.

But when he opens his eyes again, he finds himself cleaned up and covered by a soft blanket, curled up next to Steve, head resting on the other man’s chest.

When he lifts his head to look up, Steve is already looking back at him, a beautiful smile on his lips.

   “There you are. How do you feel?”

The question should be easy enough to answer, but somehow Eddie struggles to find the right words.

Because how can he explain to a man he only met tonight, that he’s never felt better. That he can’t remember a single time his body hadn’t felt like he’d been run over by a bus after being fucked.

That no one ever managed or let alone tried to make Eddie come twice.

That here, in Steve’s arms, Eddie feels safe.

None of these answers seem right, feel too heavy, too loaded with memories. Years of putting up with undeserving strangers suddenly come crashing down on him and Eddie only realises he’s crying when Steve wipes at a tear with his thumb.

   “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I-“

Eddie shakes his head immediately, doesn’t want Steve to think even for one second that he’s done something wrong. If anything, Steve showed Eddie how much better his life could’ve been if he hadn’t resigned so early in life. If he hadn’t given himself up, treating his own body like trash – why would anyone treat him better than he treats himself?

Except, Steve did. Showed him what gentle touch feels like. What it’s like to be kissed while being taken apart. How wonderful it can be not to rush, to draw out every part of this wondrous game, how beautiful this act can be, how soft, how uplifting and rewarding.

   “Happy,” is all Eddie can say, breath hitching when he tries to swallow another sob trying to break free.

   “So those are happy tears?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear the concern in his voice.

He nods, stops, shakes his head again, stops, huffs out a frustrated laugh.

   “I’m happy. You made me happy. But I’m sad because-“

Because what? Because he can’t have this forever? Can’t stay here to rest in Steve’s arms all night? Can’t come back for more?

   “You don’t have to tell me right now. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow? Only if you want.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his heart skips a beat.

   “T-tomorrow?” he repeats unbelieving.

   “Mhm,” Steve hums, while he pulls Eddie closer, “tomorrow. Because everything is better after a good night’s sleep, and a hot shower, and a proper breakfast.”

   “You- you want me to stay for breakfast?”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes as if Eddie just said something stupid.

   “Right now, I just want to hold you, if that’s okay?”

And before Eddie can answer, Steve turns off the light and covers the room in comfortable darkness. He kisses the top of his head, sighing contently as he sinks deeper into the mattress, taking Eddie with him, holding him tight in his warm embrace.

   “Promise you’ll stay the night?”

Eddie smiles, bites down a laugh when his mind offers ‘I’ll stay forever, if you let me’.

   “Promise,” he says instead, closes his eyes and lets the rhythm of Steve’s heart slowly lull him to sleep.

He’s not used to this part, to being held like something worth keeping.

But he hopes, believes, that one day he will be.

[goldsainz]

THE COOLEST DRIVER — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: when you introduced lando to your siblings, you didn’t think they would become so attached.

request: “Lando × reader. Your younger siblings who are 2 and 3 are crazy about Lando. Lando is amazing with them they don't like when you to hug/ kiss him Though. "No he's mine!" Your sister says as she pushes you away. When you go for a kiss. "My Lando time" your brother says. Snuggling into Lando. You find it adorable but annoying. Fans love it.”

warnings: im pretty sure that none

NOTE: thank you for requesting!!!! so this is short and sweet, and i also added a little smau at the end 🫶 i’m in my lando obsessed era. so if you suddenly see a lot of lando content posted, just let it be. silverstone grand prix has me so so excited, can’t wait… also fingers crossed lewis gets podium🤞

[ word count: 737 ]

Lando and you had been going out for quite some time now. It was as serious as a relationship could get, and evidently, he had met your family. 

It was no surprise when your siblings got obsessed with him and just about followed him everywhere. They wanted to go to every Grand Prix you went to, because if you could, why couldn't they? It took quite some time for them to understand that you were an adult, and as such could do what you pleased. 

Your brother adored Lando. He tuned in for every race and Lando quickly became his idol, even though he would never really say it out loud. Suddenly, he wanted to be a driver too. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help him out with his dream, and since he was so little, he could have a shot at doing it for a long time. 

Your sister however, seemed to like Lando in a completely different way. Whenever she saw Lando he would hug him while burying her face in his neck, hiding her smitten face. There was no way you could ever kiss or even be too close to Lando if she was present, not if you wanted to avoid the tantrum she would throw. Claiming Lando was hers, and that you were stealing him from her. 

Lando loved your siblings. It was refreshing to have such support from little humans, who idolised him and always got excited to see him. So it was no surprise when for this year’s Silverstone Grand Prix, his home race, he invited your whole family to the paddock.

When you broke the news to your siblings they ran to hug Lando, their excitement almost pushing him off balance as he attempted to hold both of them at the same time. It was a sight to behold, and you wished you would've gotten it on camera because it was just too precious. 

“Go pack your bags!” You told them, watching as they scrambled to their rooms.

“I can’t believe they are coming.” Lando says, one wrapped around your waist, pulling you in for a side hug.

“They can’t even believe it themselves.” 

You watched your parents talk with Lando over the schedule, all while holding you in his arms. They both couldn’t stop expressing their gratitude, and your boyfriend just repeated that it was his pleasure and there was nothing he would love more than having all of you there. 

His sweet words made your heart rush, and you turned to face him just for a quick peck since your parents were still around. You should have known what a bad idea that was, because all of a sudden your siblings appear in the room and they cannot hold in their disgust. 

“Ew!” Your brother shouted, covering his face with his little hands.

Your sister ran to push you off of Lando, not liking the sudden closeness. Your mother rolled her eyes at the dramatics your siblings loved to display. Lando just brushed off your mother’s concern, more amused at the reaction than anything. 

“Hey! We’re not going to Silverstone if you behave like that.” You tell them, you know you’re lying because there is no way you are not taking them. Not when you know how excited they are.

“No!” Your sister screeches, wrapping her arms around Lando’s leg as if to show how much she wants to go.

“Did you pack your bags?” Lando asks your sister, kneeling down to her level. 

“Yes.” She says, her voice muffled now that she has thrown her arms around him.

“And your brother?” 

“I think so.”

Your brother takes his hands off of his face the moment he hears he was mentioned. Moving to sit beside Lando, an annoyed look passes his face as he watches his sister.

“You excited to go to Silverstone?” Your boyfriend asks, knowing full well your brother is bursting at the seams of excitement. 

“Very!”

“Is there anyone you’re excited to meet?” 

“Lewis!” 

“Lewis?” Lando asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he hears the emotion on your brother’s voice. 

“He’s so cool!” 

“Is he?”

“Yes!” A giggle pushes its way past your brother’s lips, suddenly bashful at the admission.

“Cooler than me?”

“No, silly.” He says with an obvious tone, face palming himself as if the answer was obvious, “You’re the coolest driver ever!” 

“That’s what I like to hear!” 

[thelargefrye]

February Filth Fest : DAY TWO : CHEATING / CREAMPIE … mature one - shot

pairing : gangster!seongjoong x f!reader

genre : smut, high & low au, strangers to maybe lovers, pinch of angst if you squint

word count : 2.6k

warnings : language, cheating (your bf cheats on you so you cheat on him🤷‍♀️), so douche boyfriend, smoking, a little drinking, kind of fighting, little crying (but in a good way, promise)

smut warnings : unprotected sex, implied threesome, creampie, pet names (doll, princess)

honorary suffer tag : for my bestie braincell @sanjoongie

your boyfriend cheats on you, so you seek out the two most feared men in your district for revenge.

DAY ONE ↤ HiGH&LOW: MATZ ↦ DAY THREE

"you want us to do what?" seonghwa's eyes feel like they are piercing through your body as he stares down at you, eyebrow raised. you obviously surprised him, but he's too calculated to actually show that surprise. he's a feared leader within the sword distract, he can't afford to act surprised.

"i want you guys to help me get revenge on my boyfriend," you repeat yourself, showing him and his partner, hongjoong, that you are dead serious.

"revenge?" hongjoong says as he stands up to move towards you. he bends down to where you're eye level, an evil smirk overtaking his face. it makes you consider whether you should have even come here, but you can't back out now. that bastard of a boyfriend needs to pay. "what kind of revenge are you looking for doll?"

"he's cheating on me," you say looking at hongjoong and its his turn to raise an eyebrow at you this time. hongjoong turns his head to look at seonghwa, the eldest of the two clenching jaw as he rolls his neck. his 'matz' tattoo proudly on display as he does so and you can't help but to lick your lips.

seonghwa exudes a display of power that you have never truly experienced before, and that's probably what makes him so feared among all the different gangs. which was exactly why you wanted him and hongjoong to help you with this revenge.

"cheating, huh?" seonghwa says, reaching into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulling a pack of cigarettes. he takes one out before slotting it between his lips and effortlessly lighting it with his lighter. you note the metal and detailed design on his lighter, custom made.

"and how would you want to get this revenge, doll?" hongjoong asks, grabbing your chin and making you turn your attention to him.

seonghwa blows out a puff of smoke from his lips the smile time you look at hongjoong with a grin of your own. "i'm glad you asked."

the music was loud as you walked through the club. so loud that you could feel the bass vibrating through your entire body. the lights of the club were flashing a mix of vibrant colors and you almost started to strain your eyes.

and not to mention how packed it was in here, you rarely went clubbing for this very reason of not being a huge fan of packed crowds of sweaty, drunk people. usually you would have had someone's elbow in your ribs, but tonight was different. people parted the way like you were royalty.

well... it wasn't because of you, but the one who had their arm draped over you. you were pulled closely in seonghwa's side, your body leaning into his. hongjoong was leading the two of you, a lot of people moving out of there way and you noticed a few odd looks some club-goers gave you.

which you honestly wouldn't blame them. you were wrapped around one of the most dangerous and feared men in the city and walking through a club with two of them. you would give yourself a weird look too. but you really, you didn't have time to think about these people. there was only one person who needed to see you.

your douche soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

you soon found yourself in the vip section, looking down at the dance floor, your eyes scanning everywhere for your boyfriend. hongjoong came to stand next to you, arm around your shoulders as if he was also looking.

"do you see him?" he asks, and you're surprised you can hear him from how loud the music was.

"i don–

right as you're about to say no, that's when you spot him, wrapped around a girl as they grind against each other and it makes you cringe a little.

"right there! in the black button up," you say pointing at him and hongjoong lets out a chuckle as he pulls you against him.

"you could definitely do better than him, doll," he says. "the girl is pretty," he begins to add and you can't a wave of uneasiness crash over you, but before it could drag you under hongjoong adds, "but you're prettier. especially in this dress seonghwa picked out."

you turn to see him grinning at you and he cages you between the railing and himself. you run a hand down his chest, his bright orange fur coat standing out even against the flashing club lights. and you had to admit he was right, the sequin red dress that seonghwa picked out did not only make you look hot, but you felt like it too.

funny how these two men could make you feel something your boyfriend never could. your eyes flicker behind hongjoong to see seonghwa sitting on the leather seating, cigarette between his lips as he takes a long drag, his eyes locked on you and hongjoong. you felt a chill run down your spine and goosebumps cover your whole bond thanks to his stare alone.

"shall we go have fun now that we found him?" you ask hongjoong with a tilt of your head and hongjoong can't help but let out a small laugh.

"i knew there was a reason why i liked you, doll, that feistiness gets me going," he says, grin on his lips before he's leading you down the stairs.

like seonghwa, hongjoong was quick to drape his arm around you, showing you off as people parted for the two of you, mainly him. he lead the two of you over to the bar, the bartender immediately seeing hongjoong and coming over to get your orders. while you two waited, you looked around and spotted your boyfriend at the other end of the bar with some of his friends.

you felt an odd rage course through you knowing that he was having the time of his life partying, drinking, and cheating on you. while he thinks you're at home and waiting for him to return. you feel hongjoong's arm move from your shoulders to your waist. you turn away from looking at your boyfriend to hongjoong who's already grinning at you. he slides your drink over to before taking a sip of his own.

you quickly down your drink, "i have to use the bathroom," you say before slipping away from hongjoong; however, hongjoong stops you before you get too far away from him.

"go to seonghwa if i'm not here, okay?"

"okay," you say and he gives you a smile before letting you go and turning back to his drink while also ordering another from. and so you make your way to the bathroom.

when you exit the bathroom, you begin to make your way back to the bar, back to hongjoong, but before you could get too far you are stopped. a hand grabbing your wrist and a little too aggressively pulling you back. you let out a surprise yelp as you're turning around and coming face to face with your boyfriend.

"holy shit the guys were right," he says looking at you with surprise all over his face. "i didn't believe them and then i saw you at the bar with... with kim hongjoong. what are you even doing here?"

"what do you mean? am i not allowed to party like you?" you ask, pulling your wrist away from him, an eyebrow raised.

"that's not what i mean," he says, letting out an annoyed sound, "what are you doing here with some gangsters? everyone saw you came in draped around park seonghwa like you were his girl."

"because she is my girl, bastard," you see your boyfriend go pale at the voice behind him and you both look behind him to see seonghwa standing there with a bored expression.

"what are you talking about? i'm her boyfriend! not some thug like you!" your boyfriend says, trying his best to sound intimidating. however, it takes a lot more than a puffed chest to intimidate seonghwa.

"really?" seonghwa says with an annoyed laugh as he rolls his neck, his tattoo standing out boldly in the moment. "you claim to be her boyfriend, yet you're here with another woman instead of her. she's not yours anymore fucker, she's mine. princess," he says, now addressing you, "go get hongjoong. we're leaving."

you nod your head, but before you could get away your ex grabs you by the wrist, stopping. "you're not leaving with these punks until we ta–

he's cut off when seonghwa grabs himself by the collar and shoves him away from you. you notice a burning fire in his eyes as he stalks towards your ex who begins to back away scared by seonghwa. but then seonghwa stopped and turned towards you once more, "princess, go get hongjoong," he told you again and this time you went without anything stopping you.

"hongjoong, seonghwa wants to leave," you say, tugging on his orange fur coat. hongjoong sets his drink down before getting up and following you towards where you left seonghwa and your ex. you tell hongjoong what happened and you notice the grin the takes over his face.

seonghwa meets the two of you outside the club and you notice his knuckles are a little red and busted. however, you choose not to comment on them. instead you watch as he lights another cigarette, taking a drag before blowing the smoke out. his eyes look up to meet yours and can't help but feel something run through and straight to your core.

"your boyfriend is gonna get his shit out of your apartment tonight," seonghwa says as he guides you to get into the car – you honestly didn't notice the car too busy drooling over seonghwa.

"ex-boyfriend," you say, turning to him as you climb into the car and slide over for him to join you. hongjoong rounds the car and gets in on the other side of you. hongjoong says something to their driver before he leans back.

hongjoong wraps his arms around your waist, "i've never been more happy to hear that a word more in my life." seonghwa lets out a laugh at his partner's words. "now we can have you all to ourselves, right doll?"

"right."

you let out a moan, feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as seonghwa pounded into you. you felt your thighs burn from how he has you folded in half and hands gripping the flesh of your thighs tightly. you're pretty sure he'll marks later, but you don't really care now nor will you later.

seonghwa also lets out a series of moans and a few stuttered curses as he continues to thrust into your pussy. his cock stretching your walls out and filling you up as his tip continuously hits your sweet spot. you sling your arm around his shoulder and neck as you let it run down his back, raking your nails down him as you do so.

you feel seonghwa's lip press against your neck leaving open mouth kisses before pulls away to lick up your neck before he's sucking on the skin.

"h-hwa," you moan out as seonghwa moves to sit up slightly in order to thrust harder into you. "fu-f-fuck! so good~"

"you really doing a number on our doll aren't you, hwa?" hongjoong from behind the two of you. hongjoong had fucked you first, cumming in, and kissing you until your lips bruised before he slipped out of you and off your bed to rest in the chair by your desk.

he had a cigarette between his lips when he came to stand behind seonghwa, promptly smacking his ass and making the elder of two turn and send a glare. hongjoong only laughed at his partner before grabbing seonghwa by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together.

even through the kiss, seonghwa's hips didn't falter as he kept a steady pace. when the two separated, seonghwa seemed to have gained some extra energy as he continued to drill into you. his thumb coming down to vigorously rub at your clit and you couldn't help the moans and whines that escaped you.

"f-fuck, you feel so good," he grunts out as he wraps his arms around your body and rolls the two of you over so you're now on top. you feel seonghwa's hand run through your hair before gripping it harshly and crashing your lips together. his tongue enters your mouth and you note it tastes like smoke and whatever drink he had at the club.

when he pulls away as you feel his hands roam over your body, groping different parts of you as he begins to harshly thrust into you from below at an almost unthinkable pace. to be honest you had never felt this pleasured before, your ex never making you feel the things both hongjoong and seonghwa have made you feel.

you can't but bury your face in his neck, tears welling up in your eyes at the overwhelming feelings that this man is making you feel.

"hm, do-does it feel g-good, princess?" seonghwa asks, feeling your walls clench around him. he voice becomes rather breathy, his thrust getting longer as he grabs your ass.

"s-so good," you say, voice shaking and you silently cry from how it all feels. and then like a wave pleasure washing over your body, you cum. you let out a loud moan-sob mixed with seonghwa's name and you also pumps his cum inside you.

your mind is fuzzy as you lay on top of seonghwa, both of you sweaty and out of breath. your body stuck to his thanks to the sweat and also how you don't have the energy to move.

you feel your bed dip next to you and seonghwa before a hand comes to rest on your back, running up and down before gently pulling you off and away from seonghwa. his cock falls out of you and you whine at the emptiness; however, hongjoong's hand comes down to spread your pussy lips apart and showing off your cum-filled cunt.

"god, look at pretty our doll's pussy is," hongjoong says pressing a kiss to your temple. you look to see seonghwa looking at the both of you with grin on face before he's sitting up and moving to sandwich you between himself and hongjoong.

"why are you crying princess?" seonghwa asks, hand coming up to brush the tears away. you won't lie, his softness surprises you. his eyes that are usually cold and hard are now soft and his voice is gentle in a way. soothing. you didn't even know you were fully crying.

"hmm?" hongjoong cranes his head to look at you, a pout now on his lips as he looks at you. "what's the matter doll?"

"i guess all the emotions from today and from my ex cheating on me has just finally hit me," you confess with a small laugh. "i had never felt so much pleasure before, so i guess it just overwhelmed me... in a good way."

"your ex never made you cum?" seonghwa asks, reaching over to grab a cigarette before lighting it. he rests next to you and hongjoong, against your headboard and smoking. you crawl a little bit away from hongjoong in order to sit at the end of your bed.

"figures," hongjoong says when seonghwa passes him the cigarette. "spineless fucker, imagine the poor girl who's stuck with him now."

you can't help but let out a laugh as you watch the two of the most feared men in your city share a cigarette and gossip between each other about you ex. it sure was a funny sight to see honestly.

you watch seonghwa talk a long drag before putting the cigarette out, "come here, princess. you don't have to worry about that bastard and his no pleasurable dick anymore."

you smile, nodding before crawling between the two men and immediately laying your head on seonghwa's chest as hongjoong hugs you from behind. "thank you, joongie, hwa."

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