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#i didn’t intend for it to seem that way i promise
street-smarts00 · 1 day
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I have a request for a drabble or headcannon style thing, whatever you prefer. Where spencer and reader are very close (friends or dating you can decide) and he makes a fatal mistake on the job that gets reader killed 😳 if that is something you will do 🥰 thank you
(Long) Drabble: Doubt Comes in
Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader
A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! Normally I don’t like sad endings lol BUT this request gave me the motivation to write something with this idea I’ve had. I almost made it a full one shot but didn't know how. (if you like Orpheus and Eurydice, see if you can catch the hadestown references)
Warnings!: Sad ending/ANGST, Murder, death of a loved one, mentions of kidnapping, anxiety and questioning reality
Its kinda long for a drabble but not long enough where I would call it a one-shot, i got carried away but hope ya'll like it!
The team was working on a case with an unsub that was targeting couples. The team didn’t realize that the unsub had been stalking them since they arrived. He quickly learned of your relationship with spencer. 
You were leaving the precinct to follow up with a victim's family member when the unsub had snuck up on you. After you went missing the team went into a frenzy and tracked your location to an abandoned warehouse. 
When they arrived on the scene they had the unsub on the phone. He claimed that you were safe and unharmed. 
He said you were free to go but only one member of the team could go get you. He demanded they send in her boyfriend. 
Hotch was hesitant to send Spencer in. He was in shambles ever since you went missing that afternoon. His mind was scattered, he couldn’t think of anything but you. 
They figured while this was exactly what the unsub wanted, it was their best chance to get you out safe. 
Spencer was handed the phone and headed towards the warehouse. The building was dimly lit, it was so dark he could barely see 5 feet in front of him. The place was filled with storage and pallet rack shelves turning it into a maze. 
As he made his way through the building the unsub would give him directions if he strayed too far from the path. It was like the unsub had eyes everywhere, he must’ve either had cameras or was positioned on a hidden upper level. 
While Spencer was walking the unsub would taunt him through the phone. Asking questions about your relationship. 
It made him sick. He never said anything to the man on the other end of the line; didn’t want to give the unsub the satisfaction of knowing he was in shambles.
It felt like he had been walking for forever when he finally reached you. You were curled up in a corner of a dead end. When you saw him you jumped up and landed in his arms. He felt you trembling against him and it made his heart crack. 
“You said you would let her go if I came to get her,” he spoke into the phone with a shaky voice. 
“And I intend to keep my promise. You both are free to go. Except, she must walk behind you. You cannot not turn around under any circumstance until you both are out of the building.” 
“What will happen if I do?” 
“Let’s just say you’re wearing a kevlar vest and she’s not. If you turn around, speak, or hang up the phone, I shoot.” Spencer's stomach dropped. “And don’t even think about being a hero and giving her your vest.” 
“That's all we have to do? And we can go?” You asked, voice horse from not speaking in hours. 
The voice on the phone spoke again. “You’d be surprised how many men can not resist the temptation. The worst temptation you’ll ever meet, the one that lines between your ears and behind your eyes.” 
It seemed like a simple enough task. To walk out of the building. Spencer trusted you to be there and you trusted him to keep his eyes ahead. 
He placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise I-“ 
“I know. I love you,” You interrupted. 
“I love you,” he spoke softly before leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was trying to savor every last bit.
You both separated from the kiss and started your journey through the warehouse. This time the unsub wasn’t giving him directions to find his way back. At first he didn’t need them, with his eidetic memory he could recall the pathway he took. 
But as he kept walking the anxiety started to eat away at him. The darkness was messing with his eyes and the silence was deafening. He started to make wrong turns, forgetting which path to take and doubting himself. Either he was getting lost or the building was getting longer. 
The only thing that brought him comfort was the sound of your footsteps behind him. Or was that his footsteps? He didn’t know anymore. 
It felt like his senses were working against him. He already felt like an idiot with his mind not being able to think straight due to your disappearance. But now your life was in his hands and they’ve been trembling since he walked in. 
The logical part of his brain told him there would be no reason for you to not be behind him. But the anxiety running around in his head was questioning if you had ever been there at all. Or why would he let him win? Why would he let her go?
He had thoughts pounding in his mind of “Is this a trap that's been laid for me? Is this a trick that's been played on me?”
After what felt like a lifetime he made it to the front door. His footsteps picked up and he grasped at the handle to feverishly push the door open. 
Spencer walked outside as a wave of relief washed over him. They finally made it. 
He turned to face you as the corners of his mouth perked up. He met your eyes, shining with glee that you made it out safe. 
Then it got loud. He heard gunshots vibrating against his eardrums. Your eyes went wide as saucers. You grasped at your abdomen before you crashed into Spencer. 
How could this happen? They made it out. He said he would let them go. And Then Spencer saw it. 
You hadn’t made it out yet. 
He turned to look at you before you crossed. You both didn’t make it out. You got hurt, and it was his fault. 
He held you close to him. The surrounding sounds all blended together. Morgans screams for a medic, the officers breaking into the building. That all fell on deaf ears. 
It seemed as though his whole life fell apart when he saw you mouth his name as the light disappeared from your eyes.
Your life was in his hands, and he let you slip away.
“Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?” ― Ovid, Metamorphoses
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daydreaming-en-pointe · 4 months
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•·.· anywhere i want, just not home ·.·•
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Pairing: Gwen Stacy x fem!Reader
Type: Angst (no comfort)
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: ‘Gwen’s universe dissolves’ AU (may not make much sense but anyway), reader is dead (dissolved along with her universe), use of Y/N (sparingly), some cussing, mentions of blood, descriptions of grief(?)
A/N: hehe I think I’m starting to enjoy killing off the reader in angsty stuff 😌 hey i may not be very good at writing angst but it’s fun to write :D
I think this is set before the events of ATSV or sometime during except there’s no Miles? Idek anymore 🤷‍♀️ whatever feels right to u ig!
So I just realised I didn’t mention her dad at all 😭 just uh pretend that she’s grieving for him too
Look at how my tears ricochet
And I can go anywhere I want
Anywhere I want, just not home
(my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift)
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“It’ll only be for a few weeks, at the maximum.”
You were pacing in your bedroom, occasionally pausing to make sure that the girl sitting on your bed in her spider-suit still had enough ice to soothe the sting of her injuries.
“Gwen, I…” You shook your head, throwing your hands up in the air as words failed you - a result of the maelstrom of conflicting emotions whirling around in your head at the speed of light. “I don’t know what to say. Why? Why do you need to do this? You’re putting yourself in even more danger than usual!”
Gwen set the ice pack down on your bedside table, reaching her hand out silently toward you. You sighed and took it, squeezing her fingers gently as you sat across from her and felt the mattress dip slightly under you as you got comfortable.
“Trust me, sweetheart, I don’t like this any more than you do. But Miguel said that this mission’s important and he needs all the help he can get. This anomaly is one of the most dangerous ones so we’ve ever seen so far, we can’t let it run rampant. You understand what I’m saying, right?”
You bit your lip in thought, feeling small tears prick at the corners of your eyes as she leaned over to gently tug your lip away from your teeth to stop you worrying at the skin. Your mind seemed to be spinning in lopsided circles like a broken ballet dancer; like the music box Gwen used to have before she accidentally shattered it one day while sneaking back into her room as Spider-Woman.
“I’m going to be honest with you. I’m terrified. I don’t want you to…” You vaguely gestured with your hands in front of you, catching yourself before you could say the word ‘die’ as if it could somehow jinx it and make it come true. Gwen gave you a small, reassuring smile and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your lips.
“I know. I know, sweets. I won’t. I’ll be fine.”
“You can’t promise that,” You mumbled under your breath, folding into her and burying your face in the junction between her neck and shoulder.
Gwen exhaled softly, rubbing your back in the most soothing way she could so that her own uncertainty couldn’t slip through the cracks of her calm façade.
“Hey, don’t think like that. Tell you what, take this. It’ll remind you of me while I’m gone, and then when I come back we’ll order in whatever junk food we want and we’ll cuddle and watch movies, okay?” She reached down into her backpack that lay sideways on the floor and took out two bracelets. Your eyes flitted toward the bracelets and you took in a surprised inhale.
“You kept them?”
“Of course I did. They’re beautiful, like everything you make for me.”
She gave you a grin as she slipped one of the bracelets over your wrist. You examined it - smooth, round crystal beads with your name spelled out in mismatched word beads of different colours.
You remembered the day you had made them, sitting on the ground in the park with your legs crossed and Gwen’s head resting comfortably in your lap as she watched you string together the beads. Giggling and talking and just enjoying each other’s company.
Now that could possibly be the last time that happened. Because despite Gwen’s well-meaning promises and reassurances, you knew. You knew she was struggling to keep herself together, and all you wanted to do was pull her close and never let her go - hell, you would gladly go beat up whoever this Miguel O’Hara was if it meant your girl could stay with you, stay out of harm’s way.
But that wasn’t possible. And she wouldn’t want it either. She didn’t ask to get bitten by a radioactive spider and become a superhero; she just had to make the most of the cards she was dealt.
“Y/N?”
You blinked, bringing yourself out of your thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”
Gwen tilted her head to the side, resting her eyes on your wrist before reaching out to slip the bracelet off. You watched her curiously as she slipped the bracelet that had her own name onto your wrist, taking the bracelet with your name and nestling it right next to her multidimensional watch.
“There. Now whenever you miss me, just look at that.” She leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, clinking your bracelets together with a smile. “Goodbye, my love. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, sweetheart.” You watched her zip up her backpack and put on her mask, leaping onto your windowsill and pushing the window open. Right before she tensed herself to leap out, she paused, turning to look at you. Her mask was on, but you could read her expression behind the fabric easily. She gave you a smile, the corners of the mask’s eyes scrunching slightly.
“This isn’t a permanent goodbye, not by a long shot. I love you. I’ll see you again, I promise. And when I do I’m going to give you the biggest bear hug you’ve ever had in your life.”
——————
She never did.
Never got the chance to fulfill that promise.
She had gotten the news right after finally capturing the anomaly they had been chasing for more than three weeks. She was lying utterly exhausted on a park bench, Pav leaning on her with his eyes closed as they both waited for Hobie to punch in the coordinates for the Spider-Society HQ.
She remembered hearing the little ping that usually accompanied a message from HQ, the way he had momentarily frozen in shock, his border going black and white. She remembered sitting up, ignoring Pav’s grumbles and asking what had happened, because Hobie’s ever-changing border pausing in a monochrome filter was never a good sign.
She remembered him visibly struggling to grasp at words that would soften the blow, finally realizing that he couldn’t, in any way, sugarcoat it.
“I don’t know ‘ow to say this, but uh… another ultra-powerful anomaly fell into the city an’ managed to glitch itself so badly in the process tha’ it caused a dimensional tear in the multiverse an’… your universe dissolved, Gwendy. ‘M so sorry... listen, if you need anyth-”
She didn’t hear anything more after that, didn’t hear or feel Pav’s sharp inhale and Hobie gently squeezing her shoulder; instead she focused her gaze on the bracelet on her wrist, trying to push back against the dark spots threatening to bleed into the corners of her vision like pesky, taunting watercolours.
Bullshit. That had to be false, right? There was no way…
——————
Gwen would’ve given anything for Hobie to have gotten it wrong.
But, in some strange way, she could sense that he was right. Something missing, like a family photo which had been accidentally ripped in half. A rose with half its petals missing.
Red roses, red blood. Blood that was on no one’s hands, really, but felt like it had dried on hers. Her fault, even though the causes were so much bigger than her.
She had been cleaning out her stuff, trying her best to organize her somehow even messier side of Hobie’s canal boat when a small bracelet, nestled under pins and papers and god knows what else, had fallen onto the ground with a soft clink.
It was a miracle it didn’t break, honestly, which would have been cruel but oddly fitting.
She knelt to pick it up, freezing the moment her gaze passed over it. She picked it up gingerly, smoothing her fingers over the beads, her lips forming the word spelled out in beads on the bracelet.
“Y/N.”
At that one word, a dam burst and brought forth months of stubborn denial, steady grief, and then slow acceptance. Gwen braced her back against the wall, silent sobs wracking her body and making her shoulders heave with the force of them.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I… I should’ve been there, I might have been able to do something, or at the very least… I could’ve been there with you.”
She let her forehead drop to rest on her knees, drawing into herself. “I miss you. So, so much… nothing’s the same. Hobie’s looking out for me, but… there’s only so much he can help with. Nothing seems all that happy anymore… everyday I get up and ask myself ‘why doesn’t the sun shine as bright anymore?’ ‘Why aren’t the flowers as beautiful as they used to be?’ ‘Where did all the colour go?’ And then I remember that you’re not here with me.”
Gwen held the bracelet up to the light, letting its colours - so carefully picked out by a loving hand all those months ago - shine as tears blurred her vision and fell like crystals slipping from a shaky chandelier that should’ve broken a while ago, for its own sake.
“I want to go home,” She confessed to the bracelet quietly; the empathetic ear of someone she wished - no, hoped - was listening from the other side of the fragile border between life and death. “I miss the café we used to go to, right after I had band practise. I miss our little dates in the park. I miss seeing you in the front row of all our band’s shows. You were so supportive, weren’t you? Always showing up early, cheering your lungs out, then staying late so you could be the first to hug me. Without fail.”
God, how she missed your hugs. They were ones that she could melt into; surrender herself completely without having to offer anything in return. Ones she could fold herself into while your arms wrapped around her shoulders and squeezed gently, soothing enough for her to relax and sink into the comfort of your presence. You felt like a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a warm blanket to her - somewhere where she could let down any walls she had built around herself, tune out the world and just listen to your voice.
To her, you felt like home.
And oh, how she wanted to go home.
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@l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @hobiebrownismygod
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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Luck (Alastor x Reader smut)
Tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, creampie, attempted kidnapping, justified homicide, mention of the the history of women stabbing men with hat pins, biting, breeding kink if you squint, blood, Luci left on read :(, protective Alastor, cervix bullying, possessive Alastor, outside sex, rough sex, fem reader
minors DNI
This was a two part story, this being part two. But part one just isn’t good enough and I’m tired of waiting lol so here’s the standalone smut, written in a way it can be enjoyed solo
Vox’s ever present eyes noticed a reoccurring face around Alastor, and decided you were an easy way to get under his skin. Alastor manages to find you during the kidnapping but how he finds you sends his gentlemanly resolve unraveling. He had wanted to be gentle, he really had. C’est la vie, hm?
It took nearly 2 months of regular run-ins around Cannibal Town, chats over black coffee and deviled eggs, and some behind the scenes magic by Rosie but you finally enjoyed a dinner with the Radio Demon.
He’d never tell you how he awoke nightly in a panicked sweat, dreams of your soft skin under his nails tormenting him. He had done his absolute best to be just a charming southerner, tiptoeing between flirtatious and polite. Something about asking someone out during the night seemed scandalous and … loaded with implications. But ever since his hands felt your body thrumming beside him during a dance at Rosie’s Birthday Bash in the town square, he felt starved for the opportunity to see you again. You were beautiful in the daylight, yes. But something about the night, the way the shadows seemed to blanket the two of you together, it made him feel wild. He could remember the nights on the prowl during his time on earth, and the rush of being so close to you with so few people around felt so similar.
Rarely did he get a rush of adrenaline anymore, but when you’d shoot a witty retort back at him his heart would balloon against his ribs. The way you looked at him while he spoke, like you were drunk on the sound of his voice, made his fingers tremble. He never wanted anyone to know this, and hoped in some way he’d never have to tell. But then he considered, what face would you make if you ever reached over for his hand across the table? What if you rested your delicate head against this chest and heard the frantic beating? How sweetly would you smile? Smile at him, only?
“Alastor?” You broke him from his trance, noticing the ever so subtle way his smile seemed to loosen around the edges when he was lost in thought.
Dinner was long done, and you’d both managed to stall for a bit as he walked you toward the gates to Cannibal Town. He had insisted he escort you, though he was irked you wouldn’t allow him to wait until your ride had arrived.
If he knew you were staying with Lucifer Morningstar, he’d see you differently somehow. You didn’t want Alastor to think you were chasing powerful men, or to know you slept so close to the King of Hell. Something in your gut said he would find it unattractive.
“Yes, dear?”
You gestured to the gates a couple blocks in front of you, “This is good. You should get home.” Before Luci arrives to take me back to his.
“I intended to take you to the gates.” He looked past you, then back to you. You were so … small in front of him. Not your body or form, just, your existence. So delicate compared to his own strength. The way you looked up at him with your large doe eyes, it practically pained him. You looked so innocent, pure— how he wanted to make your eyes roll as your head lost any semblance of coherent thought. He wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.
“It’s just a couple of blocks.” He lifted his hand to begin to argue, but you cut him off at the head. “Alastor” you said it so softly now, your tone startling him with its gentleness. Had anyone, ever, said his name so sweetly? Since his mother, atleast?
“May I?” You tapped your cheek. His eyebrows rose before knitting together in understanding.
He leaned down and turned his cheek to you. You hummed happily and placed a chaste kiss there. Alastor turned his face toward yours, “In the future, You don’t have to ask for permission, darling.” You tried your best to keep your heart in your chest, and nodded. It was well known he wasn’t fond of physical touch, let alone unexpected touch. Is this how it felt to be an overlord? To claim a piece of someone else, a slice of territory not originally yours? “Two blocks is quite a deal of distance in hell.” He didn’t take his eyes off yours. Your attempt to distract him failed. Of course it did, he was nothing if not persistent.
“I have my weapon.” You lifted the hem of your dress to show a small angelic dagger holstered to your thigh.
“Ah, yes. Ha ha! Some kind of hat pin, I see” His eyes rolled, amused, “Who would dare bother you with such a frightening needle?”
With a glare, you mocked him, “Ha, Ha.” But as you turned to leave you stopped yourself. Every encounter with Alastor felt like it could be your last, as if he’d just disappear entirely. “May I see you tomorrow? I was going to get coffee at Hallowed Grounds around 10.”
“My dear, you couldn’t stop me.” He cooed, “Needle and all.”
“Good night, Alastor”
“Good night.” He didn’t move at first, but after you had made it half way to the gates of what he felt was assured safety, he let himself turn and leave.
His grin touched his ears as he hummed to himself. His cheek felt heavier where you’d kissed him. A part of you lingering with him. How he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the throat and -
An appliance store window filled with various sized TVs flickered as he walked past. Alastor stopped, ears turned down as he turned on the heels of his feet to face Vox’s cocky stare plastered on every screen.
“Oh, it’s you. Don’t you have a curfew? No TV after 9pm, they say. Rots the brain.” Alastor lifted his hand to inspect his nails. Vox had a witty intro planned, and launched straight into it. He only stopped when Alastor looked back up, “I’m sorry, were you speaking?”
The screens glitched and filled with static before Vox’s face stretched out across them all.
“It’s not my bed time you should be worried about.” Vox crooned. He couldn’t resist the urge to prod Alastor, “Perhaps your new friend should have gone home earlier.”
Just before you reached the gates, you stopped to see if Lucifer had replied about his ETA. Your phone slipped out of your hands as someone pulled you backwards into the narrow alley behind you.
A hand covered your mouth while the other arm was lifting you up by your waist. You kicked your feet uselessly trying to make contact with any thing that would slow your progress into the shadows.
Another man entered now in front of you, “You’ve got a meeting at Vee Tower, babe.”
The sound of an idling car in the back of the alley came into focus. You grabbed your knife and plunged it into the right thigh of the man holding you. He dropped you and you barely managed to scramble to your feet before his hand grabbed you by the hair and threw you against the wall. The force of the impact stunned you but you’d managed to keep the knife in your grip.
You’d been waiting for this. You had let men get the best of you before on earth, too scared of dying if you failed to defend yourself. You weren’t scared now. When you looked back at the man, he was shouting at his partner but you couldn’t understand a word. Your ears were ringing, a combined effect of hitting the wall and your skyrocketing blood pressure.
Your shoes slipped off easily and you pushed yourself from the wall and back into the attempted kidnapper, shoulder first.
Seeing you launch yourself onto his accomplice, the other man booked it out of the alley. It wasn’t worth it. This was supposed to be easier than this.
If he had maybe turned left, he would have made it to safety. But luck was with Alastor when the brute ran straight into him.
Your phone lay on the ground behind the man, who was already backing up when Alastor set his eyes on him.
“I’m going to enjoy this”, Alastor’s voice cracked with a static sting, eyes flickered to red dials against midnight black eyes as his back and neck broke and stretched. The man tripped over himself, but Alastor’s hands tore the man’s upper torso from his body before his ass had time to hit the sidewalk.
There was no time to savor the death, he tossed the man’s head and shoulders into the street before bounding with unnaturally wide strides into the entry of the side street.
Never had he known fear like this. Not when alive, not even close. Not even when Adam nearly bested him. There was a rock in his stomach threatening to drag his heart into the gutter of the Pride Ring as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley. Were you still there? Were you still whole?
You hadn’t noticed him at first, not until his massive, looming shadow shrunk across your body. Even then, you hadn’t stopped to realize it wasn’t the other attacker. You continued stabbing the dagger into the man’s throat with both hands until Alastor’s shoe crushed a piece of wayward glass under his step, breaking your concentration. Wild eyes finally tore themselves from the grey flesh of the demon on the floor up to Alastor, still expecting a fight with the man who’d fled.
“Alastor” was all you could squeak out. You were straddling the man by the chest, his throat so thoroughly decimated his head held on by just a few loosened tendons. The white dress you’d worn specially for your dinner was soaked through with blood. Your hands red to the wrists. Your lips and cheeks splattered. Your feet dirty and bare.
You yelped as you were yanked off of the dead man by your chin, Alastor’s large hand holding you off the ground. You were finally eye to eye with your dinner date. For the second time that night you were thrown against the cold brick wall. Alastor’s free hand grabbed yours that still held the knife and repeatedly bashed your fisted hand against the wall until the knife fell from your grip to the street below you. You hadn’t meant to keep it, never meant to brandish it at Alastor. Your survival instinct had overridden your sense.
Perhaps it would have stayed in control, but when Alastor’s hand slipped to your throat and his lips crashed into yours your mind went blank.
He kissed you clumsily, this wasn’t a man in love, or even a man in lust. This wasn’t a man at all. A demon in need was bruising your lips against his teeth. When you didn’t immediately open to receive him, he used his free hand to push at your cheeks and press inward where your bottom jaw naturally met your top. Your mouth was wrenched open, allowing his long and wide tongue to bully your own.
Alastor felt frenzied, the sight of you manically stabbing the already dead attacker momentarily broke him. His sweet little doe, his innocent and gentle darling brutally murdered a man and he got to witness it with his own eyes. He never believed God ever noticed his existence, but the moment he saw you straddling that corpse he felt sure some higher power delivered you to him. Just for him.
Only for him.
Pretense and facade be damned, you were made for him in such a specifically demented way.
He lifted you up, pressing your body against the wall with his own as your legs wrapped around his hips. He didn’t know where to start, he couldn’t keep his hands from trembling as he smeared the blood over your cheek between hurried kisses. His eyes were aglow, keeping your focus on him and only him as they darted around your face taking in every detail, every errant drop of your attacker’s blood.
Alastor buried his head into your collarbone, sucking bruises and nipping cuts into your exposed skin. You could feel the strained erection in his pants, it helped keep you balanced against him and the wall. He seemed to be mindlessly grinding his clothed cock against your core. Your dress had naturally found its way up and over your hips as he let one of his hands cradle your ass.
He had half a mind to rip the dress off of you but as he took a second to look down at your body he knew he wanted to keep it. The dress his love first killed in. Love— before a word that fell weightless from his tongue now sat heavy in his thoughts. He wanted your blood stained dress stuffed in his mouth as his last meal. An ode to your corruption. Maybe you'd understand him now, better than most. Did you enjoy it when you stabbed that man?
Breathing ragged and uneven, he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes were glowing red, pupils dark black pins.
Did it scare you, when you killed him?
Were you scared now?
He lurched you upward again, hands coming to either side of your head as he pulled back to look at your face properly.
“If you don’t want this, now is your only opportunity to stop me.” He closed his eyes to try and regain an ounce of composure. Perhaps a small human piece of him not wanting to see your face if you denied him this.
With every breath he seemed to be taking in your scent, his hips still gently pushing into you. Your eyes darted to the well lit street just beyond the dark of the alley. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your fingers scratch lightly at his undercut. He violently shuddered at the touch.
You shook your head imperceivably to most, “You don’t have to ask me for permission, darling.”
With that, Alastor came completely undone. As his teeth marked your neck with shallow tears, his hand tore the crotch of your panties entirely off, leaving just the lace waistband to slip up your stomach. With the speed of a starving man to his first meal, his cock was free of his pants and rutting against your exposed slit.
The head of his member was pushing against your clit in unpracticed thrusts, slipping between your lips and pressing at your entrance. With a growl he lifted you up more and angled your hips to him. He didn't wait to feel if he was lined up and he sunk into your heat with a single thrust. You winced, clutching onto his shoulders. His eyes saw the pained expression and for a second, just barely, the southern gentleman who tried to walk you home slipped back to the surface. But as quickly as he came, he was lost again as Alastor saw the way your mouth hung open, tongue hanging over your swollen lip.
A static shock nipped at your wrists where they met his neck, "Such a debauched look, mon cher. I haven't even begun to ruin you yet."
A moan slipped past your lips as he brought his mouth to your ear, tugging with his teeth as he thrust back into you. You could feel he hadn't bottomed out yet, but already he was crushing your stomach into your diaphragm. Your chest began to feel hot, a warmth trickling down to your stomach and pooling beneath your belly button.
Ad his breath ghosted along your neck, you could hear it sharply spike with every slam of his hips against yours. Something about seeing him losing composure, hearing him so vulnerable, spurred you to roll your hips against his cock.
"Mmmm," Alastor groaned, "Don't push your luck, dear. Do you know how precarious of a sit-"
You did it again.
He pulled out of you with one motion and flipped you around. Your hands were yanked behind you, the long fingers of one of his own hands intertwined with your wrists. His other hand lifted your knee up and out as he pushed back into you. The new position allowed him to reach deeper than before, and with a burning stretch you felt him finally bottom out. With each thrust, the head of his dick dragged inside of you. The new angle allowed him to smash into your g-spot with every slam into your heat, his balls tightly slapping against your wet cunt.
"I wanted to be gentler with you", He leaned his head against your shoulder, pace quickening. It felt as if your back would snap in half, "But you looked absolutely sinful covered in his blood." His lips grazed your ear as he let go of your wrists, his antlers now large enough to be scraping against the bricks above your head. The loss of him holding you made you lose you balance. Alastor took the opportunity to find your clit with his middle finger.
Biting down on your lip you broke the skin, trying to suppress the moan rising out of you. His hips kept a bruising pace, your ass smacking against his lower stomach with every thrust. You didn't want anyone, anyone to find you getting railed against a wall just outside of cannibal town.
His fingers forced past your lips, you hadn't noticed he was using a shadow tendril to now lift your knee to nearly touch your elbow. Two fingers pressed down on your tongue as his pace impossibly quickened.
You wanted to lick or suck at his digits, do anything to participate in this alleyway fucking, but it became clear Alastor didn't want you to do anything at all. He was lost in the pleasure of your pussy clamping down on him, pushing back against him with every intrusion. He just needed you to exist there around him. He needed you to take him, for your body to welcome the gentle abuse.
The pressure began to build as the reality set in that the Radio Demon was fucking you raw against a wall. You felt your orgasm winding up. The infamous Alastor, the mighty overlord, balls deep in you. So entranced by your cunt he could only groan and hiss against your ear. You could feel every centimeter of him pulling and pushing inside of you, his head smashing your cervix and uterus into your guts.
Your hands began to slip down the wall as your mind started to go fuzzy around the edges. His middle finger strumming at your sensitive clit with a new fervor, his thrusts becoming shallower. The radio in the assailants idling car roared to life, flitting through stations and static wildly as Alastor spoke to you.
"When you orgasm,” His voice crackled against the nape of your neck, "and your cervix lowers to receive my seed,” your knee was dropped as he fucked you flush against the wall, trapping your body there, "I will drown your needy cunt in my cum, darling." His words echoed through the car's radio and off the walls of the alley, volume peaking with a pop as the speakers blew out.
The tickle of his lips along your spine made you shudder, and you went limp as you let your mind go and allowed your body to spasm around him. As your orgasm hit, your stomach muscles cramped and your body tightened around Alastor's cock. He hissed, his hips losing their rhythm for a second as you almost painfully clamped onto him, cunt trying desperately to pull him deeper into you. He needed to slow down or else he’d be pushed into his own release sooner than he planned. As your orgasm waned and your pussy squeezed softly against him again, he renewed the rhythm. Your body had gone entirely slack, your limbs no longer able to receive messages from your brain.
Within seconds, Alastor thrust against you so forcefully you felt the air pressed out of your lungs. He buried himself in you, holding your hips flush against his as you instinctively tried to squirm away. The way you moved against him, tried to flee from his release, only seemed to make his cock jump more inside you. You thought you heard a pained “mine" against your shoulder as his promised seed jerked into your now pliant womb.
He finally stilled, his dick softening in you. You felt your body slide down the wall, feet touching the ground before giving out entirely. You sat, slumped back, and looked to the scene in front of you. Dead demon behind Alastor, your shoes bloodied and tossed around, and your little knife just within reach.
Alastor quickly composed himself, cock returned to his pants and his suit adjusted precisely. You looked up at him, eyes glazed and tear stained. Your dress was wet and ruined, thighs slick with a mix of fluids. Yet he stood there, clean and pretty. Perhaps some of you had soaked into the front of his pants, but you couldn’t be sure.
"I apologize for underestimating you", He took the dagger, lifting your dress to slide it back into its holster. "And for allowing you to leave my sight." He gathered your shoes and wiped the dirt from them against the leg of his pants before gently slipping them back onto your feet. With two large hands under your arms he pulled you up to your feet, legs trembling still. "I promise you it won't happen again. Can you walk, my doe?"
The new name made your cheeks feel hot, funny given the more embarrassing part of this situation was his cum now sliding down your thighs. You nodded weakly, adding, "But-" and glanced to your lap. You squeezed your knees together and looked back at him.
"I fail to see the problem." His head tilted to the side as he lifted your dress with one of his long fingers and watched the milky white liquid slowly inch down your inner leg. "But, I'll find us a taxi. You won't be going home." He guided you by your hands to step over the corpse and into the light of the street.
You clarified, "I won't be going home tonight?"
He summoned his microphone and brought it down with a crack onto your phone, still discarded on the sidewalk. "INCOMING CALL: LUCI" flashing on the screen before it was shattered. He lifted his hand and waved for a passing taxi, turning to you with a soft grin, "Any night, darling."
༻Masterlist༺
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urrockstar-xe · 3 months
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math test - p.parker x fem!reader
posted jan 27th, 2024 3:28 pm
came up with this cutesy idea the other day, hope u enjoy :)
summary: Peter's tired of allowing Spider-Man to be a shitty boyfriend, so he makes up for it the only way he can think of that wouldn't get you in trouble.
masterlist
not proofread
wordcount: 0.8k
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It was nearing 2 in the morning when Peter slowly lifted his window open from the outside, not so gracefully falling inside once it was a wide enough gap, followed by him stumbling several times as he tried to close his window while simultaneously trying to take off the red and blue spandex suit that so badly needs a wash.
The sound of his old bed frame creaking caught Peter’s attention once he finally pulled on some sweatpants. 
He whipped around, his gaze immediately falling to your half-asleep figure in his bed, a familiar sight now, one Peter had adored. Your half-opened eyes tried to focus on his silhouette. 
“Shit, hey sweetheart I didn’t mean to wake you” Peter’s whispered apology was laced with a soft muffled tone as he pulled a hoodie over his head, not bothering to fix his hair as he made his way towards his bed. “Didn’t know you were sleepin’ over tonight” He said with a tired smile playing on his lips, the bags under his eyes failing to distract you from the beauty that was your sleep-deprived boyfriend as you merely scooted over for him to join you. 
“Supposed to help me study for that test” you mumbled, no malice in your voice, no hints of irritation, not even a slight sadness to your voice at the thought of him forgetting about your plans. All you cared about at this moment was your boyfriend cuddling with you, using all your energy to open your arms for him to slide into. 
Peter stopped dead in his tracks, looking down by the nightstand and seeing your backpack on the floor, a math book sitting on the floor beside it next to a few pens. So that’s what he tripped on when he came in.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry, doll. We can work on it first thing in the morning, swear.” Peter promised, giving into what you wanted and sliding in bed next to you, wasting no time in wrapping you in his arms. 
“It’s due tomorrow, and I have to leave early for that dumb field trip.” You mumbled into his shoulder, not meaning to but making Peter feel all the worse for forgetting as he softly smoothed his hand up and down your back.
~
By the time Peter woke up the next morning you had already left, leaving behind a note on his desk.
”don’t think too hard about that test, I’ll just ask if I can have extended time on it. I’m just happy you got home safe” 
The little hearts surrounding your name at the bottom and the emphasis on him getting back at all seemed to have the opposite effect on Peter than you had intended. 
As now, he just seemed more determined to fix this problem he had made.
~
You laughed as your friend lifted her arms into the air, taking in a big deep breath as you both finally got off the bus, “freedom!” she exclaimed. 
“We have that test in like 30 minutes” You reminded her with a smile, earning a glare in response. “Buzzkill”
You chuckled this time, before watching her lift her finger and point behind you, turning as you followed where she was pointing, “that’s geek charming, what’s he doin’ here?” she asked quietly, expecting you to have an answer as you watched your boyfriend hurry over to you, green folder in his hand. 
“No clue, I’ll meet you inside” You smiled at her, watching her nod and smile back in response, walking backward towards the school while she obnoxiously waves and says “Hi, Peter!” 
Peter waved back, finally in front of you as he turned his gaze to see you already looking at him, with a soft smile. 
“Hey,” Peter matched your smile, holding out the folder to you before you could respond. “For your test, you forgot your math stuff in my room, so” 
You smiled, taking it gratefully, “Thanks, Petey. Although I don’t know how much help it’ll be-” Peter cut you off, “I mapped out in your notebook exactly how you can find any answers for the test and explained it in notes how I knew you’d be able to understand” You looked at him in awe as he rambled, watching as he took off his backpack and fumbled with it before pulling out your math notebook and handing it to you. “Peter-” “I almost wish I could take the test for you, I’ve just had so much to do lately as you know who and that’s no excuse for ditching my best girl when she needed my help so I figured this was the least I could do” Peter continued, taking a breath once he had finished. 
You set the folder and notebook down on the grass, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. “This is nice” he mumbled into your shoulder, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. “I love you, Peter Parker” You mumbled back, pulling back just enough to set a soft kiss to his lips. 
“I love you more, now go pass your test and make me proud, you can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?” Peter smiled at you, chuckling as you placed one, two, three more kisses on his mouth before pulling away and grabbing your stuff. 
“When I pass, you’re buying me dinner, baby!” You said, beginning to walk away.
“Whatever you want, doll!”
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If it is okay, may I please request a headcannon of MC being found badly injured by Ace, Lilia, Trey, Floyd, and Jamil? I really love these characters so much! And angst, too.
Ace Trappola:
Ace had a hard time keeping the panic from showing on his face, hands hovering over you like he was afraid to touch you. What if he hurt you more? He’d never claimed to have a healing touch but even now he knows there’s not much worse he could do other than finishing the job, a thought that proceeds to make him sick to his stomach. There’s another feeling burning deep in his gut, a rage only held back by the initial shock of seeing you in such a state and trying to process what to do from there. Your safety was at the forefront of his mind, getting you straight to a person who can heal you, even if every other instinct of his wanted to get even with the person who hurt you first.
Floyd Leech:
Though Floyd is not your enemy, you can’t help but feel uneasy as he approached. He’s not really glaring at you but past you, like there was a general barking orders at him that he had no intention of following. He hadn’t said much since he found you, another oddity as he wasn’t generally the quietest. You don’t think he’s ever handle you so gently before as he scooped you up, changing his pace or repositioning you carefully each time you winced or whimpered in pain. The first thing on his mind was returning you to safety, but once you were… He asked with an eerie calmness if you could give details on your assailant, even if it was more than one person, because he fully intended to pay them all back double (and Sevens help whoever tried to stand in his way).
Jamil Viper:
Jamil hadn’t quite gathered himself together, priding himself on analyzing situations, on predicting outcomes, and yet your interference had always been a variable he forgot to account for. Just like in his life, he had never expected you to come crashing in nor had he expected you to make a home beside him. He thought you were crazy for seeing any value in a relationship with him but he supposed you had your uses, hiding behind the shadow of a manipulator despite how truly grateful he was for your presence. Now he’s confronted with that, life spitting in his face again, demanding that he beg on his hands and knees, grovel, to assure that you survived your injuries. He knew the basics of healing, knew how to clean wounds and to dress them properly, but he had to hope mentally you had the strength to pull through for him. He hoped you could hear him begging for forgiveness, a promise to treat your relationship more seriously if you just came back to him.
Lilia Vanrouge:
Lilia’s always been good at wearing a mask, showcasing a playful smirk or firing off witty flirtations in moments that don’t necessarily fit the mood. But he feels a bit of the façade crack when he sees you in such dire straits, clinging to the last bit of calm he possessed as it tried to slip right through his fingers. It’s not that he’s scared, his battlefield experience allowed him to determine your status with a quick glance, but he felt a deep-seated fury building inside him. He remembered being pulled away from someone important before in a drastic, life-changing moment, unable to protect—fight by their side as he was meant to, and it seemed that same crossroads was appearing before him again. He had been forced into one choice for the sake of Briar Valley before but there are no such forces present now. He kneeled by your side, making a serious face you’re not quite used to seeing on him as he promised he wouldn’t let the culprit touch a hair on your head ever again.
Trey Clover:
Trey is used to keeping his cool under any circumstance, having to be the level-headed vice dorm leader had brought him many days of experiencing pressure to assure emotions didn’t boil over. Yet none of that training matters now when he saw your blood-soaked clothes, his heart skipping a beat until he realized you were still breathing. He tried to talk to you, offering soothing words, promising he’d get you to someone who could help soon. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth as he knew he likely wouldn’t have the chance to get his hands on the person who hurt you, biting down on his lip so hard it began to bleed, but he couldn’t voice his frustrations now to a person who was in a much worse state than he was. And he didn’t think he ever would, letting his anger fester deep in his chest until he had a moment alone to dispel it.
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pedgito · 2 years
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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 pt. i ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most.
cw: 18+ (minors, dni) teacher/student relationship, age gap (21 & 29), corruption!kink (eddie is well aware of what he’s doing), background ronance, max is readers bestfriend, eddie likes to wear his hair up for class and hates being formal, bratty!reader (sorta), angsty touches, a smutty cliffhanger, ect & lots more to come (pun intended)
word count: 11.6k - part two, part three, part four
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The campus was huge and crowded and everything you hated all wrapped into one—but you couldn’t beat the view, the pleasant Indians weather, and all the amazing classes the college had to offer. And normally, first days would be terrifying, crippling your anxiety, but there was nothing but excitement; for now, at least. 
Most of your morning was spent combing through syllabuses and trying to find your classes, which is mostly your own fault, deciding on a major so vastly different from your main course work—by the time afternoon rolls around, you’re forced to walk clear across campus, nearly ten minutes late to your class and faced with a surprisingly unirritated gentleman, who’s three seconds away from shutting the door closed indefinitely.
The man steals a glance at his watch, arm twitching slightly to force his sleeve back. His eyes glance up to you for a moment and back down, “Not a great way to start off your first day,” He comments cooly, face void of any emotion, “is this gonna be a habit?”
“No—god, no,” You respond, slightly out of breath, hand clutching the strap of your book bag, “I’m just getting used to where everything’s at—I didn’t get a chance to visit the campus earlier, I have no idea where anything is or—“
“It’s fine,” He assures, beckoning you into the classroom, surprisingly full, forcing you to the front row, positioned almost directly in front of his desk—this was the beginning of your nightmare, “let’s just be mindful of time, yeah?”
Not that Eddie has ever been punctual a day in his life. But, he’s learned that being a hard-ass is more effective than not giving a shit at all, especially when it comes to his students. 
“Yeah—yes, I promise.” You swear, forcing a thin smile before making an immediate line for your desk, hoping that the further you sink, the more unnoticed you’ll be. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. 
The loud slide of the chalk against the chalkboard as he writes his name across the green slab is defeating, most of the class watching in fearful silence—like there was some impending doom about to descend upon them. 
“Uh, sir—“ You can see him visibly tense at the word, “are we going to be learning how to play any instruments in this class?” The voice comes from a boy who seems naturally quiet and more reserved, mortified by the fact that he even found the courage to raise his hand and ask a question. 
There’s a small roar of laughter from the others, but you look along stoically, watching his face upturn slightly. 
“Don’t call me, sir—please,” He laughs lightly, “it makes me feel old.”
“Professor Munson,” He corrects himself, “sorry.”
“You’re fine,” He assures, “and look—this isn’t an intro to music, it’s intro to musical therapy. We’re not just studying instruments and music, we’re also studying behaviors, the mind, how all of this stuff connects and affects people’s thought process and aiding certain struggles they may have.”
His way of talking is animated and refreshing, a stark change from the usual monotone professors you’ve run into all morning. 
“So, if you’re just expecting to learn how to play the piano or something, this class probably isn’t for you,” He explains, eyeing down about a quarter of the class that makes a collective groan, “hey—I’m just being honest.”
And you knew you wouldn’t see half of those people in a week, jumping at the first chance to transfer, but you couldn’t help being intrigued. It wasn’t necessarily your first choice for a major, but it took you by surprise; your love for psychology and mind studies mixed with your love of music, it seemed like the perfect storm. Plus, your professor wasn’t the worst person in the world—yet. 
He easily snaps open the cuff links to his sleeves, rolling them halfway up his arm, revealing a rather striking depiction of bats, swarming around the expanse of his forearm. 
He definitely seemed like a tattoo guy, but it was still odd to see so openly—his feet tap together as he takes a seat on the end of his desk, scanning the room. You can’t help but notice his lopsided tie, wanting so desperately to fix it—it was bound to drive you nuts. 
“It’s probably best to get most of your question out of the way today,” He says, “so, shoot them at me while you have the opportunity.”
A few hands fly up, he points off to your right, a couple rows behind you. 
“So—are you a therapist?” 
He snorts a soft laugh, shaking his head, “No—I don’t have all the proper certifications, but I assist therapist a lot when they’re looking into doing stuff related to musical therapy. I know enough to get by.” 
The smile he flashes leads you to believe that he’s trying to be humble. 
“Do you play any instruments?” Another student asks freely, the heads of the rest of the class snapping in their direction.
“A few,” He answers, hand waving about in a noncommittal manner, “mostly just guitar.”
He adjusts his tie again, even more lopsided now and you can’t help but stare it down, focused on nothing but the black, shiny material of it—Eddie clears his throat softly, catching your attention.
He’s staring right at you, caught red-handed—quick, think of something—
“Who do you usually work with?” You ask suddenly, “In your line of work, I mean.”
Outside of being a professor, obviously. 
Another laugh, more subdued. “Veterans, mostly, and a lot of children.” 
Eddie claps his hands together very suddenly, startling most of the class, including yourself. “Anyways, let’s go over the syllabus so there’s no confusion—I don’t need you guys bugging me outside of my office hours, as much as I love to teach.”
You sense another jab coming, but it doesn’t.
The syllabus review is a breeze, setting you up for what most of the semester entails, including when he was available—again, making it very clear that he wasn’t available outside of office hours. 
And then he’s adjusting the damn tie again, almost like it’s wringing his neck to death. By the time class ends, he dismisses everyone with a simple wave, a few students lingering around their desks, debating on whether they should drop the class or not. 
The voice that trails from the front of the classroom as you take a step down catches your attention, pulling your head up to look at the culprit. “Staying or dropping?” He asks.
Professor Munson. It felt weird and unnatural as it rolled around in your mind, still not falling from your tongue. 
“Staying,” You answer surely, “I knew what this class was before I signed up—I’m not about playing roulette with taking a college class.”
“Fair enough.” He’s leaning against his desk again, hands shoved into his slack pockets, shiny, gold watch resting on his wrist, and you can’t take it anymore, the frustration boiling from your chest
“Your tie,” You say abruptly, pointing at the material, “It’s crooked.”
Really fucking crooked. 
He takes a glance down, finger slipping in the space between his tie and neck, pulling at the offense piece of clothing, loosening it until it’s snapping away.
He balls up the tie and tosses it behind me, landing messily on his desk. “I never wear those after the first day—hate them. They’re so stupid.” 
“Or, you just don’t know how to tie a tie.” You point on, mouth speaking before your brain can catch up—realizing much too late that this was your professor, not a friend. 
Eddie scoffs mockingly, “And I’m sure you do.” He counters, watching your face drop slightly.
You did, actually—but that wasn’t the point. 
“No one ever taught me.” He tells you, “So I’m wingin’ it.” 
You nod thoughtfully, surprised at how quickly you managed to embarrass yourself. “Oh.” You say simply, it’s all you can manage. 
You save yourself for further humiliation by offering a wave of goodbye, breaking the uncomfortable tension that had grown between you both, excusing yourself immediately.
And if that was horrible enough, your night would be even worse. 
☆.。.:*
“The Hideout?” You ask curiously, twisting the flyer in your hand, “That place is still open?
Max snatches the paper from your hand, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket, protecting her from the biting cold of wind—the beginnings of Hawkins autumn weather creeping up on you. 
It didn’t help that you were barely covered from the waist down, skirt leaving little to imagine as the slit ran high up your thigh, thankfully the long sleeve top you wore was enough to save your upper extremities. 
“Nancy and Robin swear by that place—plus, they’ll be pissed if you don’t go.” Max explains in her usual ‘could care less’ tone.
The only reason she was going was because of Lucas—a boy she’d met during her first class that day, who she also invited out, despite barely knowing. You couldn’t blame her, though. Max could handle herself well enough, that was for sure. 
The drive is long, further out of town than you expect—hidden on some rundown road on an empty corner, bare except for the small bar, yet the place was packed with cars. 
“Okay, maybe this place isn’t as rundown as I remember,” You take note of, “or everyone really wanted to get drunk tonight.”
Either way, you were definitely heading toward the latter option, following closely after Max. It doesn’t take long for Max to be pulled away though, quickly distracted by the only reason she came here, abandoning you. 
“Have fun,” You remind her, “seriously.” 
You could take care of yourself, settling up at one of the empty tables before the stage, perched on the uncomfortably tall seat, ordering yourself a quick drink as a server passes you. 
“Hey!” A perked up voice yells out from behind you, arms wrapping around in a gentle hug—no one had the nerve besides Robin, who quickly caught you in a fuller hug as you turned to face her. “How have you been? Where’s Max?”
“She’s busy,” You laugh, giving her a pointed look, which she catches on quickly. “Where’s Nance?”
“Right here,” Her delicate voice peaks out from behind Robin, watching as her hand sneaks into Nancy’s, squeezing firmly. 
You smile to yourself, but Robin sees it, shoving you an annoyed look. 
At least those two finally figured it out—almost ten years later. 
“So, you two know who’s playing tonight?” You ask curiously, sipping on the beer that the server passes to you on their way through the crowd. 
“Yeah, he’s an old friend—we haven’t seen him in a while, though.” They both frown at the mention of it, sharing a quiet glance. “We should’ve invited Steve, Nance.” 
“He never wants to leave the house, you know that.” Nancy adds, “His kids keep him busy enough.”
And it seemed like Steve got the life he always wanted, for the most part—but it’s still somber to think about, wishing just as badly that you could’ve seen him once more. 
“Maybe next time.” You offer, and both of them smile. 
“I’ll have to remind him to invite you to his littlest’s party in a couple months,” Nancy says, “he misses you.” 
The feedback startled all of you, pulling you from the conversation and toward the stage, light dimly over the center. The lights around the bar dimmed in contrast, adjusting everyone toward the men gathering in their places on stage.
You squinted carefully, watching the guitarist adjust the microphone, pulling it up to his height. His hair was long, unruly, and obscuring his face as he leaned forward, speaking into the microphone. 
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He asks with a decent amount of enthusiasm, receiving a hearty applause in return. “We’re Corroded Coffin.”
The name blanks in your mind, not ringing any immediate bells. 
It was definitely a crowd full of fans—or family, at least. They excitement was palpable, everyone leaning on the edge of their seats.
“This is our first show in a couple years, so go easy on us.” He laughs, head flicking up to move the hair out of his face—again, he spots you almost instantly. 
The intake of breath is involuntarily, getting caught in your throat. The blush that creeps up your cheeks is hot and burning, noticeable from a mile away.
Eddie fucking Munson, your college professor—of all the chances and fate in the world this is how your night was going to go?
Eddie clears his throat, immediately averting his gaze. “We’re just doing cover songs tonight—so if you’ve got a request, send it through Gareth.” He instructs, jerking his head over his shoulder. 
And despite how mortifying this all feels, Eddie plays his heart out; you’ve never seen anything like it. He’s a person who expresses himself through his body and his music, clearly—thrashing wildly and putting every movement he can into his playing, bouncing on his feet. He can’t be bothered to stay still, which is a complete difference from his classroom demeanor.
From what you’ve seen, at least. 
“You good?” Robin asks, nothing the ghostly look on your face.
“Yeahyeah, uh—“ You reply distantly, “The lead looked familiar, but I think it’s a coincidence.” 
One hell of a fucking coincidence. 
“Eddie?” They both ask simultaneously, “There’s no way.” 
Eddie Munson. Again, your professor—but also, a friend of a friend, and a complete fucking stranger otherwise. You must’ve pissed someone off well enough down the line to end up in this position; the biggest dose of karma you’ve ever felt. 
“Like I said—it’s probably a coincidence.” You assure them, eyes still locked on him. 
“Yeah—I don’t think we started hanging out with him until after you moved schools.” Nancy supplies, further attempting to assure you.
Eddie catches another glance at you and you can’t help but down the bottle of beer in one go, immediately leaving your seat to ask for another, leaving your friends to congregate at the table.
The song ends abruptly, falling off of a long guitar solo, and you can’t even dare to look in that direction, faced shoved into the drink you gripped in your hand. 
“Come here, come here,” You hear Robin call from behind you, but you know it’s not for you, another rumbling voice slipping through the many others, a weak protest, “Stop being like that.”
There really was no arguing with Robin and Eddie was smart to keep quiet, following her obediently to the bar. The hand that clasps your shoulder is light and gentle and Nancy shoots you an apologetic look as you look behind you.
“Ringin’ any bells now?” Robin asks playfully, holding her hand up under his face, like he was on display. Eddie makes a face, side eyeing her affectionately. 
“No, sorry,” You lie easily, shrugging him off. Eddie seems to relax at that, half-expecting you to out both him and yourself—not that there was anything wrong, it was just another freaky coincidence, “What’s his name again?”
And really, it’s just to poke fun, the slight buzz creeping into your system. 
“Eddie Munson,” Nancy replies, glancing between the both of you, “Edward, if that helps.”
Eddie rolls his eyes at that, hand held up in desperation as he called out for a drink over your shoulder, reaching around you to grab the bottle. You visibly tense at the proximity and he notices, still, he doesn’t try to move away. 
This was too weird.
“Nope, still nothing.” You tell them, sticking to your story. 
Robin shrugs, “Well, I should probably explain—Nancy used to babysit her when she was younger, her and Max and all those crazy little kids that we always told you about—“
It made you wince; babysitter, Nancy, kids. It was the worst sequence of words that could’ve been spoken in history, to your professor, in the middle of a bar, that he was also playing at. 
“Robin,” You warn, “I’m sure he doesn’t care.”
“Nah,” Eddie shrugs, leaned beside you against the bar, metal chain clinking against the counter-top, lifting the beer to his lips leisurely, “It’s nice to meet you.”
And the smile seems forced, but his voice is steady, easy—you almost believe him.
But, then Nancy and Robin are pulled off in a different direction, catching up with another small group of friends and Eddie is staring at you.
And not secretly—very, very openly. 
“I swear I didn’t—“ You start.
“I don’t usually,” He interrupts.
You both take a hard stop, looking each other down. 
“You first,” He instructs, bring the drink to his lips once more, “then I’ll go.”
“I swear I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” You explain, “otherwise I would’ve skipped out.”
He wants to ask why, but the answer seems obvious—no one wants to see their teacher outside of school. 
“I don’t usually make a habit of letting my students see me like this.” He motions to his get-up, hair loose and clothes even looser, aside from the obviously homemade jacket he wore, patches hand stitched and worn at the seams, but the weirdest part of it all—the ripped jeans. It felt out of place for someone nearing their thirties. He catches your gaze, the judgement evident. “My point exactly.”
“So, that’s why you don’t know how to tie a tie.” You challenge, taking a long sip of beer, eyebrow quirked in amusement as you swallow, cheeks puffed out by the liquid. 
He scoffs softly, amused at your comeback. “We shouldn’t even be talking right now, you know that?” He points out, yet he hasn’t moved an inch, still close enough that if you decided to separate your thighs, he’d fit perfectly.
You hum quietly, “Yet, you’re still here.” Another beer down, another slipped into your hand like clockwork, throwing it back easily. “So, who’s fault is that?”
Him being the responsible adult and all, not that it really mattered here. This would be a level playing field outside of any other circumstance. 
“Wait—can I ask a personal question?” And maybe it was the alcohol talking. 
“No—“ He answers quickly, but your brain bypasses it.
“How old are you?” You ask curiously, “You look too young to be a professor.”
Eddie looks stunned, affected by your forwardness, but he takes it in stride. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment—I’m twenty nine, a couple years older than Nancy and Robin.”
You don’t press on the additional information, but nod thoughtfully, taking another quick sip of your beer.
“Sorry—it was bugging me. I have a bad problem with filtering my thoughts.” You admit sheepishly, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, fiddling with the flimsy zipper on your skirt. 
“Clearly,” Eddie laughs, bringing the bottle to his lips slowly, stopping just as his lips pressed the rim, “Are you even old enough to be drinking?”
“Are you going to kick me out if I’m not?” You challenge playfully, Eddie doesn’t bite, looking you down accusingly.
It was as if he suddenly shifted back into teacher mode, judging your choices and feeling the need to scold you.
“I’m twenty one,” You tell him, “don’t have a fucking stroke over it.”
You don’t know why Eddie’s eyes shift, scanning full body, like he’s trying to take all of you in—both of your contrasting styles outside of school are a welcomed surprise; he doesn’t really expect it from you. But, you could say the same for him.
“Wasn’t gonna,” He assures you, nursing the beer near his mouth, forearms leaned against the bar now as he looks toward you, eyes catching the way your fingers fiddled with the label on the bottle, “you cold?”
Your leg crosses over the other, goosebumps riddling your skin—it’s like he’s a mind reader, the entrance door of the bar swinging open, a cold blast of air spreading throughout. “Not really.” You lie, gripping the end of your skirt to shift it down. 
You could’ve been more practical, shown up in jeans and some worn out band shirt, but you wanted to look nice—feel cute and dressed up for once, was that a crime? 
“Hey, there you are,” Max calls from behind you, scattering toward you with a wide-eyed Lucas in tow, “so you met Eddie?”
You turn in your seat, staring the fiery redhead down, a smile plastered on her freckle covered face. 
“You too?” You ask incredulously, glancing toward Eddie, who seemed rather unfazed by it all now. “What the hell?”
“He used to live across from me, back in high school,” Max explains, which makes sense.
You moved after middle school, leaving most of Hawkins in your rear view, aside from the occasional letters to Max—both of you swore that despite the distance, college was your nonnegotiable; both of you applied, both of you got accepted, it was some sort of divine miracle, but neither of you questioned it.
“Small world,” Eddie shrugs from beside you, finishing off the last sip of his beer, “you staying out of trouble, Red?”
“Probably not,” She replies honestly, before turning to you sheepishly, “—do you think Robin will give you a ride home?”
“Max,” You groan, her look switching from hesitant to pleading, “fine—whatever, I’ll talk to Robin.”
“I love you,” She says endearingly, wrapping you into a quick forceful hug, nearly knocking you from your chair, “I owe you one.” 
“Uh huh,” You reply sarcastically, waving her away, “See you tomorrow.”
When you turn, Eddie is slapping a fresh bill on the counter-top, returning his chained wallet back to his pocket.
 “I guess I’ll be seeing you Monday.”
Saying it makes it even weirder. 
“I won’t tell anyone.” You assure him, seeing the way his eyes catch yours, almost thankful. He doesn’t have to say it—he didn’t take you for the type to brag, but still, it’s a comforting confession. “I promise.”
The last part feels like too much, but Eddie smiles regardless, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders, preparing for the crisp, cold air that awaits him.
Robin, find Robin. Your brain scrambled, searching around for your friend—or Nancy, but neither of them are anywhere inside of the bar. 
You’ve got to be fucking kidding. 
“Everything okay?” Eddie asks softly, pulling the hair caught under the lapel of his jacket.
“I think they left,” You frown slightly, preparing yourself to walk several blocks until the nearest bus station, feet already sore and achy from the uncomfortable heels you wore, “Robin and Nance.”
And Eddie has the internal battle with himself for at least half a minute, weighing the odds of how uncomfortable this could be, or how creepy it may come off, but he wasn’t going to leave you high and dry—he wasn’t raised that way.
“Where am I taking you?” He asks suddenly, swinging his keys into his palm.
“Huh?” There was no way you were taking a ride from your teacher, of all people. “—I’m fine, really. I just need to walk far enough to the bus stop.” 
“In those?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring down at the heels that hugged your feet like a vice grip, already sore from only a couple hours of use. “It’s not a big deal—are you going back to campus?”
You nod hesitantly.
Eddie motions toward the door and you follow obediently—your feet could thank you later. You knew there was no harm in a ride home, either, Eddie was far from the normal sketchy men around Hawkins, but it didn’t feel right. It felt like keeping a secret from your parents and doing something that had persistently told you not to, or how often the school system looked down on relations with staff outside of school, no matter the level or severity. It seemed that Eddie was hoping you’d keep this to yourself—he was counting on it.
☆.。.:*
“Did you enjoy the music at least?” Eddie asks halfway through the drive, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other fishes for his pack of cigarettes; a bad habit he’d yet to break.
“I mean—they were cover songs,” You shrugged, “Metallica is alright, but I prefer Bon Jovi and Quiet Riot—“
“Are you shitting on Metallica, right now?” Eddie asks, shocked by the admission. He manages to wiggle a cigarette out with one hand, tossing the box toward the middle console, “Do you mind?”
Part of you wants to say yes, just to be difficult, but you shake your head. He flicks his lighter opening, lighting the end of the cigarette until it burns a bright amber, ashes falling from the tip.
“You dress like you’re stuck in the eighties, dude.” Eddie seems offended by the comment, but takes it in stride. 
“Says the lady who still listens to Bon Jovi.” Eddie sharks, pulling the cigarette from his lips, smoke billowing from his nose as he breathes, “
You hate how nice it is to watch, his soft lips pursing into a tight line. One more hit at him and he’d probably fail you out of spite, but you do it anyway. 
“Says the guy still singing eighties cover songs.” Eddie winces at the jab, flicking away the ash from the cigarette, held out in the air as he searches for his retort.
“So you hated it?” Is all his brain can muster at a time like this, brain hazy from the amount of beers he consumed—you could say the same for yourself, the alcohol buzz is still ever apparent—you wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like this while stone cold sober, that’s for sure.
“No,” You reply honestly. The music was good, the performance was even better, but still—it seemed he was searching for your approval, like it would make all the difference, “but it’s the mid nineties, you need to get with the times.”
Eddie scoffs offensively, a few more puffs before he’s rubbing the cigarette to its untimely demise, pulling into the quiet campus. 
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” He says, coming to a stop, “—I hope this is close enough, the last thing I need is someone catching me dropping you off.”
Then he shouldn’t have offered a ride, which was his first mistake of many. 
It’s offensive how handsome he looks under the dim lights radiating from the inside of his van—an odd choice for a teacher of his salary, but it still makes sense, somehow. 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sir.” You retort, throwing the last bit in for fun—he tenses again, visibly. He doesn’t correct you, though, which is even more difficult to understand.
He offers a simple wave, friendly and polite, then he’s gone and halfway across the campus before you can even process what happened. 
It also doesn’t help that the first thing you see in your dreams that night is his face—ungodly in the way he worshiped your body, from head to toe; it was definitely the alcohol talking. 
☆.。.:*
Monday drags more than you expect, having nursed your hangover during the weekend, it felt like an aftershock was trying to overtake you, your focus lacking. It wasn’t unlike you. 
You replay the conversation with Eddie in your head a few times that weekend, realizing that even through your drunken haze, Eddie was not attempting to be teacherly toward you—he was friendly, a natural conversationalist, it felt wrong. 
It felt even worse when you fell asleep, his head stuck between your thighs as you dreamed that night, “She’s so pretty,” His voice is faded, muffled—like he’s stuck in a tunnel and too far away, “fucking soaking wet, too.” 
And it feels too real as he licks a broad stripe up your cunt, moaning obscenely as his face is coated in your wetness, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit—it’s too much for you to process. 
“Good afternoon,” Eddie’s voice carries through the door to his classroom, satchel and coffee in hand, looking just as worse for wear. His hair is tied back in a loose bun, no tie today, and his slacks look like they’re been worn for a week straight, wrinkles and all, “nice to see the class has downsized.”
It has, nearly half of the original class is gone—which really, it was better for you. You couldn’t focus in large classes and it felt less personal, more disconnected than you liked.
Eddie tries desperately to keep his energy up during the duration of the lesson, but he’s lacking on all fronts—maybe he had a rough weekend? 
When he hands out the first assignment near the end of class, he stops by your desk, leaning on the railing to speak to the entirety of the class, “And don’t freak out—this is just a basis to see where you heads are at in terms of what music you like, how it makes you feel, it’s just a soft introduction into some of the stuff we’ll be covering over the semester.”
It’s a list of various songs, bands, genres—a mix of things dating back to the early fifties, up until more recently. “Go out, rent some of this if you’ve never heard of it, and write what you feel—that’s it. Easy enough?” 
Eddie doesn’t acknowledge you most of the class, which is expected, but disappointing. He seems preoccupied, distracted, clearly bothered by something. But, it wasn’t your problem—the only focus you had now was your course work, which was the first thing you started on that night; a very giddy Max rummaging through your dorm room as background noise, so disorganized it could drive you insane. 
“He drove you here?” She asks.
“Yes—but you can’t say anything, Max. I’m serious.” 
You didn’t have anything to worry about, you knew that.
“I didn’t even know he taught here—or that he was even a professor. I mean, I know he finally graduated but—“
“Finally?” You ask curiously, swiveling in your chair to face her fully, interest fully piqued.
“He had a rough time in high school—he didn’t graduate until he was twenty, I think.” She explains, busy hands now stopped in their tracks. “He’s been through a lot.”
Your eyebrows raise in question, hoping Max would spill everything she knew—you couldn’t help but be curious about him, even if he was your professor.
“He probably doesn’t even know I go here,” She laughs slightly, “His mom and dad were never in the picture, though—at least I never saw them, it’s always been him and his uncle. He hung out with Nancy, Steve, and Robin a lot—closer to when he was graduating, they’ve stayed good friends, I guess.”
You nod slowly, absorbing the information.
“Is he mean?” Max asks randomly and you almost laugh, “My professors are the worst.”
“He’s fine,” You shrug, “It’s kinda nice that he’s not such a dick, you know?”
“What does he teach again?” 
“Musical therapy?” You respond, wondering if that would surface any other tidbits of information.
“Oh—that kinda makes sense. He was always listening to music, then he just disappeared after graduation, but his uncle always talked about how he was helping people, doing something he really liked—I just never bothered him about it.”
There’s a long silence before Max can’t help herself, perching herself on the surface closest to you, pens scrambling to the floor as she takes a seat on the edge of your shared desk. 
“What did you guys talk about?”
“The weather,” You say flatly, not receiving any type of reaction from her, “—-just music, that’s it.”
“But, babe, you love music.” Max reminds, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. 
“And—he’s my professor, it’s fucking weird.” You explain, but even Max doesn’t believe you. “What—why are you looking at me like that?” 
“You two are so similar,” She laughs, “It’s freaky.”
“Maxine—what are you trying to imply?”
“Nothing,” She shrugs, hoping from the desk, “—remember that I’ll be your maid of honor at the wedding, though. We pinky swore.” 
“He’s my professor, Max.” You stress again, Max smiles wide, annoying you further.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, right?” Max asks, realizing that you’d used the same playful jab at him the night before.
“What?” The coincidence was uncanny.
“Eddie used to tell me that whenever I tried to justify doing something I wasn’t supposed to—I’ve grown, obviously,” That’s not entirely believable, but you keep your mouth shut, “the saying stuck with me—it’s kinda fun to use.”
“Whatever—did you get the music I asked about?” You ask, impatiently switching the topic to something less scandalous.
“Everything was spoken for,” Max explains, trying to let you down gently, “I really tried—but I guess everyone in that class had the same idea on where to go, unless you want to take a trip to the store and buy them—“
And it dawns on you, Eddie must have some sort of music collection, “Wait—what time is it?”
Max takes a quick glimpse at the alarm clock on her nightstand, “A quarter past five, why?”
Still open for office hours—you prayed silently, despite your lack of religion, hoping that he was still in his classroom.
“Give me a ride.” 
Max doesn’t question it, being the best friend she is. 
☆.。.:*
“I’m busy,” He says before you can even knock on the door, your loud ascending footsteps giving you away, “come back in the morning.”
You peek through the window of the door anyways, seeing a perfectly relaxed Eddie reclined at his desk, feet propped up as he jotted something down in a book, tongue poked out in focus. 
“Uh Professor…Munson,” It felt foreign and weird, “I just had a question.” 
His demeanor changes on a dime at the sight of you, unbusying himself completely. It’s a little hysterical, but endearing nonetheless. It makes your stomach flutter at the sight, scrambling to button his shirt higher, seem more professional, not that you hadn’t already seen him outside of work.
The door creaks open, his head popping through as you back away, “What’s going on?” He asks, surprised that anyone would dare to bother him outside of normal class hours. It doesn’t take you long to realize that he only mentioned the office hours out of courtesy, he didn’t actually expect anyone to bother him. 
“I was trying to work on your assignment—“ His eyes softened, and it made you flinch, feeling exposed, “I don’t really have the money to buy any of the music and everything was already rented out—-so I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“Oh,” He wasn’t sure what to expect but he finds himself opening the door wider, welcoming you inside, “Yeah—a few students raided my shelf before class was over but I’m sure there’s some left.”
“Thanks,” You reply shyly, squeezing beside him, watching as he lingered by the door still, hands shoved into fists in his pockets, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, sir—“
“You can call me Eddie—here, at least.” And that definitely doesn’t feel appropriate, but if he’s insisting, well…
“Sorry, it just feels…strange, I guess.” It’s not how you wanted to describe it, but it’s the only word that comes to mind. “I can’t imagine how weird it is running into your students outside of class.”
“Probably as weird as it feels running into your teacher,” He adds playfully, lightening the mood. It’s nice that he’s not so bothered by all of it, “Oh—I’ve got some Elvis in there, a lot of classic rock. I’m not sure about the newer stuff, though.”
“Max has some of it.” You comment without thinking, sifting through the box of music, picking and choosing as you went. 
“Max?”
“She’s—she’s my roommate here.” You answer quietly, unable to meet his eyes as he walks closer, leisurely making his way around his desk. 
“I guess I should’ve put that together,” He says, taking a moment to examine the sweater you’d shoved on, “You two share a closet?”
“Among other things.” You smile, grasping the stack of Cd's in your hand, “How did you know?” 
You share a glance down at the faded sweater, reading off the name of some random skate shop back in rural Hawkins, a place you’ve never stepped foot inside of.
“I got that for Red on her sixteenth birthday, before I left.”
Eddie’s frowning now, nearly unnoticeable, but you see the way his mouth creases, eyes turned down. “It’s her favorite,” You say, in an attempt to make the mood less dark, “but I always steal it from her—she’s let me take residency over it at this point.”
“It looks nice,” Eddie says suddenly, feeling the slip up as it slides off his tongue, rambling even further as he says, “on you—I mean, it’s a nice sweater—that’s why I bought it.”
You laugh softly, bottom lip jutting out as your mouth curls into a smile. “Thanks, Eddie.”
He scratched at his temple, ringed finger shining against the light refracting from the lamp on his desk. You’ve never noticed it before—or them, since his hand was adorned with three, that you could see. 
“Hey, those are cool—“ You point out, finger pressed in the direction of his upheld hand. He stops, views his hand, almost like he’s forgotten he was wearing them, “I’ve noticed them before.”
“I try not to wear them during class hours, the administration thinks it’s unprofessional.” The nature of the rings, not the fact that he wore them—if he had a wedding ring it wouldn’t matter, but the thought of marriage made Eddie want to vomit. 
“Fuck ‘em.” You say crudely, shoulder shrugged In indifference. 
Eddie’s mouth hangs open slightly at the sudden outburst, amusement flooding his face, “I’m still your professor—probably should keep that type of language to a minimum.”
You snort at his indication that he had any type of hold over what you do—he couldn’t be further from the point. 
“Or what?” You say challengingly, “This isn’t high school—it’s not like you can give me detention or tell my parents.”
“I am the one handling your grades.” He counters, hip leaned against the edge of his desk. Your free hand travels to your waist, slipping underneath the sweater to rest against the skin.
“You don’t intimidate me—I hope you know that.” You remind him carefully, eyes narrowing in his direction. “The other’s are terrified of you, but that shit doesn’t work on me.”
And he should know better—you shouldn’t even be here and he definitely should be flirting with a student, if you could call it that. Was this flirting? Was this crossing the line? He’s studied body language for a long time, through the process of his treatment of people, and he can’t help but notice how relaxed you seem, almost enjoying the back and forth.
“You should go,” He says quickly, avoiding any further lines being blurred or crossed or misconstrued; you were his student and it was unprofessional, “my office hours are closing soon.”
“Uh huh.” You nod slowly, adjusting the stack of music under your arm, watching the way Eddie’s fingers drum against the desk impatiently, like he can’t wait to get you out of there. 
If he was really that bothered, he could’ve said something.
“Thanks again, professor.” You say with grandeur, motioning to the stack of Cd's, “It’s greatly appreciated.” 
Eddie tries to ignore the small sliver of skin that shows underneath your slightly raised top that was no longer obscured by your hand, almost like you’re doing it on purpose.
Which, yes, you absolutely were.
You slip by him silently, avoiding the way his eyes follow you. It felt predatorial, but not uncomfortable—and that’s what you hated about it. 
He didn’t look at you as a student—he looked at you like something else; you couldn’t put your finger on it. 
Eddie turns on the heels of his shoes, “I expect those back tomorrow,” He warns, but there’s no sense of actual ramifications behind it.
You don’t answer fully, a small nod that Eddie doesn’t quite notice. He grabs the sleeve of your sweater gently, his fingertips pressing against your covered arm. “I mean it.” 
You look at the hand that gripped your arm for far too long, Eddie still holding on just as hard. “I know.” You appease him, “And if I don’t—you know where to find me.”
The glance to your desk is silent, but done in unison.
“Wanna let go now, sir?”
Eddie hates the way his dick twitches under the material of his corduroy slacks, releasing the bunch of material from his grip. You half-expect him to scold you for the remark, but he’s speechless, for once in his life. 
“Sorry,” He apologizes, feeling like he’s made things uncomfortable, but it’s so far from that—he has no idea, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“On time, hopefully.” 
It’s just another playful comment, but it has Eddie gripping his thigh from the inside of his pocket, muscles tensed in frustration.
You leave with a wordless smile that’s burned into Eddie’s mind for the rest of mankind—and it’s definitely not the first thing he thinks about when he slips his boxers down his thighs that night, cock still half-hard from earlier in the evening.
☆.。.:*
He becomes a permanent fixture in your dreams as the weeks grow on, unbeknownst to him—not that he can say much for himself either, annoyed by the finite nerve you have to walk into his classroom, skirt pulled halfway up your waist, ass barely peeking out of the bottom of the pleated material.
He knows it’s wrong and going against all of the rules set it place for this very reason, but he can’t help himself. So, he suffers in silence—not that it was anything new to him, he’s done it his entire life; under different circumstances and situations perhaps, but the basics of it still remained. 
“Fuck—spread your legs,” His voice is hushed, quiet against the skin of your leg as he sucks a deep purple mark into the skin, jerking at the touch of cold metal, the outside of his rings grazing your thighs, “wanna taste you.”
It feels too real—you toss and turn in your sleep restlessly most nights, dreaming about your professor with his hands around your thighs and his mouth buried deep into your cunt. 
And with little to no interaction during class, aside from the occasional glance in your direction, he kept his distance—which wasn’t a surprise, he had no idea.
He had no idea that his student was practically pining after him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen him outside of the classroom, dress downed and free of an inhibitions or rules; it was a special kind of torture. 
It’s late October when Eddie speaks to you directly, alone—he’s got most of the class set up on various different instruments of their choosing, allowing them to feel them out and play freely, and somehow—by some fucked up fate, you get stuck with a six string and not a clue how to play. 
Fake playing wasn’t working, Eddie could spot it from a mile away. You don’t chance the glance up at him, but the squeak of his shoes is enough warning, bracing for whatever remark was going to be sent your way. 
“Have you ever played before?” He says instead and your eyes immediately shoot up to him, all previous restraint thrown out the window. 
“No, not really.” You say truthfully, watching as Eddie pulled up a chair in front of you, facing the back of it in your direction, thigh swinging over the side—his jeans tightening with the action, along with your thighs. You really needed to get your shit together. 
“Here,” His hands come out to rest over yours, adjusting your left hand over the base of the guitar, your right hand around the neck, “This is A,” He presses your finger over the cord, instructing your other hand to strum.
It’s slightly out of tune, but the guitar seems old—probably provided by the college rather than Eddie himself, “That’s good,” He praises calmly, “Now try playing an A sharp,” He guides your hand further down the neck, the warm, rough skin of his hand covering your own. He feels tough and worn and you notice the small cuts around his fingertips at this proximity, breath catching as his hand grasps around the wrist that was actively strumming the guitar, “it’s really complicated at first, there’s a lot to learn.”
“Clearly,” You say, forcing down the smile that threatened to break through, “how long have you played?”
He seems surprised that you cared or even tried to ask.
“Since I was about twelve, probably.” He answers honestly, “More than half my life.”
Eddie still hasn’t moved his hands, either—he can’t be bothered. It doesn’t look as incriminating as you thought, but still, you knew. He helps you play through a few more notes until he’s gotten you to the point of playing a small, five second tone—but it’s all you can really manage. 
“It takes a while.” He assures you, not that you wanted to pick up a guitar again after this.
“Why don’t you play?” You ask sweetly, smiling flashing with nothing but devious intent, handing the guitar over toward your professor. 
“Nono—I’m really not—“ He protests, setting the guitar back on its stand beside you.
“Not what? That good?” You ask curiously, he was worse at lying to himself than he was to you. 
“Are we forgetting how I saw you play that night?” You ask quietly, nothing how his gaze lingered with yours, “Because if that wasn’t you then—“
He gives you a muted look of warning, wanting you to drop the topic of conversation, but you can’t be bothered. He wasn’t in charge of you, not really. 
“You can play a Dio song blindfolded, I bet,” You point out, still keeping enough of a hushed town that only Eddie can hear, “Your eyes were closed that entire set.”
“It was my first time back home in a while,” He defends lamely, “It helps with the nerves.”
“I thought it was really good.” 
Eddie’s eyes light up in a way you can’t ignore, bordering on shock and adoration, it’s the first real smile you’ve seen from him.
The end of class comes quicker than you want it to, forced to pack your belongings back into your bag in a rush, everyone’s already managed to file out before you can even think of zipping your bag up.
“Hey,” Eddie calls out, every other student already long gone, “here, take this.” 
It’s a flyer, similar to the one Max shoved into your hands a few weeks prior. 
A different bar, same band; one night only. 
“I’m probably breaking a thousand rules by giving you that,” He explains carefully, “but maybe you and Max could come out and watch us play—tell her I’ll even throw in some free Kate Bush.” 
Your smile is warm, folding the flyer and stuffing it into your pocket. “I told you—I’m not the type to blab, Eddie.”
You hate how easy it feels to say his name in such a setting, still dressed up in his ridiculous attempt at seeming studious and professional. You knew he hated it, he knew it too. 
“I can ask her—if not, I’ll still show.” You tell him.
He was only inviting Max to be courteous, but that wasn’t up for him to decide whether or not you actually brought her along. Either way, he was appreciative. He knew that a lot of the support he received back home was mostly done out of obligation and sympathy, but with—it felt real. He didn’t know you, he didn’t have anything to prove to you, and more importantly, you were genuine and honest; he hated that you took up this class. Hated it.
“It’s not a big deal if you can’t.” He offers as an out.
There was no way you were going to miss it, not with how Eddie was looking at you now; despite the circumstance, it was so blatantly obvious to you how badly you wanted him.
“Eddie, I’ll be there.” You assure him once more.
And if the smile that spreads over his face isn’t something worth worshiping, you’d surely find something else. 
☆.。.:*
The bar is small, on the complete opposite side of town—but Max still offers to drive you, but it’s definitely not for your own benefit. She hasn’t shut up about Eddie since you’d told her the situation, the weird looks he gives you, and the horrible filthy dreams you’ve been having; sans the super embarrassing details. She gets it—it’s incredibly amusing to her, but she gets it. 
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” You asks, fingers tapping nervously against the ripped denim of your jeans, frayed material pulled between your fingertips. “He did invite you.”
“Babe, I��m doing you a favor.” Max interjects, halfhearted smirk on her face.
“He’s my teacher—for the last time,” You begin, beyond desperation, the words falling from your tongue weren’t even believable to your own ears, “I’m not trying to fuck him, Max.”
“I did not say anything about fucking him,” She laughs amusingly, turning into the parking lot of the bar, “—it’s just not as weird as you’re making it out to be. I’ve known Eddie for a long time.”
“You’re really missing the point.” You say, rubbing the frustration on your face away with your hands, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.
“Oh whatever, don’t tell me you suddenly have some strict moral compass,” Max replies flippantly, “you want to screw him and you know it.”
The suspense is enough of an answer. There was no lying to Max, she knew just about every deepest, darkest secret you carried.
She pulls to a stop outside the entrance, turning toward you carefully, “Also—I can’t pick you up so you’re gonna have to ask him for a ride. I love you.” She rambled it off in one breath, barely giving you time to process. “See you tomorrow?”
It’s the one fight you decide not to pick with her, because for some reason, you know it’s for your own good. 
“Hey—you made it!” The familiar voice calls from behind you—Eddie, guitar case in hand, the rest of his band mates in tow. “Red.” He acknowledges, offering her a nod. “There’s parking in the back.”
“Oh—I’m not staying,” She shouts from the driver’s side, “take care of her or I’ll murder you, Munson.” 
Max is pulling off before you have any last fleeting chance to run, leaving both you and Eddie at a loss for words.
“Pulled a fast one, didn’t she?” Eddie asks after a moment, gathering by your side, following you into the bar. “She’s sneaky as hell, I’ll give her that.” 
“Yeah, you could say that.” You huff softly, watching your step as you crossed the threshold, hit in the face with the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. 
“A beaut, isn’t she?” Eddie asks sarcastically, but despite that, the bar still garnered a decent amount of attention, packed to the brim with older gentlemen—nothing like bars near campus. 
“I think I found your target audience,” You joke lightly, catching the smirk that crosses Eddie’s face as you glance over your shoulder. “I’ll fit right in.” 
Eddie slaps a twenty into your hand, “Here, drinks on me—since I forced you here,” You look at him reluctantly, “I don’t want to hear it.” 
“I didn’t plan on drinking tonight.” You insist, forcing the bill back into his hand, “I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?” He asks, eyeing you carefully, like he’s trying to find a hint or tell, something to figure out what exactly your mind was fighting against—which right now, it was the fact that Eddie looked ridiculous with eyeliner, yet, still criminally attractive.
It’s exactly why you shouldn’t have come tonight, because whatever could happen—you weren’t sure if you had it in you to shut down. 
You nod with finality. Eddie takes the money back reluctantly, stuffing it into his front pocket. He feels terrible that you have to sit there, alone—all to watch a shitty cover band play a few songs.
But to you, it was worth it. 
You sit and wait, forcing away the bartender a few times until he finally gets the message, leaving you be. It’s quiet, aside from the hum of laughter and idle conversation, Eddie and his group setting up silently onstage—that impending feeling in your gut expanding further as you watch him move around, guitar strap swung over his neck, watching shamelessly as he adjusts the instrument against his body. 
He catches your eyes then, sending you a cheeky smile that has you face burning on the spot—at this point, you care less about your professional relationship, if it could even be considered that. 
Eddie plays with all the gusto you expect, belting out lyric after lyric on his performance high; it’s unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed. It’s hard not to compare him to his classroom demeanor, more restrained and relaxed—it was forced, that was easy to tell. But this—this was Eddie, unafraid and free to behave how he pleased, it was unfair how attractive he was, both in looks and personality. It felt like you’d know him longer than just a few weeks; months maybe? Years? 
It was like hanging out with an old friend, discovering new and old things about one another; you’d spill your heart to him at a moment’s notice if he asked—and that’s why this felt so dangerous. 
☆.。.:*
“How was it?” Eddie asks as he rounds the corner, still slightly out of breath and face covered in a sheen of sweat. You hand him a napkin in silence and he laughs, but accepts the offer.
“Good,” You smile honestly, “I really enjoyed the gradual crescendo from Holy Diver into Living After Midnight—“
Eddie could kiss you on the spot, which is such a startling thought that it stops all thinking completely—you were absolutely too good to be true, it was a constant reminder every time you spoke, making him fight with this taboo feeling more and more every day. 
“Do you still need a ride home?” He asks suddenly, interrupting your waterfall of compliments, “I was going to head out already.”
“Well, considering Max left me stranded,” You say with an empty bitterness, knowing that her attentions were mostly good, “yes, I do.” 
Eddie nods a silent direction—and just like the first night, you follow without question.
☆.。.:*
The foot that isn’t pressed on the gas pedal is shaking insistently, leg bouncing against the leather of Eddie’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He can hear you humming, mumbling the song on the radio to yourself, another classic—one of Eddie’s favorites, and he really can’t help himself anymore. 
It was just a small, innocent indulgence. Who could it really hurt? You were both consenting, capable adults—and the worst thing you could do was turn him down, which Eddie really hoped wasn’t the case, but he was beyond caring about norms and rules, driven by the pure fact that he just wanted—wanted you, in any sense of the word. 
“What are you doing?” You ask curiously, watching as Eddie searched idly through his stack of music, somehow still managing his focus on the road.
“Changing the song,” He comments simply, pushing the disc into the player—the soft synth of the song pushing through the speakers of his van, “do you know it?”
“Corey Hart, right?” You ask, taking a wild guess. You’d only heard the song once, but it was still catchy enough that it stuck around in your brain, “I didn’t picture you as the type.”
“You’d be surprised.” He comments oddly, turning the volume up slightly. 
He notices the humming again, the small head bop along to the beat. “You like it.”
It’s more of a statement, rather than a question. You catch the side of his face, the small glint in his eye as he focuses back on the road.
“That's presumptuous of you,” You retort, hands twisting in your lap, “it’s alright, I guess.”
“Mind if I do a little study?” He asks hesitantly, breath catching in your throat for half a second.
“Of me?” You ask with a laugh, “I mean—if you want?”
“Your heart is racing, for one,” Eddie points out slyly, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest as the beat picked up, chorus running through the silence that filled the air, “and you’re squeezing your hands.”
“Okay, genius,” You remark, “You’ve got eyes, good for you.”
He’s not really using his degree in this situation, it’s more of an innocent observation of the already underlying tension that Eddie couldn’t help but notice—the obvious body language giving you away. The song was just a secret favorite of his, but you didn’t need to know that, not yet.
“Mind I make one?” You ask, “An observation, I mean.”
What was the harm in it anyways? Eddie nods for you to continue.
“You’ve been shaking your leg since we left.” You point out, the bouncing coming to an abrupt stop, “and I’ve never seen you do that—ever.” 
“It’s the after performance buzz.” He replies cooly, but you can’t be bothered to believe it. “It’s not that unusual.”
“Eddie—you’re making that up,” You tell him, eyeing burning into the side of his face, “what’s your deal?”
“My deal?”
“Yeah—why are you lying?” It’s a bold question to ask, heart fluttering in your chest. But, the way he looks at you has your legs crossing in frustration, squeezing together to relieve that ache growing between your legs.
“So, you want to pretend I didn’t notice that either?” He asks, eyeing the full expanse of your body before stopping on your legs, still firmly crossed in the seat, hands white knuckling each other under the long sleeves of your shirt. “Uncross your legs.”
“What? No.” You scoff, offended by his forwardness for a brief moment. 
Eddie slips his hand under your knee wordlessly, prying your legs apart. You can’t help but look at him as if he’s lost his fucking mind—that doesn’t stop your legs from following his order. It made the ache that much worse.
“Don’t,” He warns hesitantly, the small shift in your leg giving you away, “it’s not gonna help.”
“Help what?” You reply dumbly, “I can’t cross my legs? Is that a crime?”
Eddie’s gaze lingers for far too long, noticing the flush of your chest and the way it creeps up your cheeks—they felt like they were on fire. In the midst of all the back and forth, it’s hard to keep focus on the main fact at play—teacher, student, your mind screaming, wrong.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
“I can help.” He makes a subtle nod toward you.
It didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. You were very well aware of the issue. You want to weigh your options, come up with some stupid reason to wiggle out if the situation—but nothing comes to mind. The way Eddie’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel has you digging your nails into your own thigh—you’re going to cave, you can feel it. 
“Eddie.” You warn, watching as his hands lingers toward the gear shift, resting against the cracked and worn down plastic covering.
“Our secret, right?” He teases, like this whole situation wasn’t built on secrecy. You nod willingly, legs spreading a few inches wider. His fingers trail the seam of your jeans, stopping on the button, popping it open with deft fingers. “Move this way—yeah, there.” 
And when his fingers breach the seam of your underwear, your mind sings a soft praise of release, watching as his hand forces its way into the tight space, leaving him no other option but to cup your cunt with his full palm.
There was no turning back now. 
His middle finger drags through your folds testingly, matching the slow undulating beat of the song, like this was a game to him. You have no idea how to handle your hovering hands, too afraid to touch him, so they wrap around the headrest behind your head, fingers gripped tightly together.
Your legs spread wider, giving him better access—you were rutting into his hand at the shift of position, feeling that familiar tingle of pleasure as it shot through your body, mixed with the feeling of a bite of forbidden fruit, avoiding Eddie’s heated gaze as he shifted between you and the road.
It feels reckless and stupid, but you can’t find the courage to stop.
The first dip of his finger is like heaven, feeling unfamiliar after so long, despite how often you touched yourself, you couldn’t remember the last time there had ever been anyone else but you—not since the first summer after you graduated; freshly eighteen and naive, letting a much older man have you how he wanted—it’s uncanny, the situation your in now. But this, it doesn’t feel like that.
“Fuck—“ Your voice catches, stomach clenching at the curl of his middle finger as it slipped inside of you and back out, pace so insufferably slow, “—need more.”
“There she is,” He smiles to himself, confidence oozing in his tone, “—shit, you’re such a liar.”
It takes you a minute to realize that he’s not talking to you at all—which sends you down a different wave of emotions, pussy clenching around his lone finger, gasping at the way he curls it against the soft walls of your cunt, searching desperately for something out of reach.
“How long has it been like this?” He asks curiously.
Since the moment you met him, is what you want to say. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply breathlessly, back arching away from the seat, cunt pressing further against his hand as he slips a second finger inside.
At the lie, Eddie stops without warning, and it gives you a headache, that slow build of pleasure deflating immediately. 
“The truth,” He says, though, it’s more of a demand, “tell me.”
And fuck, if you weren’t putty in this man’s rough, calloused hands. 
“Since earlier,” You reply, rewarded with the soft brush of a fingertip over your clit, you quickly unzip your jeans to allow for more room, “when I saw you onstage.”
Eddie’s groan in response tells you everything you need to hear. He slows to a stop at a red light and it’s the first real glance you share with him the entire evening, both of you seeing straight through each other, bodies overran with pleasure. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He says, and it seems a little late for a realization like that, you can’t help but laugh, “what—you think it’s funny?”
“You’re the one with your hand down my pants, sir.” You retort, earning a disciplined squeeze as he shoves his two middle most fingers back into your cunt, molding around him like glue.
“Sorry—I know you hate that word,” You say playfully, “But do you mind if I use it? Or, do you prefer professor?” 
It was your turn to play into the guilt he was feeling, though it didn’t seem to be concerning if he still had his hands shoved down your pants so willingly. 
“Shut up,” He forces out, swerving slightly at the way you cunt clenched around his fingers, insides fluttering as he curves his fingers wildly, grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you, “don’t call me that.”
His hands were larger than yours, making up for all the work you missed out on. 
“Too far?” You ask teasingly, knowing that was the least of your worries; all moral lines crossed, blurred, forgotten about entirely. Eddie’s fingers pull back to graze over the sensitive nub, rubbing in small, leisurely circles, “Fuck that—that feels—“
Your moan is so unashamed that it surprises you, hips bucking up into his hands as you nearly leapt out of the seat.
Eddie can’t take the suffering much longer, pulling off onto the winding side road, tucked into a nest of trees. He unbuckles his seatbelt, allowing fuller access as he turns toward you, switching his hands with practiced ease—you couldn’t even open your eyes, face drawn up in pleasure. You knew the moment you looked at him you were done for. 
“Look at me,” His voice echoes alongside the melodic tune of the song, his fingers matching the catchy beat—the damn music aficionado he was, toying with you, fingers strumming against your swollen clit like the strings of his guitar, “—I said, look at me.”
Your body works for you, eyes opening on instinct—his voice was rough, authoritative, leaving no room for argument. 
“Good girl—It’s what you wanted, right?” He asks with a semblance of a smirk on his face, “It’s why you came tonight?”
You laugh weakly at his words, double entendre, unable to go unnoticed, “As far as I’m concerned, no one’s came tonight.”
His eyes darken, shifting toward your cunt, covered by your clothes, his wrist poking out above the thin material of your underwear. 
“You can stop—stop acting like this is my fault,” You hiccup, gasping as he applies heavy pressure to your clit, rubbing steadily, hating how shameful it feels as your cunt clenches around nothing, wishing his fingers were still buried inside you. “Please—fuck, I just—“
All self restraint forgotten, you hand searches for his face, finding its way into his curls, pulling gently at the root, the softest hint of a grunt falling from his lips—the first noticeable sign all evening that he was even slightly affected by this—by you. 
And maybe you’ve gone too far, the idea of touching him is where things go wrong, but you can’t be bothered to hold yourself together anymore. 
“It’s okay,” He assures you, leaning over the middle console, hand working quickly against your cunt, moaning loudly into the confines of the car, ashamed at how wrecked you sound, “I like it.”
He must’ve noticed your expression, lingering on his face—you could do anything and he’d fall to his knees. 
“It hurts—“ You plead, begging for release, “—please?”
It sounds too pretty coming from you, deciding that putting you out of your misery was easier than watching you suffer, on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm, Eddie’s hands feeling so much better than your own, or anyone that’s touched you before. 
Your mouth hangs open on a wordless gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the force at which your high hits you, his fingers gently coaxing you through the descending pulse of your orgasm, near the point of over stimulation.
“Okayokay—“ You ramble, fingers wrapping around the length of his wrist as you pulled him away, heart skipping in your chest at the sight of his fingers flexing against your stomach as he pulls away, fingers covered in your wetness as a result of what just happened.
Your head rests against the back of the seat, chest heaving rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “Not that I’m complaining—“ Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your hypnosis, “but you might wanna let go.” 
“Shit—I’m sorry,” You apologize softly, letting go of his hair, looking at him sheepishly, hands returning to your lap to fix your pants. 
The song had ended long ago, the gentle rumble of the engine filling the quiet like an ambiance, realization settling between you both. 
Who speaks first? 
He’s quiet, wiping his hands on a black handkerchief that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, before stuffing it into his back pocket—where it must’ve been all along. 
“I’m—“
“Should I—“
The stare you hold is long and tense, brimming with even more sexual tension than before, searching for some way to cope with whatever just happened. 
He glanced down at the hard bulge of his jeans, noticing the way your gaze catches. He shifts, pulling at the front of his jeans to adjust himself. “It’s fine.” He lies, not ready to allow this to go any further than it should have. 
“I don’t mind,” You reply slowly, voice hesitant as you lean forward, “I want to.”
He feels himself flex at the thought, the idea of your mouth—or even your hand, wrapped around, he was ruined. But, he’s insistent.
“I need to get you back to campus, right?” He asks, though the answer is obvious. It was a grasping at straw attempt to change the subject. “Red’s probably worried about you.”
Not a fucking chance.
“Yeah—you’re right.” You answer, trying to hide dejection, wanting nothing more than to touch him, as intimately as he had you. “We should go.”
It’s like he’s turning on his classroom demeanor before your eyes—and frankly, it’s ridiculous. He’s regretting every choice he just made and you know it, watching as he flips the gear into place, back on the road with one swift twist of the steering wheel. 
And it could’ve been the heat of the moment or the copious amount of drinks that Eddie had been offered that night, obscuring his rational thinking—but he didn’t reek of alcohol, not a single drop on his breath. So, if anything, it was regret, obvious and plastered over his entire face. 
But to Eddie, it's shame. 
Shame at the idea of breaking so many rules, risking his job at the hands of some young women—who he couldn’t help but be lured by, entranced at how much of an enigma you were. He couldn’t describe it, couldn’t even put it into words. 
And even after he drops you off that night, he comes in his hand, against the soft expanse of his stomach, the image of your face in his mind as you come apart by the work of his own hand. 
He knew there was no going back, allowing himself to fully succumb to the idea that if you were willing to let him have you like that, you’d let him do just about anything. 
It was exactly what you wanted. 
author's note: and an extra special thank you to @hellfirehoe for dealing with my nonstop horny thoughts about this and helping me proofread.
9K notes · View notes
sttoru · 7 months
Note
!!! geto hate fuck turning into something really damn passionate! reader repeatedly moaning apologies until geto had given us a bath of his warm cum <3
ONE MORE, ONCE MORE.
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⟣ note. listen this turned out way toooo detailed than what i had expected it to be HLPP i got lost in the story irlly just wanted to make this a 100 word drabble oopsies
⟣ tags. mean dom / ex!geto suguru x female reader. smut. hate fucking, mention of slapping, creampie, dirty talk; degradation, name calling; ‘slut’, spriiinkle of overstimulation, slight size difference, uhh dumbification once i think.
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all you did was throw non-stop insults at him — about his attitude, abilities, skills. . . maybe his choice of clothing too. well, that last one was purely added due to your own pettiness.
the heated argument had started when you came over to your ex-boyfriend’s house to pick up the last few items you had left there before the break up. the reason of why you two decided to go off against one another was long forgotten.
that was solely due to the underlying tension between you two. there was something about seeing suguru in such a furious mood that was extremely attractive — he secretly had the exact same thoughts about you too.
the sexual tension seemed to peak once suguru had stopped your hand from coming in touch with his face. it was intended to be a slap to the face out of frustration, however nothing came out of it.
. . maybe except for the fact that you were the one getting slapped now—though in a more sexual way;
“sorry? yeah, hah, too fuckin’ late.” suguru spits whilst keeping your wrists pinned above your head, hips ramming against yours, throbbing cock now balls deep inside you, “should’ve taught twice before catching an attitude with me, sweetheart.”
oh, he was livid. that ‘sweetheart’ didn’t hold its usual sweetness. it was filled with spite, though just a crumble of longing laid underneath. as if he missed you — as if he still yearned for you.
“‘m sorry, sorr—sorry, suguru !” you mewl. that’s all you could manage to do under the grasp of that man as he had you pinned to the couch in the living room, your face a crying mess from both the argument and the turn of events.
one thing about suguru that you did certainly miss was the way he could pleasure you. he did it so well, so precisely—no other man you had been with could ever compare. it’d be a lie to say that you weren’t glad your little visit turned out like this;
“ah, fuck—missed seeing your pretty face like this,” suguru whispers under his breath, lips grazing against yours for a single second. it was enough to leave you stunned and even more embarrassed. exactly what he was trying to accomplish, “missed seeing you cry, drool and beg for my cock. missed seeing you being a little slut for me.”
your nails were digging onto suguru’s triceps, teary eyes looking at him like you were begging him to help you reach your climax — for him not to stop once you were so close to that point of no return. you knew your ex had a thing for edging you, though that’s the last thing you want right now.
not when this felt so right. the way suguru was fucking you was rough and harsh, like he was outing his frustrations on you, but it also slowly started to turn into something more passionate. seeing your tears, hearing your sobs and your pleas definitely made suguru soften up a bit more.
it was almost like he was back to his usual self; the soft and gentle boy you had met in high school. it didn’t seem like the suguru you had broken up with; the guy whose ideals clashed with yours.
“fuuuuck, ‘m sorry, suguru—promise w-won’t say anything like that anymore !” you try and beg once more, though were quickly shut up when suguru went in for a kiss. you instantly melt, not caring about any consequences in this moment—not when he’s fucking you so well. treating you so well.
his tongue invaded your mouth for a couple seconds, groaning at the feeling, before pulling away with a small grin. his harsh thrusting motions eventually turn into gentle yet frustrating grinding ones. he drove his cock into your sopping wet cunt so extremely slow that it made you beg once more.
“shh, shh. don’t overuse that little brain of yours and just cum for me, yeah? that’s all i need you to do, darling.” suguru encourages with a cocky yet sweet smirk.
he was proud that he still had it; the power and skills to drive you insane with pleasure and satisfaction. especially when he was grinding into you ever so slowly, tip grazing against your cervix with each motion.
you were right at the edge of euphoria; almost there. as was suguru, which was obvious due to the increased intensity of his hip movements, switching once more to fierce thrusts. the coil in your stomach was threatening to snap—
“mnhh, can’t wait to fill that pretty pussy again.” the dark-haired man teases through a series of grunts, already imagining the perfect picture: your cunt overflowing with that familiar sticky liquid, watching it dribble out of you.
claiming you as his. even if you weren’t anymore, suguru still had the urge to. he needed - no - desired you back. he wanted to show you those feelings and thus decides to do exactly that by finishing your little session in the best way possible,
“oh, fuck!”
whilst you were still babbling incoherent apologies, suguru had already given up on holding back. he swore to have never released so much. ever.
the warmth filling your insides was a sensation you hadn’t thought you’d have missed this much. you gasp and finish yourself off solely due to the feeling of suguru’s cum spreading in your womb.
“. . . i missed this — i missed you.” your ex-boyfriend sighs and collapses on top of you, not even bothering to pull out. you instinctively wrap your arms around his back and keep him there.
suguru doesn’t protest and just rests his head next to yours, kissing your cheek gently. a simple peck, yet it was filled with emotion.
“missed you too.” you reply quietly. it stays silent like that for a while. there was no need to speak any more—not when the silence spoke volumes;
neither of you seemed to be in the mood to separate from each other. not again.
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lavendermunson · 8 months
Text
dancing with our hands tied — eddie munson
୨ৎ ˙ ˖
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summary Eddie seems to live in constant hell except when he is with you.
tags +18. eventual smut. friends to best friends to lovers. angst. pining. no upside down. slight chrissy x eddie and jealous reader. fingering. p in v without protection; be smart irl. no use of y/n, eddie calls reader peach. lose of virginity.
tw eddie has an older brother who punches him. slight mentions of blood and violence. alcohol. mention of drugs. if i forgot anything lmk!
w.c 7.6 k
a/n hey people! it’s the first time i write something like this. the fic is divided in tiny chapters that are titled by the lines of taylor’s song (see title) i hope it’s easy to understand and let me know if you like the format ♡ enjoy!
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I. First sight, we love without reason.
It came to you as a surprise, really. The moment he sat down on the nearest seat to start the tutoring lesson. The secret is Eddie has always been good at English, it’s a thing among others that he kept as a secret. You weren’t sure why he would hide it, even lie about it.
You and Eddie became friends easily. But you wish the relationship had more meaning, you weren’t friends just school friends. The worst kind of friend you could be with someone as cool and pretty as Eddie.
One day, in the early morning of a cloudy Thursday Eddie attended school with a black eye. He rushed past you mumbling a kind Hey and going his way. You said hi back but it was too late, he was gone.
You missed him the rest of the day, he didn’t show up to class. His friends were alone at lunch. There was no sign of Eddie until later, tutoring sessions.
He slumps on the chair next to you, taking a deep breath and scratching his scalp nervously. His hands were shaking as he started to scribble on your textbook.
Your mind wasn’t focused on the textbook once, you looked longingly at the maroon-tinted bruise on his eye. A cut, maybe 12 hours old, rested on the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting” you whispered “I can’t keep my eyes off…your… are you okay, Eddie?” you pointed your finger at his eye, and he turned his head to look at you.
“Yeah, no don’t worry” he sighs, shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair and taking a deep look at your face.
Your mouth has formed a pout and your brows are furrowed, Eddie tried to read your mind and he succeeded. You were worried.
“My stupid older brother, he comes in unexpectedly, and when I tried to kick him out of the trailer he punched me”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Eddie” You lean your head to the side, his face looks better from this angle.
He looks tired, the punch looks like it hurts a lot, more if it came from a person of his own bloodline.
“You know what, we can study another time and you can go rest” Your hands are quick to close the textbook, gathering all your stuff as Eddie’s body comes closer to you.
He takes your wrist on his hand, with a little more pressure than intended. When your mouth leans to the side he realizes he is hurting you (not too much, but still he didn’t mean it).
“No, I'm sorry” he drops your hand on your lap, delicately “We can study, I'm fine. Please I need the money”
“I know, I will pay you. But I can’t sit here and I can't focus knowing you are in pain or your mind is somewhere else” You smile at him, and he nods.
“Thanks…I'm having a really bad day. I cannot thank you enough, tomorrow we can study double I promise”
“Don’t worry, I got you” You head out of the library beside him “Take care of that, it looks like it’s going to stay there for a while”
He giggles at your comment, you are not sure why. You pay him for today and he smiles at you.
“Thank you, Peach”
He didn’t talk about his family much, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was something interesting to talk about. His mom left a few years ago, along with his older brother, leaving little Eddie and Uncle Wayne alone.
You knew Wayne from one of Eddie’s stories he told you about. He loves the man like he is his own father, but he is in a lot of debt with him.
Wayne takes care of Eddie as if he’s his own child. He surely loves Eddie like that. He works most of the day and night leaving his nephew alone in the trailer park.
One of those cold and lonely nights Eddie’s brother came to visit him at the trailer park only seeking some money. He was out of luck, and so was Eddie, when his furious brother came in and punched him in the face. Not once, but twice.
Eddie’s head and face hurt the rest of the night. He unfortunately overslept and didn’t get a chance to start school properly so he chose to show up just to the tutoring sessions. He needed the cash, you needed help.
II. Picture of your face in an invisible locket.
A week has passed since Eddie’s brother came to town. You’ve grown closer to Eddie than before.
You hang out after school now that tutoring lessons are over, he invites you to Hellfire Club to watch the campaigns and you sit there watching the whole thing unravel. He had a great imagination, and a wonderful mind full of creative stories and riddles. The kids enjoy his company as much as you do.
He talked about his problems at home with you, trying to get the ugly feeling out of his chest. You listened to him buying him a cup of ice cream and enjoying the wonderful summer breeze.
“I enjoy being with you,” he said “You are a great friend, Peach”
You smiled at him. He smiled at you. His dimples showed up for the first time since you’ve known him, a simple gesture that knocked some sense on you, you had a crush on him.
“Me too, Eds”
Your relationship with Eddie has evolved, not only do you have pet names for each other but it seems like you are best friends. It’s been some weeks since the first time he offered to tutor you and you accepted immediately.
You’ve always liked Eddie, he is his true self every time and he is proud of it.
You admire it.
People at school used to call him awful names, it was always like that until he met Chrissy. The popular kids are the ones that make more fun of him as if it wasn’t exhausting for them to be assholes and jerks nine hours a day. They have toned their jokes down knowing that the queen of Hawkins has a soft place for Eddie and he is more than happy hanging out with her sometimes.
That made your heart ache, it was a dreadful feeling.
After spending some time with Eddie you went home. Still under that lavender haze of accepting that you had a crush on him for a while. It was embarrassing to you only because you were so, so obsessed with him.
His face. His hands. His scent. His hair. Realizing everything about him made you crazy was scary, he only had eyes for one person who was the most perfect cheerleader in the history of high school.
To distract your mind from all the lousy thoughts you took a shower, it was quick, you needed to brush off the sweat and release some tension with a thorough massage on your scalp. The lavender shampoo lingered in the air, relaxing every inch of your body.
After the shower, it was time to eat some dinner. Instead of making a complicated meal you decided to heat some leftovers from yesterday and enjoy your evening eating and dancing in the kitchen with some of your old records playing upbeat songs to cheer you up.
A knock on your door makes you jump after finishing dinner. No one used to come by at this hour, not when your dad was out of town.
You get close to the door and look through the peephole to see who’s interrupting your godly moment. It was Eddie.
A gasp falls out of your mouth and you open the door as quickly as possible. You meet Eddie’s trembling body standing in front of you, his lip is bleeding and his eyes are watering.
“God, Eds…” you whisper, he leans closer to you, wrapping his hands around your neck and hugging you.
You didn’t say anything else, just mirrored his movements and wrapped his waist with your arms. Taking a few steps back and leading him in, you close the door with your foot and he stands there, still not letting you go.
You rub his back as he tries to ease his breath.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to go so I-” he takes a step back breaking contact with you, his head falls as his eyes look at his feet.
“He, he did this to you again?” he broke contact so fast you decided to stay in your place, careful not to overwhelm him with unwanted touches.
“Yeah, shit shit, sorry I should've called. My mind sort of blacked out and the only thing I could remember was your street and the color of your house, the one with the weird birdhouse…”
“Eds, it’s okay” you interrupt “Let me help you, alright? let me clean your wound and make you some hot chocolate”
He nods, walking with you to the bathroom and past your bedroom. You are quick to find the first aid kit, taking some rubbing alcohol and gauze to clean Eddie’s cut. He hisses at the stingy feeling in his mouth, you apologize and he encourages you to continue.
And there you are, with the boy that you like so much. He leans on the counter closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel at peace with you around him.
You stand between his legs, his inner thighs rubbing the exposed skin of your thighs. The ungodly thoughts need to go away so you blink pretty fast, focusing, it’s not the moment nor the place nor the person.
You finish up cleaning his wound and placing a band aid over it to avoid any sort of discomfort while it heals.
“It’s ready” Eddie opens his eyes, finding you in front of him. So close. The white light in the bathroom makes you look like an angel.
“Thank you, peach” he squeezes your cheek slightly. Neither of you move from where you stand, so close to each other but so far at the same time.
“It’s nothing, let’s make you some chocolate”
“Wait, I'm not really hungry. I need to clear my mind and feel at peace for a bit, ‘m just gonna go back to my place to rest but again… thank you” he stands up straight and you step back, missing the heat of his body.
“No! you can’t go back, it's dangerous. My dad is out of town, you can stay here”
His head leans down to one side, he looks at you concerned.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course. Anything for my best friend” you say. It’s the first time you call him like that. It’s the first time anybody has called him like that.
“Thank you, again, thank you”
“No problem, let me get you some fresh clothes”
You get Eddie some of your oversized clothes that only get out of your closet on rainy days. You give him some space to change and freshen up in the bathroom, getting him a new toothbrush and a towel so he can wash his face.
When he gets out you offer him the guest room, he immediately denies it and asks if he can sleep with you. You shake your head and show him a gentle smile.
“Is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or bother you” he asks while you get the bed ready to sleep.
“It’s okay, Eds. I get that you don’t want to be alone, do not worry”
You get in bed, he drops his body beside you. Both of you rest your head on the pillows while looking at the ceiling.
“You can stay here in the morning if you don’t want to go to school, I do have to go and hand in this paper I’ve been working on”
“Thank you, I owe you one,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and letting out a sigh.
“You don’t, I’m happy to help you” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, Eds”
“Goodnight, sweetheart”
The pet name falls from his lips so beautifully.
You close your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, aware that the heat of your cheeks is present leaving a pink tint.
You are thankful it’s dark and Eddie is about to fall asleep so he won’t notice.
When you fall asleep Eddie does too. It takes him a couple of seconds to get into a deep sleep, he hasn’t slept like this in weeks, all thanks to the torture of his stupid brother and the constant thought of him coming back to punch him.
He feels safe around you and he is more than grateful to be your friend.
III. ‘Cause it’s gravity, keeping you with me.
Eddie has been staying over at your house multiple times, Your dad is out of town and you appreciate the company, his company. Sometimes he comes with you right after school, other times after he hangs out with Chrissy. You are not sure of what kind of relationship they have but it still hurts your heart every time he laughs at something she says.
You are thankful for having him over. The nights consist of movies, old tv shows, watching the commercials on the tv, and listing in your head what to buy next for these reunions.
The last slice of pizza remains in the box, it should be cold and washy but
Eddie is fine with it. He watches you from the corner of his eye, your gaze glued to him.
“Sorry, did you want the last slice?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts into reality.
“Huh? No, no you have it”
“Sure?”
“I hate it when the pizza is cold” Your mouth falls to the side, and you look at the slice with disgust.
“Bummer, I’ll have this baby for myself”
He raises his hand with the slice between his fingers, his head falls to the back and he takes a bite of the tip of the slice. You watch him in awe, not really thinking about how weird it is to watch Eddie eat, but your eyes can never leave his face. His mouth opens and his jaw tightens when he takes a bite, and another, and another until he finishes it.
“Don’t know why you pushed this aside, it was so good”
The corner of his mouth is full of tomato sauce and cheese grease, you laugh at him shaking your head.
“You have something… there” you point with your finger, Eddie furrows his brows and leans his head to the side looking like a confused puppy.
“Where? Here?” He wipes his mouth and smiles victorious, although it is the opposite side.
“No, here”
You get closer to him. His body is fully turned to the left so you sit in front of him kneeling.
He watches you getting close, he takes a deep breath as his Adam’s apple bobs as a result of his own nerves. You are too close, you’ve never been this close –just once when he hugged you – not even when you two are sleeping in your bed.
As you take the napkin to clean his face you get the opportunity to get closer, you wipe his mouth slowly and pinch his chin between your fingers. You breathe and he is mixing up, the room feels suddenly too hot.
Eddie wants to give in, he gets his head closer. He doesn't care about anything, just you. The only source of light is the TV which gives a shadow of multiple colors on your face, it’s adorable. Your body, your naked thighs, your pretty face so close. He is about to kiss you until you speak.
Shit.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot”
“How do you punch someone?” you ask, he shakes his head confused shaking off the thoughts he had earlier. He was so close to kissing you, but he couldn’t. You are his best friend.
“Wow,” Eddie laughs, grinning “Who do you want to punch, exactly?”
“I met someone”
Your news hit Eddie in the chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this but he is… jealous?
“He told me to go to this party with him… and a friend told me I should be prepared for everything”
“Everything? Like if he wants to get in your pants you’d punch him?”
“Only if he is a real jerk and thinks he is too smart”
Eddie nods, he takes your hands in his standing up from the couch. You follow him.
“Alright, pay attention”
He drops one of your hands and takes your dominant hand in his, the cold rings on his fingers keep you from falling apart from his touch.
“The secret is in your hips and shoulders, that’s where the power comes from okay?”
“Yeah, but please don’t teach me how to kill someone. I just want to throw a little punch if needed”
“I know, peach” he laughs “Stand up like this” His stance looks professional, maybe he has done this before. Maybe to protect himself from his older brother.
“First things first, your stance gives you balance so you don’t fall to the floor and break your nose too y’know?”
“Am I going to break his nose?” you ask, a little scared of what you are getting yourself into.
“No! ‘M just saying. You don’t have a lot of strength to do that, don’t worry”
“Like this?” You mimic his stance, feeling a little awkward.
"Exactly. Now, focus on your fist” He hasn’t dropped your hand yet “Curl your fingers in, and tuck your thumb under them. This way, you won't hurt your hand when you punch”
“Why do I feel like I shouldn't be learning this?”
“You are fine, watch” Your hands form a perfect fist, Eddie holds it in his hands and tries to set you up on the perfect stance. Your knuckles turn a bit white as you focus on the lesson “See? Perfect”
“I got it”
"Now punch me,” he says, he is serious.
“What?”
“C’mon I’ve taken the worst punches, bet yours will feel light as a feather” he grins. Inside he feels dumb for aching your touch so much even if it means taking a hit “Twist your body and extend your arm in a straight line, then go straight to my cheek” his fingertip touches his cheek “Not my nose! Please” he remarks, but at the same time he is encouraging you.
“Alright,” you do as he says, swinging your arm back and forth. Your fist comes into contact with his cheek and he groans in pain, his head falls to one side.
“Jesus H. Christ!” he caresses his cheek with the palm of his hand “I underestimated you” A chuckle falls from his lips, and you are covering your mouth with your hands surprised. Your eyes are glassy.
“No, no don’t cry I’m fine”
“I’m so sorry Eddie. I thought- fuck, I didn’t see that coming! I am so fucking-sorry, sorry” you cry, your cheeks glow red as embarrassment washes over you.
“No, don’t” he is still laughing “Oh god, come here”
Eddie opens his arms and wraps them around your shoulders. This is the second time you hug him, and this time it feels different. One of his hands rubs your back to calm you down as you keep murmuring sorry. He keeps thinking you are the most adorable thing on the planet.
“Do we count this as tutoring? Am I getting cash for getting punched in the face?” he chuckles.
You bury your face in his chest, hugging his body tightly. He feels you trying to get closer.
“Yeah, yeah if you want”
“I'm joking, peach, you did good!”
You smile at the praise, although he can’t see it.
“Thank you for teaching me”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. It was a pleasure” he breaks the hug, and his hands come to rest on your arms. He is not giving up touching you “I hope whoever you punch… you do it harder than this one” he smiles.
As you watch his face, hypnotized, you smile back.
“I will, only if he is a jerk…”
“Or thinks he is too smart, gotcha” he interrupts, filling up the rest of the sentence “But you know if someone bothers you, you can call me and I will kick his ass right?”
“I’m a big girl, Eds. I can take care of myself”
“That I see! ‘M just offering, You did good honey” He pinches your cheek, and the new pet name hits right above your stomach where your anxiety rests. He has never called you that before, you feel the heat on your cheeks.
“We- uhm, we should sleep is getting late” You watch the clock, it is 3 am already.
“Oh shit, yeah. Let’s go”
IV. I’m a mess but i’m the mess that you wanted.
Watching Eddie kissing Chrissy was a punch on the tits. His hands are on her waist, she grabs his jacket getting closer. Their mouths were glued to each other. You were sure this was the night, this was the night you would tell Eddie your feelings, but instead, you decided to meet up with the guy you told him about. Ignoring your feelings for Eddie.
Nothing ever comes out as you wish, after punching the guy for trying to touch your ass after he didn’t even know you were in his math class, you punched him. Your hand hurts, but it was worth it.
You try to find Eddie but he isn’t around. Ignoring the feeling in your chest, you decide to fill the guilt and the secrets with alcohol.
After a lot of refills, the living room’s bottles are empty so you make your way around the house to find more. That’s when you find Eddie, you take your sixth? seventh? Cup of the night and walk to him.
“Eds!”
Your voice is like honey to him, he didn’t want to be here but as soon as Chrissy mentioned you were coming with “the guy” he wanted to be there. She was nowhere to be seen after spending some time with him.
“I did it! I punched him!” you mumble, proud of your achievement and so, so drunk.
“Fuck, I missed it?”
“Yeah, I have been looking for you everywhere to tell you” You lie, you’ve seen him multiple times and ignored him. It was a decision that sober you took. Drunk you is a little more insistent “I didn't think you were coming”
“Chrissy wanted to be here, I'm just keeping her company… was, she left” he looks around, but she is still somewhere else.
Her name rings in your ears, your stomach crumbles.
“Well, let’s get drunk!”
Deep down Eddie is grateful that the guy you were meeting up with fucked up everything and now you are with him. Chrissy is nowhere to be seen and you seem like you need someone to watch you. Take care of yourself.
You are so drunk, your whole body feels light and your head is in the clouds. Maybe you are a little bit high too.
“Can we find somewhere more quiet? I wanna smoke” Eddie finds himself screaming, the music getting louder with the minutes.
“Sure, let’s go”
You hold a red solo cup with something in it, enough to make you more tipsy. You follow Eddie outside, to the porch. The night is hot and Eddie realizes your dress is too short. He takes a deep breath, looking at your thighs as you take a sip from the cup.
Eddie lights a cigarette and takes a peek at the party from outside, The window leaves a space so the warm light of the house hits your face. The night at your house, the one when he almost kisses you comes back to his head. A side of your face lit up by the chaos inside, yet you look so peaceful, so beautiful.
“I need more of this. I- shit I forgot the n-name” you slur your words again, taking a step forward. Eddie takes your wrist in his hand, stopping you.
“What the fuuuuck?” you say.
“I think that’s enough for today, let’s go home”
Your whole body is on fire, all of your insides begging for more alcohol.
“Home? What? I didn’t know we lived together!”
“C’mon, peach. You know what I mean” Eddie’s cigarette bounces on his mouth, his voice is firm and his free hand comes to cup your waist.
“No, no. Let’s go dance here” You take his hand, the alcohol makes you bold. He follows you to the living room after dropping his cigarette.
The music is too loud, you empty the cup you had and throw it away.
“I’ll be right back, need to take a piss'” Eddie says, disappearing. You don’t hear him.
His “girlfriend” is still ignoring him, but he remembers what she said. She got mad because he was looking for you, and she got jealous too. Chrissy wanted all the attention but Eddie was giving it to you.
He stopped eating lunch with her, he was with you instead. Talking about random tv commercials that you thought were clever, it was some of an inside joke.
As he comes back from the bathroom he hears a crowd cheering, he is so done with this party, tired of the happy sappy music playing over and over, and the smell of sweat and alcohol makes him sick. He makes an effort to find you and he does.
There you are, standing on the table dancing. You were dancing, making some sexual moves that all the guys were screaming. Your hips move as the music gets to your ears, the whole room electrified by this little show.
Eddie’s face goes beet red, he can’t take this. He isn’t enjoying this.
Jealousy takes over him and he grabs your hand, yanking you down and letting you fall on his shoulder.
He carries you away from the table, a hand comes behind your back and he places his palm on your ass in an attempt to stop your dress from going up. You feel the cold of his rings again, your whole body lights up in anger as he carries you outside.
“Let me down! Eddie, I'm not joking!”
“Whine for as long as you want, I’m taking you home”
“Eddie please, I'm going to throw up”
He gives up, he lets you down and you pick up your breath. You place a hand on your belly trying to steady yourself and make the nausea go away.
“I need a moment… just give me a–”
“No! I know you will go back inside. You can’t even walk by yourself”
“Yes, I can! Don’t- don’t try to babysit me” you bicker.
He lets out a deep sigh, he is not letting you go back and you know it.
He wants to protect you, but more, he wants you to be with him and not dancing and showing off for anybody else. Yes, he was jealous and it was time to admit it. His feelings for Chrissy were never as intense as what he feels when he is with you.
“Sweetheart-”
“Don’t call me that!” you scream, his eyes open wide.
“Please just-”
He tries to hug you but you don’t let him.
“I'm not your sweetheart! The other day you called me like that too and I- what are you doing to me?”
“I don’t- fuck, what are you talking about?” Eddie is confused, you are acting like you don’t want him around, and that hurts him.
“I- I like you, Eddie! I fucking like you so bad but you… You don’t and I know it!” you have no time to breathe, the alcohol encourages you to confess your feelings.
“Peach-”
“No! No, I- I like you since that first day of tutoring… I’ve liked you since then and you don’t know how fucking hard it is to oh- sleep with you and you- almost fucking kissed me and I panicked. This, you, her- it’s too much ah- go away!” you cry out, your head is spinning and you can feel your temples aching.
This wasn’t planned, future you will kill you for this. But right now in the heat of the moment, you let Eddie know how you feel. Your whole body aches and your heart is shattered.
“I know you like her! Just- I don't want to talk to you right now!”
A salty taste lingers in your mouth, your tears. Your arms ache from the sudden cold breeze as the night gets darker. It’s maybe two or three in the morning. You are drunk and high. Eddie’s brain seems to stop working.
He is quiet, looking at the grass under his feet. It hurts seeing you like this.
“Fuck!” you turn around and start walking, thinking you can walk home from here knowing it’s impossible.
“Hey! Let me take you home”
You stop.
“Please, I won't stay. I’ll drop you off and go to my trailer- you can’t get home by yourself” he is right.
You don’t move. Too heartbroken to say everything else or even turn around to see him. You are ashamed, he can’t even look you in the eyes.
He sees you waiting for him and he asks you to follow him to his van.
The ride home is long and torturous. He didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you don’t blame him. Who could fall for a mess like you?
You fall asleep in the passenger seat of his van, he opens the door carefully and carries you to your bed. He wants to change your clothes but he knows it is not okay, he does peek at your naked thighs before covering your body with the sheets.
His calloused fingers move the hair off your face “I like you too, peach” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. You can’t hear him of course, he knows it damn well.
V. Deep fears that the world would divide us.
The last time you talked to Eddie was two weeks ago. He didn’t know how to talk to you since that night, he didn’t know what to tell you. It is now summer break, you are in your bed facing the ceiling and letting the air from your window hit your sweaty body.
You were so bored. Without Eddie it feels like the world just turned gray, you regret everything you said that night. He never should’ve known.
He is now in his trailer, maybe with Chrissy. Your brain starts to think of a hundred scenarios. They could be spending time at the local pool, going to starcourt and eating ice cream, trying on some new clothes, or playing at the arcade.
You miss him. Your whole body aches without him by your side. Your bed feels so empty.
Tears start rolling down your cheeks, you are all alone in this gigantic house. It doesn’t feel like home, not without him.
You can’t pick a book and read it to kill time because every book you own is about romance.
You can’t watch movies without Eddie’s sudden comments.
You can’t even watch fucking commercials without him.
So you just let yourself on your bed, waiting for the sheets to swallow you whole.
Night came by after a nap, it was time to close the windows to stop the mosquitoes. It was time to eat so you headed down to the kitchen, the leftovers seem to always keep you company.
You wish he came back. Knocking at your door and getting in. Kissing you.
It doesn’t happen. To you. But it can happen to him.
You take your keys in your hands and head down to the trailer park, it isn’t that late so you go by yourself. With your clammy hands tapping on the steering wheel and a feeling of uncertainty.
It takes you from ten to fifteen minutes to get there and you park your car close to Eddie’s trailer. You’ve given him a ride home before, you know where he lives.
As you get closer to his trailer you hear screams. The door of his trailer opens suddenly and makes you jump. A tall and slightly old man comes out of the trailer, his white tank top is covered with some blood.
No, no, no. You mumble under your breath and run to the trailer. You find Eddie with a cut on his lip, his eye is purple already and his nose is bleeding.
“Eddie?” you whisper, he panics.
“No, no you can’t be here” he gets up from the floor and places his hands on your arms, pushing you out.
“Why? Please I just want to talk”
“You can’t be here! He- if he does something to you I’m never going to forgive myself Please just leave” his breath quickens, and his chest rises up and down. He is nervous, he is scared. The feelings are contagious.
“Come with me, please. Eds-”
“Just fucking leave! please please please, leave right now”
Nothing you do is going to convince him you should stay, as much as you want to. You hear screams of an angry man getting close to the trailer.
Running out back to your car and driving home, the radio becomes an annoying background noise screeching. Your heart is beating so fast out of fear, and your hands are trembling.
You set yourself down on your bed once you get home. You are scared of what could happen to Eddie. You know he is in danger and you also know he doesn’t want to see you.
The tears come back, your eyes are blurry and the walls feel like they are closing in and are about to crush you. You cover yourself with the sheets, as some type of protection, just like when you were little and scared. Yes, you are scared now, so fucking scared. But there is nothing you can do now so you sleep, and you fall asleep crying, again.
VI. I'd kiss you as the lights went out.
The next day goes by quickly, it’s currently midnight and you are sitting in front of the tv watching a random documentary about dolphins. You’ve slept all day so sleep is not an option. A huge bucket of ice cream in your hands gives you a cold feeling of serenity.
A knock on the door makes you jump, the thing you’ve been waiting for.
You open it quickly, and Eddie is there. You look at him with sadness in your eyes, some of his wounds have healed since yesterday.
“Before you say anything… I am sorry, sweetheart” You don’t let him in, and he doesn’t take a step forward “I like you too. I like you so much. I tried to date Chrissy because I thought I could get my mind distracted by the fact that I'm crazy for you. "He licks his lips, he moves his hands in the air as he always does when he explains something or rambles about a thing he loves.
“I was scared to tell you, that night at the party I swear all I could think about was- fuck, I wanted to rip those clothes off of you and kiss every part of your body but I was fucking terrified” his chest rises up and down, his heart is bumping in his ribcage. “I didn’t want to say anything because 
I didn’t want to lose you, You are too good to me and I didn’t want you to be with someone like me-”
“You don’t get to make that choice for me” you interrupt, your own heart is beating so fast it could burst.
“I know, I know. That’s why I'm here… is it too late to hang out? Look, I slept all day and some little bird named Steve told me the sunrise at Lovers Lake looks awesome and I really just want to be with you” 
You look at him, he is standing at your door confessing his love to you and, weirdly, it doesn’t feel like a dream. It all feels too real, too peaceful.
“A date at midnight? Did you plan this because you look like you even showered”
He lets out a big laugh. You see those dimples you love so much.
“I- I wouldn’t see it as a date because I think we’ve had tons of them” he shakes his head, and his curls bounce with the movement. “Pretty please? Join me on this adventure”
“We must be connected by some kind of thread because I slept all day too” you chuckle, he laughs with you “Sure, I want to be with you. Let me change and I’ll be right back”
You head upstairs quickly as Eddie goes back to his van for something. 
With the quickest movements in the world, you manage to get yourself some pretty clothes, a tiny bit of makeup and fix your hair.
Running to the first floor to meet Eddie, your legs stop working as he stands up in your living room with a bouquet.
“You did have this prepared” You are smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt, but you can stop it. After days of missing him, he is now here and everything feels right.
“I did. You look- you look beautiful” he looks at you from the bottom to the top, taking every detail of your figure. “I mean, you always look so beautiful I just-”
You come closer to him, he hands you the bouquet and you take it. 
“You are beautiful too, Eds”
Your fingers touch his cheeks, he feels the warmth and breathes in to take everything in. Your scent, your touch, the closeness. Your cheeks have a pink tint from blushing and it makes you look so pretty. He leans in and in a second, his lips are touching yours.
You gasp at the sudden feeling, your whole body electrifies. His hands come to rest on your lower back, keeping you close to him. Your hands travel to his shoulders as you stand on your tippy toes.
His lips trap your bottom lip, sucking in your taste. Your whole heart flutters as your head goes back to catch some air.
“I wanted to do that for so long” 
Goosebumps travel from your arms to your lips, missing him already.
“Me too” you bite your lip.
“C’mon, let’s go watch the sunrise sweetheart”
VII. Deep blue but you painted me golden.
The trip to Lovers Lake in the middle of the night resulted in love confessions and a heavy make out session, Eddie packed the back of his van with christmas lights, sheets, and blankets along with some pillows. 
You and Eddie sitting in front of each other, his lips crashing into yours as sweet as honey.
“So yeah- that time when you sat down and started tutoring me I fought so hard to pay attention but I just loved the sound of your voice” You take a sip of beer.
“It was hard to teach you when your confused face is just so adorable. 
Every pout you gave me was a kiss I wanted to give you” Eddie laughs.
“You can give me all the kisses you want now, I'm all yours”
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his face glows pink and you let out a chuckle.
“Honey, I will” he takes a sip from his own beer, finishing it.
Alcohol makes both of you giddy, dozy, and dumb. Or maybe it’s just the love you have for each other.
“What time is it?” you murmur against his lips, his hands travel from your waist to the back of your head.
“I have- no idea” he stops, with his head leaned slightly back he watches you. Your lips are puffy and pink, his too. Both of you have a maroon tint on your cheeks. “It’s almost six, we have time” he peeks at the clock on his left hand. 
“Alright, c’mere” With your hands placed on his shoulders, you try to get closer to him. 
You kiss him. He is addicted to your taste already. 
This time the kiss is messy and uncoordinated. His teeth collide with yours, saliva drops from the corner of your mouth. 
With a firm hand caressing your back, Eddie helps you fall back with your body pressed against the sheets. Your head rests on a pillow as he gets comfortable on top of you.
You can feel the van getting hotter, a cloud of passion and love around you. Eddie makes a quick move with his knee as it presses against your hot core. 
Absent-mindedly you start to grind against his knee, feeling the combination of friction with his sloppy kisses sending chills through your spine.
His lips now travel all the way to your neck, he presses sweet wet kisses against your skin.
“Eddie-” you whisper, letting the air out of your lungs. “I want you”
You have been dreaming about this, he has been dreaming about this. 
This moment. This very golden moment is going to live in your head forever.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his lips tingling your skin.
“I’m sure, please”
He takes a break from the kisses, looking at your sweet face. 
“Have you ever…?” he asks.
“No,” you bite your lip nervously.
“I’ll take care of you, I promise”
You nod, and he returns to kissing your neck. One of his hands travels to your thighs, he gives a slight massage on them making his way closer to the heat between your legs. 
His cock gets hard against his pants as he feels the wet spot between your legs.
“You are so soaking wet, peach-”
With both hands, he takes off your panties, gently. He is so gentle with you. 
“And so, so pretty”
Eddie starts to rub your clit with his thumb, his circular motions make your toes curl. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. With his mouth pressed against your jaw two of his fingers get inside you slowly, the pain of it quickly goes away and turns into lust. His fingers move in and out, making sure not to hurt you and make you feel good. 
Your back curls and your thigh touches the bulge on his pants. 
“Eds, please”
“What do you want, princess? Say it”
“I want you to fuck me”
Your voice makes his heart flutter. He leans in to kiss you more as he curls your fingers inside you. 
“Oh god, Ed-Eddie” you mewl, your head too giddy to make up words.
“Good girl” his voice is now deeper, and his pupils dilate as his body perks up with electricity.
His fingers leave your pussy, you whine and he tells you not to worry. 
He is gentle on taking your clothes off, smiling after admiring every inch of you. He wets his lips with his tongue admiring your figure.
“You are so fucking beautiful, princess”
“You too, baby”
The mood has clearly changed, you are still so horny and whining for each other. But Eddie has decided to take his time to make you feel like the princess you are.
Your hands help him take his clothes off, you admire his bare chest and your eyes focus on his tattoos. When he takes his pants and boxers off it is inevitable for you to take a look.
Your mouth waters at the sight. Eddie caresses your cheek and leaves small kisses on your lips as he goes inside you. You feel his hot cock 
inside you, it twitches as you stretch and leave out a louder moan.
A grin shows up on Eddie’s face as he thrusts into you. Your nails scratch his back slightly. He feels his skin burn.
“Feeling good?”
“Yes, god yes”
He groans at the same time he increases the speed. Your moans get louder and he kisses your neck again, his bare chest meets yours and you whimper. He is moving on top of you, his cock inside you, and his chest rubs your nipples.
The tiny knot in your stomach untangles as chills go down your spine. You moan as your orgasm comes to you.
“You are such a good girl, go on cum for me”
His words are sweet, he keeps praising you as you finally come. 
“So so good baby, I’m going to-”
He moves back but your hands are quick to tangle around his neck, not letting him leave.
“Do it, baby. Cum all over me”
Your encouraging words get into Eddie’s head, his thrust becomes sloppier as he relaxes and he comes into you as requested.
The hot sticky combination of cum slides down your legs as Eddie hugs you and pulls you to him to the side. His back is now pressed against the dirty sheets, your head falls in his chest.
He kisses your forehead and runs his hand through your back. 
The sun starts to show up. 
Eddie leans forward to open the back doors of his van, he comes back to his place next to you as quickly as possible and hugs you harder.
The lake glows with a yellow tint, the water now shows a baby blue color. 
“I love you, sweetheart”
Surprised you turn your head to look at him, you give him a big smile.
“I love you too”
You stay there a couple of minutes, touching each other and loving each other.
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there it is! my little baby. feedback is appreciated REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! and DON’T throw a punch like it has been described!!!
tagging everyone who interacted, tysm 💕
@ali-r3n @witchwolflea @ghostlyfleur @littlegingerbat @live-love-be-unique @expiredcum21 @emma77645 @silent-stories @hellfirenacht @eddiemunson95 @tenthmoon
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kaleldobrev · 8 months
Text
Please Don't Leave
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dean's lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn't know what he would ever do without you
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Cursing (3x), Fluff, Vulnerable/Angry Dean
Authors Note: The gif makes me sad | This might seem a little non canon but at the same time I honestly feel like Dean would react this way (fight me if you want, but I said what I said) | I just love this man so fucking much | Dream/Flashbacks are in italics | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Dean didn’t have a lot of consistencies in his life, but you were one of them. Out of everyone he had known in his life, you were one of the only people that had remained with him through all the heartbreak, all of the death, all of the blood, sweat, and tears that this life had. You had been through it all with him: Sam going to Stanford and leaving him behind, his fathers death, him selling his soul, the year that Sam went to Hell, the year the two of you were in Purgatory, the few months he was a demon, his bloodlust fueled by the Mark, him being possessed by Michael. He had an endless list of things that the two of you had been through together, things that would cause any normal or rational person to throw in the towel; but not you. “You can’t get rid of me Dean Winchester, not even if you kill me yourself.” You had joked. And that was something that he had almost done – and on several occasions too. And yet, you never left him. “I guess I’m just stupid.” You said. “Or maybe the sex me and you have is just that good.”
The sex he had with you, now that was something. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; and he has had quite a lot of sex during his lifetime (not that he bragged about it of course). When the two of you initially met, it was only supposed to be a working relationship, a friends with benefits sort of deal. But eventually it turned into more. He wasn’t sure where him or you had gotten your wires crossed but they did; and it turned into you and him always finding each other at the end of the night regardless of the different men and women that had hit on both of you at the bar you two were at.
The sex used to be quick, usually done in either a drunken haze or after a tough hunt. But it eventually turned into something that either one of you would initiate through soft touches: a kiss on the forehead, a simple hand hold, or cuddling into each other. Once, in the middle of sex, he wasn’t sure why he had said it but he did. He kind of just blurted it out. “I love you.” Now that was something he never thought he’d ever say during sex before. But here you were beneath him, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that you frequently had during sex and said, “I love you too.” It was something he didn’t expect.
Dean didn’t know what he could or would possibly do if you weren’t in his life; and that was something he didn’t want to think about. But it was something that has been an unavoidable thought as of late. Waking up to you was one of the worst but best things after a nightmare of losing you. He would wake up in a panic, his heart racing, sweating; afraid that you were gone for good this time. But without fail, every single time you would be right there next to him. Either sound asleep or awake enough to tell him, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” He would always reply the same way. “Just…please don’t leave.” It was a simple yet complicated sentence. “I’m not going to. I’d never leave you.” Those words that you always uttered back should have been comforting to him, but it was just an empty promise – even though he knows that’s how you never intended it to sound. In your heart you loved him deeply, and he knew that. He knew that you’d never leave him; the two of you have been through everything together. But when it came to this life, it was hard to make and keep promises like that.
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“Dean, I just can’t do this anymore I’m sorry.” Your words had cut into him like a knife. Like he’d been shot hundreds of times. The torture he received from Hell combined with the loss of his mother was child’s play compared to what he was currently feeling. He just started blankly at the two duffel bags at your feet as you stood in the doorway of the room the two of you shared. Well, formally shared that is. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” You asked, your question snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.
“There’s nothing to say.” Of course there were hundreds, no thousands of things that he had wanted to say to you, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of it. As much as he wanted to beg for you to stay, he wasn’t going to make you stay. Once you made up your mind that was it; there was no convincing you.
You looked at him with a confused expression. “You don’t even want to know why I’m leaving?” You asked, and Dean simply shook his head. “Why not?”
“It doesn’t really matter.” He tried to keep his voice even, to make you believe that he was okay. But he could tell that you knew he wasn’t (you knew him long enough to know when he was or wasn’t okay).
“Dean.” You said, your voice sounding more heartbroken than his.
“It’s alright. You don’t…you don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, taking a seat on the bed you two once shared.
“I feel like you deserve an explanation. We were together for almost twenty years Dean.” You sat down next to him on the bed. He had just wanted to push you away or wrap you in his arms. Two completely differently reactions, but that’s the way he felt. “Dean.” You touched his shoulder and he flinched, you quickly removed your hand. “I love you, and I know you know that but –”
“Please just…stop talking. I really don’t want to hear what you have to say.” His voice was more hurt now, and he could feel himself trying not to say or do anything that he was going to regret. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want you to have to see that, despite seeing him do it so many times before. “Just, leave if you’re going to leave.” You didn’t move, simply just staring at him. “Go!” He snapped, and that’s when you got up.
You walked over to your bags, slinging one over your shoulder and holding the other one in your hands. “Goodbye Dean.” You said, before walking out of the room. For a while he heard the sound of your boots down the hall, but they suddenly became faint, almost inaudible. The Bunker door opened and closed again. You were gone. Gone for good this time.
“You said you’d never fucking leave.” He whispered to himself. “Said you’d never fucking leave me.” He pounded the bed with his fist. “You fucking lied!” He got up from the bed and he felt himself start to lose control; no longer in control of the emotions that had been building up when he had started watching you pack up your bags.
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Dean woke up abruptly, sitting up. He was panicked, his heart racing. His breaths were heavy, his chest moving up and down. He rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself up. There was no way he would be getting back to sleep for a while; not after that nightmare. “Y/N -” he began to say as he looked over to his right side; your side of the bed. You were gone. “Sweetheart?” He asked, his hand reached out and touched the emptiness next to him: it was cold.
He looked up at the door to the bedroom which was slightly ajar. The only light in the room came seeping in from the hallway. He didn’t remember having the door open, the door was always shut whenever the two of you slept. Despite how safe the Bunker was, sleeping with the door closed added an extra layer of safety, not just for him, but for you as well.
A shadow appeared, blocking some of the light. He reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, slightly gripping his gun that he always kept there. Before he could fully wrap his hand around the weapon you squeaked inside the room and shut the door again quietly. A huge amount of relief washed over him in that moment as he let go of the gun and closed the drawer. “Dean?” You questioned, upon hearing the drawer close. “Baby are you okay?” You asked, walking to sit on his side of the bed. He looked at you as you placed a hand on his cheek. Your eyes full of worry.
“You were…” his eyes flickered to your side of the bed that had been empty when he woke up before looking back at you again. “You were gone. When I woke up you…”
“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured him, your voice calm.
“Where did you go?” He asked tiredly.
“The bathroom. I really, really needed to pee.” You said, Dean chuckled a little at your comment. “You know I wouldn’t willingly leave you right?” You reassured him again. You felt him nod in your hand.
“I know.” His voice sounding just a hint sad. “I uh, I feel stupid for freaking out.” The sentence was a whisper.
“There’s nothing to feel stupid about Dean.” Another reassurance. Dean had every right to react the way he did; he had lost so much, even before you had met him. You had been with him through everything. Witnessed so much loss and endured just as much. “Was it a nightmare?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It was the…the one where you break up with me.” You hated that one just as much as he did.
“I’m never going to break up with you. I love you too damn much.” You said, giving him a smile. You crawled into bed next to him getting underneath the covers. “Come here.” You held out your arms for him, and without hesitation he went into them. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your chest; your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your fingers started playing with his hair, gently massaging his head.
The two of you sat there in silence, both of you with your eyes closed. You weren’t sleeping, but you were unsure if he was. Even if he wasn’t, his breathing was starting to get more even, he was starting to calm down. Hearing the sound of your heartbeat always calmed him down. “Y/N?” Dean asked.
“Yes my love?” You asked, opening your eyes.
He looked up at you briefly, tiredly. “I know I don’t tell you enough but…I’m really lucky to have you in my life. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” He kissed your neck, as that was one of the only spots he could currently reach.
“I’m lucky to have you in my life too.” You responded, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.
“And Sweetheart?” He asked again.
“Yeah?” You asked.
“Thank you…thank you for not leaving me.” His voice sounding a little pained. The sound of this sentence had broken your heart a bit. Leaving Dean was never an option for you, no matter what had happened between the two of you. Being with him wasn’t easy, but you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He was your person, the love of your life, your soulmate. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You kissed him on the top of the head again, and you could feel his smile.
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That night, Dean didn’t have another nightmare, but he did dream. He had one of his favorite dreams; one that always gave him a sense of calmness and normalcy. The two of you would be just lying in bed together watching some random horror movie on tv. It was something that the two of you have done hundreds, no, thousands of times, so there would be no reason why it would be his so called favorite dream. What made it his favorite though was purely based on one small detail, a detail that made it known to him that it was in fact a dream: wedding rings would be on both of your fingers.
Someday maybe, he thought.
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Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be on a tag list, just message me!
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mooshywrites · 2 months
Text
What makes them blush
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Masterlist
Art Commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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Astarion ~
~ Whispering in his ear ~
~ Astarion always falls to pieces when you whisper in his ear
~ It doesn’t matter whether what you’re saying is innocent or not
~ A little shiver runs down his back a blush rises in his porcelain skin
~ He pretends to listen to what you’re saying, but in reality, he’s only paying attention to the way your lips ever so gently brush across his pointed ear
~ Before too long, his mind is clouded over and he’s completely lost on the conversation
~ With an embarrassed smile and perfectly pink cheeks, he never fails to ask
~ “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t seem to catch that. Whisper it to me again?”
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Halsin ~
~ Promises to come ~
~ In the beginning, it was hard to figure out what made Halsin come undone
~ It seemed that all of your regular tricks failed to rile up the Druid, and you were almost ready to give up
~ That was, until, jokingly you told him that you’d make him a Father if he didn’t stop snoring so loudly during the night
~ You were quite surprised to see Halsins cheeks go bright red and his eyes widen
~ He couldn’t even speak and the two of you sat in complete silence, waiting for each other to make a move
~ You could’ve help but smile slyly, knowing you had finally found a weak point
~ “Do not make promises you don’t intend to keep if you don’t intend to get my hopes up, my heart”
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Gale ~
~ Denial ~
~ Gale was a hard one to tease
~ It didn’t matter what you did, it seemed impossible to make him embarrassed
~ You could kiss him like the world was ending in front of a crowd of people, and instead of being caught off guard, he’d just eat up the attention
~ Finally, after getting annoyed that you couldn’t make the wizard blush, you ignored him completely
~ It didn’t start out on purpose, you just needed some time to cool off
~ But after a while, you realized Gale was getting more and more desperate for your affection
~ He started out with little quips, a whine or two when you dodged his kisses
~ By the end of the evening, he was a blushing mess, practically at your feet hoping you’d give him a scrap of attention
~ “Please don’t make me beg, love”
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Wyll ~
~ Public affection ~
~ Wyll loved showing off his love for the world, but mostly in small ways
~ A gentle handhold, a chaste kiss on the cheek, a soft grip on your waist when walking around Baldur’s Gate
~ You didn’t think much of it, it wasn’t like he was outright ignoring you in public
~ It wasn’t until you had suddenly pulled him close into a deep kiss that you realized why the Duke hadn’t done something like that before
~ When you pulled away, Wyll’s cheeks were flushed and his breath uneven
~ He looked around, making sure no one had seen how dramatic his reaction was before he gave a chuckle
~ “Oh, you’re in for a world of hurt for that one once we’re home”
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whoreteen · 1 year
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𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ - yoon jeonghan !
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◟* ♡ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.
◟* ♡ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : thigh riding, begging, oral (f receiving), breastplay, orgasm denial, dirty talk, manhandling, voyeurism, use of pet names, slight use of the words ‘slut’ and ‘daddy’, dom!jeonghan, innocence kink.
◟* ♡ 𝐀𝐔’𝐒 : established relationship, idol!au (ft Joshua)
◟* ♡ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 4,3K.
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“Jeonghan,” you whined, a frown curving down to the corners of your lips as you stood in the doorway, subtly trying to push your boyfriend to hang up the phone.
Scratch that, you desperately needed him to give you what you wanted, to fuck you so hard until you couldn’t tell your right from your left, to be so close to you; but yet he wasn’t as close as you wanted. He never was and, to be fair, it wasn’t his fault at all. Between his schedule and your time at work, you never had time to hang out, let alone have sex, hence why you’d be damned if you didn’t spend at least some of today making up for lost time.
“Yeah?” he hummed.
You licked your lips, moving a step closer to him before purring seductively, “Can you please hang up? I need you.”
You hoped your statement would make your boyfriend hang up instantly but to your disappointment, he just shot you a smile, before laughing at something the person on the other end said.
So that didn’t get him…
Jeonghan: 1 - Y/N: 0
You groaned louder than intended, feeling yourself getting more turned on as the seconds went by. You watched the smile on his face widen as he continued to talk animatedly, joking about something that had happened at the end of yesterday’s performance. Your eyes darted down to glance at your boyfriend’s bare chest as you tried to stop yourself from drooling.
You were already soaking through your panties and he hasn’t even touched you yet and seeing him sitting there wearing a pair of well-fitting, perfectly worn jeans and no shirt did nothing to calm your libido.
Shaking off your thoughts, you tried your best to quickly compose yourself as you offered him a smile.
“Baby, come on,” you whine, struggling to get his attention for even a minute. “Wouldn’t you rather have sex?”
“You’re so needy,” he said through a smile. “Let me finish this conversation, and then I promise you’ll have my undivided attention.”
You rolled your eyes before looking at him with curious eyes. “Who’re you on the phone to anyway?” you asked.
“Joshua,” your boyfriend half-smiles before turning to put his phone on loud speaker. You offered him a nod before softly saying, “Hi, Shua.”
“Hey Y/N, I missed you,” he replied back, his response coming out in a low whisper.
You indulged in small talk before giving Jeonghan your best puppy eyes and pouty lips, hoping it would be enough to convince him to hang up. He took Joshua off loud speaker before mouthing, “Five more minutes, okay?”
You groaned before deciding to get up and go to the closet in the foyer, and it didn’t take long to find the shopping bag containing the new lingerie set you had bought a few days earlier. You had intended for it to be a birthday surprise for Jeonghan, but this seemed like an equally good time to use it.
Stripping off your clothes, you replaced it with the brand new lace and pink satin bralette and matching thong. Your tits were practically spilling out, and if that didn’t get his attention, then nothing would.
He had left one of his black dress shirts hanging in the closet, so you pulled it on over your lingerie, buttoning it enough of the way up to cover your panties, but keeping the top half open.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled, knowing that your boyfriend would go crazy upon seeing you like this. You knew him oh to well.
You walked back into the bedroom, where he was happily complementing Joshua’s improvement and hard work over the years. When he saw you standing there in the door frame in nothing but his shirt and very revealing lingerie, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened.
You could hear Joshua’s voice through the phone, but Jeonghan was too busy staring at your exposed chest to pay attention to that. It suddenly hit him how long it had been since he had last seen you naked, and his cock responded immediately to the sight in front of him, exactly how you expected him to react.
Y/N: 1 - Jeonghan: 1
“Hello? Are you there? Jeonghan?!?”
Only when Joshua practically yelled his name, he broke out of his trance.
“What-uhm…sorry, I-uh, I missed what you said,” he stuttered, his voice slightly hoarse and you couldn’t help but have a manic smile on plastered on your face, your eyes glazing over from some lust quirk.
After a brief pause to listen to Joshua’s (predictably inappropriate) comment, he responded again, this time with his voice under control, “Yeah, Y/N took off work today, and apparently she’s horny.”
You rolled your eyes, as his best friend no doubt cackled away on the other side.
Jeonghan snickered at his reply. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her later,” he said, his brown eyes locked with yours. “She already knows nobody can fuck her like I can.”
You groaned, letting your head fall back as you let out a frustrated sigh.
Well, if he didn’t want to be involved, then you’d at least get yourself off.
Usually you would feel rude interrupting his phone call, but the last time you spoke to your parents, Jeonghan’s fingers had suddenly become very busy. After trying to cover your moans with coughing, your mum had called you every other day for a week to make sure you were drinking enough fluids and weren’t coming down with a cold, so this seemed like fitting revenge for having to go through that ordeal.
You took your time removing his shirt from your body, undoing the buttons slowly as you watched his eyes darken with every extra inch of skin that became visible.
Jeonghan couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight.
You dropped the shirt to the floor, doing a small twirl so that he could see your entire body.
“She’s pretty needy today,” he told Joshua as you walked up to him, climbing onto the bed so you were kneeling between his spread legs. You could tell he was intent on making him jealous, especially since he knew he had a crush on you. You, on the other hand, had no idea. “…but then again, that isn’t exactly unusual.”
Leaning forward so that your hands rested on the headboard on either side of his head, you bent your elbows so that you could brush your mouth over his, only briefly, before straddling his firm thigh.
“Hi, baby,” you purred, leaning in so close that your lips were almost touching. His breath hitched a little as he tried not to lose his mind, because you were so close.
He couldn’t help but look at you intensely. God, you were just the hottest person he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Hey,” he raised an eyebrow, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes fell to your lace-clad breasts, now perfectly at eye-level for him to shamelessly ogle. He could see your nipples through the very thin material and you could feel him twitch in his jeans.
More than anything, he wanted to disconnect the phone and take you right then and there, but he also couldn’t help being curious about how far he could go with this.
“She’s straddling my thigh right now,” he said into the speaker, his lips curving into a smirk. He almost immediately grabbed your hips before massaging the skin there, his brown eyes gazing at your exposed thighs. “My baby girl’s usually not this slutty, I don’t know what has gotten into her.”
You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you bit your lip, not sure how to react to the new side of your boyfriend that you saw in front of you.
You couldn’t help but wonder what Joshua was thinking or saying, you heard a babble of noise from the phone, but couldn’t decipher any of it. The twinkle in Jeonghan’s eyes and the smirk on his face spoke volumes, though. Despite a part of you feeling embarrassed that his best friend knew what you were up to, there was no way that you were going to let your boyfriend win this battle of wills.
Ain’t no way in hell. Mama didn’t raise no bitch, you had to finish what you’ve started.
Setting a slow, rhythmic pace, you slid your hips forward before drawing back.
“Fuck,” you moaned when you pressed yourself down on his thigh and he bucked his hips up against your heat. You made small flicking movements to rub your clothed pussy against him. The pressure only increased your arousal and there was no way you were going to last long.
“Hannie, can you please hang up?” you pleaded, rolling your hips in a circle. You could feel the rush of wetness in your panties, and your skin felt flushed as you sped up your pace slightly.
His eyes travelled to where your cunt was rubbing against him, entranced by the sight of you using his body to pleasure yourself.
“You should see her like this, bro. Panting, begging, her tits bouncing with every move, and her panties fucking soaked. My jeans are going to be damp in a minute.”
A squeak of shock escaped your mouth, and you glanced towards the phone, trying to overhear what Joshua was saying. Your hips kept moving, though, as you grinded your clit against his thigh. You knew he was right, the light wash of his jeans was going to darken with your arousal if they hadn’t already.
“Hannie, please…” you whispered, craving his touch to bring you closer to the edge.
“What do you want, angel?” he quipped and you were ready to snort at him but you refrained, instead taking his free hand in yours and guiding it to your breast.
“Want me to touch you? Is that it?”
You hummed in response.
He squeezed the soft flesh, and even after you moved your hand to settle on his sturdy forearm, he kept you in his grasp. The rough pad of his thumb stroked your nipple through the thin fabric, and you arched your chest into his touch.
You were sure that Joshua could hear your loud noises of pleasure through the phone, but you were past the point of caring.
Jeonghan let out a small chuckle at whatever was said on the other side of the line. He gave your breast one last squeeze before trailing his hand down your body, moving it to grab your ass.
“She’s already left a wet spot on my jeans, I can feel it on my leg. I have no idea what’s got into her today. Maybe she needs two cocks, Shua, what do you think?”
You let out a loud moan, your body subconsciously reacting to his words.
You began riding his thigh harder, feeling your muscles tighten as you rubbed your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans. He adjusted his leg a little to increase the friction, as his hand tightened its grip on your body.
“I think she likes the sound of that,” he sighed into the phone. “I didn’t realize what a dirty girl she was.” He raised his eyebrows at you, a little impressed with the side of you that had come out today.
His hand released your ass for a second before coming back with a quick slap, causing your body to jolt forward as you emitted a small gasp.
“Oh yeah, she likes it rough,” he told him, massaging your ass as he licked his lips, his cock twitching thinking about the red mark he knew was decorating your skin.
Your met his eyes, and silently begged him to hang up the phone and finally give in to you, but he knew that the tide was turning in his favor.
He reached for the pink thong covering your heat before speaking, “Hmm, I think Shua is enjoying finding out just how slutty you can be, don’t you think that it’d be rude to hang up on him now?”
Balancing the phone against his shoulder to free up his second hand, he ripped the flimsy fabric of your panties and tugged them off your body.
Any other day, you would have berated him for destroying yet another pair of perfectly good underwear, but the friction of the rough denim against your bare pussy was the only thing on your mind.
His hand firmly grasped your hip and paused your movements for a second, which allowed him to run a finger across your exposed slit. Bringing it up to his mouth, he swirled his tongue around it, making sure Joshua would be able to hear exactly what he was doing.
“Do I taste good, daddy?” you quipped innocently, voice sickly sweet.
It was as if something snapped in him the second the word left your mouth, you could tell from how tight he was gripping your waist that it was taking all of his will power to not ram right into you and rail you until you couldn’t walk the next day.
“Like heaven,” he groaned. “She tastes so fucking delicious,” he informed his group member.
This time, you could literally hear Joshua’s loud groan through the line, and you knew he was jerking off. The thought made your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper.
You let your body grind down hard on your boyfriend’s muscular thigh, one hand wrapped around his bicep, and the other with a death grip on the headboard. “She’s close, Joshua, I can see it all over her face.” He then turned his focus back to you. “Do you want to come for us, baby?”
You vigorously nodded, rolling your hips even faster as your pussy throbbed.
Jeonghan’s cheeks were slightly flushed and you could see the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans. The knowledge that he was as into this as you were only brought you closer to the edge.
“Shua wants to hear your response, slut,” he gently scolded.
“Yes, yes.. oh fuck, I’m so close,” you moaned out, circling your hips frantically. He landed another harsh slap to your ass, causing you to cry out.
“Can you hear her?” he asked, listening to his response. “Come for us, baby, let Joshua hear how beautiful you sound when you cum.”
With his words, you felt your orgasm rip through you, hard enough to make you see stars for a second. Your body shook with its release, and you were sure that not only Joshua, but probably the whole entire city, could hear you.
As you came down from the high, you slumped against your boyfriend’s chest, slowly catching your breath.
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he finished, before ending the call and tossing his phone onto the bedside table. He tilted your chin up until you were face to face, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.
You adjusted your position so that you were straddling both of his thighs. Your hands knotted into his fluffy hair as he pulled you in closer to his body until you were seated right on his still-covered cock.
Jeonghan let out a soft groan when you rolled your hips experimentally against him, causing his cock to twitch. He pulled away before catching your bottom lips between his teeth.
His hands moved from their place on your hips to quickly unhook your bra so that your breasts were exposed to his lustful gaze.
Moving his lips downwards, he took one nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking until you were putty in his hands. He shifted his attention to the other breast, loving the way your fingers ran through his hair, tugging gently whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
“Fuck me,” you begged, desperately craving him inside you. “Please, daddy.”
“Since you’ve asked so nicely…” he trailed off, smirking at you before easily lifting you off of his body enough to slide out from underneath so that he could climb off the bed.
Your expression immediately switched from one of concern to one of pure desire when he tugged down his jeans and boxers.
When he didn’t immediately climb back into bed, you crawled over to the edge of the bed, reaching forward to gently stroke his long, hard cock and run your thumb over the prominent vein before reaching his tip, loving the way his breathing quickened.
“Don’t,” he growled through gritted teeth. Finally taking control, he gently pushed you backwards on the bed so that you were left fully exposed to him.
He knelt on the floor between your legs and draped your knees over his shoulders. As his breath hit your sex, you bucked your hips upwards, desperately seeking contact.
One of Jeonghan’s fingers traced your core, causing a shiver to run up and down your spine as he looked at you with obvious lust. You were already wide open for him, but his fingers spread you further, baring your clit.
Hooking both of his arms around each of your thighs, he dove straight in, knowing exactly what to do to turn you into a writhing, moaning mess.
You were too lost in pleasure at this point to notice your hips mindlessly rolling up against his face.
“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled against your skin as he continued to suck and lick your cunt. God, he was so fucking close and it drove you insane… You could feel his touch, his mouth everywhere.
“And you’re so good at this,” you cry out.
His mouth was already doing so much and he was only just starting. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
You craned your neck up slightly, admiring the way his head looked between your legs, his dark hair bouncing as he nuzzled and licked, sucked and licked.
It wasn’t long until Jeonghan could feel your thighs shaking, your body beginning to tense up. You were far too lost in current bliss to even notice how fast your hips were rutting against his face, you were too busy drooling and moaning like a whore to notice how close you already were.
But your boyfriend knew you too well.
Just before you could come, he pulled away from you, causing you to let out a plaintive whine.
“No no no, what the fuck,” you sobbed, sounding like a pathetic, cock-obsessed whore but you didn’t even care at this point. “Why did you stop?”
“This is what you get for distracting me during my phone call,” he smirked, licking your juices off his lips.
Standing up, he gripped your thigh in one hand, his cock in the other, notching the head of himself at your entrance. As he gently thrust forward, just the head slipped in.
You groaned in frustration, trying to rock your hips downwards, but Jeonghan moved his hands to your hips, holding you still.
“It’s my turn now, you already had your fun, remember?” he teased, but internally he was running through every breathing exercise his vocal coaches had ever taught him, trying to get his body to calm down enough to not come at the slightest feel of your warmth enveloping his cock.
He continued to tease you with a few shallow thrusts, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to feel more of him inside you.
You began to whimper, desperately needing him to fuck you properly.
“I bet Joshua is thinking of you right now, don’t you? He’s probably getting off as we speak, to the thought of you like this, begging for a cock inside you,” he purred. With that, he thrusted forwards, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock was fully sheathed inside you.
“Hannie- ah, fuck!”
His deep groan echoed throughout your body, as he leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaning down to kiss you deeply. Your moans against his mouth gave him incentive to thrust harder, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach as your tight cunt slowly pushed him closer to the edge.
“You like that thought, don’t you?”
His face now inches from yours, he continued his dirty talk, watching your eyes close as you visualized everything he said.
“You like the idea of Joshua with his hands around his cock while he thinks about fucking you? Would you like to have him here with us right now? With his head buried between your legs until you came? What about having two cocks inside you?” he whispered, loving the way your entire body reacted to the thought of you being shared with his friend.
You tried desperately to stifle your whimpers, but he knew you too well.
“You can’t lie to me, Y/N. I can feel the way your pussy clenches around me every time you think of having Shua here,” he punctuated his words with hard thrusts, bringing both of you closer to the brink of climax.
You let out a moan that would make even a porn star blush, and wrapped your arms around his lanky torso, digging your nails into his back.
“So wet and tight for me, Y/N. He has no idea what he’s missing,” he cooed, his voice dripping with desire. “You feel so fuckin’ good, princess.” He set a punishing pace, turning you into a barely coherent mess of groans and curses.
You tried to respond with your own dirty words, something about how big his cock felt inside you, but you couldn’t.
The angle at which he had you meant that the tip of his cock was consistently rubbing your g-spot, rendering you incapable of forming full sentences. The only noise coming from your mouth was a high pitched whimper, forced from you with every thrust.
Jeonghan, however, was talking enough for the both of you, continuing to murmur about what Joshua would be doing if he was here with you, enjoying the way your body belied your true feelings about those thoughts despite your best efforts to appear unaffected.
He hit that sweet spot inside you and you let out a loud gasp, “Oh my god, that feels so good. Fuck, right there, Hannie- just like that. Please.”
You we’re rambling, not able to control the words that fell from your lips. You didnt know if any of it was coherent, and to be fair, you didn’t care at all. All you could focus on was Jeonghan and the way you’ve never felt this good before.
“Yeah?” he rasps, his throaty tone sending a shiver down your spine. “Like this, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried out as you fucked yourself on him. Jeonghan gulped at the sight and feeling. You were so damn fucking sexy and it was killing him. You were killing him.
“Fuck- I’m so full.”
He groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him before pushing deep into you and staying there. Your pussy felt so full, so stuffed that you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back when Jeonghan began moving his hips again. He slammed himself once again, causing you to jerk forward but your boyfriend quickly caught you. One thing was for certain, you definitely wouldn’t be able to walk after this.
“God, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, I- fuck,” he grunted, panting into your mouth, lips meeting in messy kiss but it was hard to kiss properly now.
“Need you to cum inside me, please, daddy. W-want you to fill me up,” you sobbed, feeling his thick cock twitch inside you. “Please.”
Jeonghan moved two fingers to your mouth and of course you eagerly accepted them. “You sound like a filthy little slut, do you know that?”
You nodded vigorously, eyes wide as your tongue swirled around his long fingers. You knew exactly what to say to turn him on and get him going.
“My filthy little slut, ain’t that right hmm? Show me how much of a desperate slut you are for me.”
You felt your brain get fuzzy as you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. You looked up at him with doe eyes, knowing you looked pathetic as you drooled all over his fingers and eventually, it just felt so good that you couldn’t make any noise outside of muffled whimpers but Jeonghan still didn’t remove his fingers. You didn’t mind though, you loved it - the feeling of being stuffed full of him on both ends was almost enough to make you cum on the spot.
He added another finger in your mouth, stretching your lips wide. Your body arched as you clenched his full length in your walls, your eyes slipping closed and loud muffled cries resonating from your throat.
Jeonghan could tell you were about to cum, the way you were fucking yourself down onto his cock, meeting each of his thrusts.
Removing his wet fingers from your mouth between your bodies before they found your clit and began to make fast circles.
“Cum,” he commanded. “There you go, that’s my good girl, go ahead and let go for me.”
As soon as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm, he increased the pressure, and you came hard, screaming his name, which you could barely hear over the sound of your own pulse pounding in your ears.
Your body felt limp as he thrust once, twice more before coming with a “fuck” and a loud groan.
He rolled off of you, and the two of you lay there for a while, trying to catch your breath.
After a few moments of silence, you burst into a fit of laughter, turning onto your side to face your boyfriend.
“There’s no fucking way I can look Joshua in the eye ever again.”
Jeonghan snorted in amusement. “You sure you don’t want to come to the concert tomorrow? Stand right in the front row with a sign that says ‘Shua, will you marry me?’”
“Better idea: why don’t I just write ‘Joshua Hong, will you fuck me?’” you joked, winking at him.
With a cheeky grin, he responded, “Best idea: why don’t we spend the rest of today and tonight naked in this bed?” he raised his eyebrows suggestively, and your eyes instinctively darted to his cock, already beginning to get hard again at the suggestion of round two. “So how does that sound?”
“Sounds like the perfect day off.”
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© hoshzone, all rights reserved.
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kairoot · 3 months
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hiii. you said you wanted to write something for hoon and idk if it’s because i’m on my period but all i can think about rn is him coming back from tour and he’s so excited because he gets to see his gf!! and she surprises him by picking him up at the airport and he’s all soft and clingy and the members tease him but he doesn’t care bcuz the lohl is right there???
. ﹙★﹚ALWAYS FOREVER. | 성훈
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PAIRING : sunghoon x f.reader ➖ GENRE : fluff, est. relationship ➖ REQUESTED : by the lovely @enha-stars ➖ WARNINGS : lowercase intended, pet names, kissing ➖ WC : 866.
SECTION SONG: always forever by cults
.˚ *꒰ঌ ✦ ໒꒱ * ˚. —
departing from each other was never easy for y/n and sunghoon, especially when he was gone for months at a time. she loved that he was passionate about his job, it just seemed as if her boyfriend was taken from her constantly.
every time he left, they promised that they’d see each other again and that they’d still remain as one, never leaving each other permanently. which was why y/n held a seat in the nearest airport, waiting for her love.
she glanced around constantly, not wanting to miss the moment sunghoon walked through those doors. her gaze switched from her surroundings to her phone, checking if sunghoon had messaged her back.
nothing.
he wasn’t aware of y/n’s plans of surprising him after months of being apart. but of course, they’d messaged each other only hours before, expressing excitement of sunghoon’s returning and checking on one another.
the airport was roaring with noise, the usual bustling and folks wandering around seemed louder than normal today.
maybe it seemed that way because of the nerves y/n felt. she’s wasn’t nervous per say, more so anxious.
the only contact between her and sunghoon for the last months had only been virtual. she’d almost forgotten what his touch felt like.
the intercom switched on, a voice booming through the speaker but y/n couldn’t decipher what they were saying. she was back to glancing around like a madwoman.
she took one last look to the right but when she looked to the left again, the doors were opening. in walked men wearing black paired with masks of the same color.
guards, she thought.
she scrambled to stand up, trying to get to the entrance as quickly as her feet would take her.
y/n shoved through people, hurriedly spitting out ‘excuse me’s’ to everyone she bumped into.
eventually she got through the herd of people, now standing in the middle of the airport, trying to catch a glimpse of those same brown layers she loved.
a few familiar faces walked in but then there was her favorite. his face was still as his eyes dropped with exhaustion. her heart ached but longed for him all at once.
his gaze remained low, looking up every once in a while. she bounced on her feet, hoping he would notice her soon.
the guards and members got closer to where y/n stood, where there was more people. this made sunghoon look up now, not wanting to bump into anyone.
he scanned the building and all the people in it.
and then his gaze landed on her.
the tiredness seemed to fade as his eyes widened in surprise and excitement.
he didn’t run, not wanting to any attention to himself. he pushed passed the guards slightly, causing them to give him confused looks.
y/n’s smile widened at his eagerness, her arms open to embrace him. she began to walk, wanting to meet him halfway.
he quickened his steps, not wanting to wait to be held by her any longer. sunghoon dropped his bags behind him, meeting her in the middle of the airport.
his arms hurriedly pulled her in, embracing her tightly. her scent nearly suffocated him as he rested his face in the crook of her neck but he didn’t care.
he sighed as y/n’s hand ran up and down his back, arms tightening around him.
they rocked side to side, smiling like two lovesick teenagers.
sunghoon pulled his head up from her neck, his hand coming to rest at the back of it instead. his gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips before he closed the gap between them.
he normally wasn’t the type of guy to do the whole pda thing but in that moment, he didn’t care. to him, he and y/n were the only ones in the world. the only ones in the airport.
their lips copied each other’s actions, moving in sync. sunghoon whined in the kiss, his eyebrows furrowing. he’d longed for this moment and now that it was finally happening, he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“you two make me more nauseous than the airplane’s food.” one of sunghoon’s members, sunoo had commented.
the lovebirds pulled away from each other, smiling. sunghoon hugged his girlfriend once more, never wanting to let her go again.
“go grab your bags, babe.” she whispered to him, giggling. he made a noise out of stubbornness but eventually went to pick his bags up off the floor.
he made his way back to y/n, quickly taking his place by her side once more.
she had him glued at the hip and he wasn’t even complaining. he’d confess that he was indeed a simp for her.
if he wasn’t carrying his bags he’d be clinging to her. but instead, he switched his bag to the other hand, his empty one being refilled by the hand of his partner.
“look at sunghoon hyung,” riki teased. “wrapped around y/n’s finger.”
“and?” sunghoon replied, raising an eyebrow at the younger boy.
y/n smiled up at him once his gaze fell back onto her. he grinned, planting a quick kiss on her nose.
“you could have me in your pocket and i wouldn’t mind.” he mumbled so she was the only one to hear.
★ ★ ★
milan’s note: i hope you liked this! i wasnt able to put a lot into it but 🥲
TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz — message or comment to be added.
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pendarling · 7 months
Text
Loving Names
Hero was perplexed when Villain stopped calling them by their terms of endearment. Things like “honey,” “love,” or “sweetheart,” had made them melt, but they’d never dare show interest to an enemy like that. They were just curious as to why, that’s all.
It was just a bit strange now that they realized after their last few battles with Villain, all the nicknames had disappeared entirely.
In the time they met Villain they always knew there was just something about them that drew them closer. It wasn’t just the way Villain affectionately talked them up or the small remarks that gave them butterflies but also the hints of deeper feelings they left for them with every banter.
It all tore at their heart, of course they can’t openly say something so embarrassing. A hero’s job was to protect the city and its citizens from villains and this one was no exception.
So Hero never reciprocated the behaviour. They couldn’t let themselves become caught up in the emotional drama Villain was leading them in.
At least they should’ve saw it coming. They should’ve known that after denying Villain from the satisfaction of ever knowing how they felt, that Villain would eventually stop pursuing. They would stop the flirting and the lingering gazes. The gentle but brief touches and the high risk close combat that gave Villain a chance to speak soft poems to them.
It was like a reset button had been pressed and Villain immediately returned to how things initially were when they first met.
For that, Hero felt great regret.
Which is why they were planning on confronting them.
***
They found Villain sitting casually at the scene of another crime. It almost seemed unusually quicker than normal. It would take at least an hour to detect Villain at any of these attacks, but it looked like the universe had something else in mind.
Determination pushed Hero toward their nemesis, the question still boiling deep inside them.
Hero walked behind them as the other idly sat on the roof, their feet dangling at its edge. “Villain,” they spoke.
They rose from their position, and turned to look at them with sly eyes. “Just in time. Shall we continue where we left off?”
Without much hesitation, Hero pulled out their weapon and readied themselves for the dance they’ve grown so familiar with.
Villain closed the gap and swung in their direction; their hand aiming for their gut. They quickly blocked the attack and backed up, a swift kick sent them back and let Hero breathe momentarily.
As the battle continued against Villain, their heart began to race out of anticipation for the promised conversation. It would be awkward at first, but as soon as they could get it out they would play it all off cool.
“What’s got your mind wandering?” Villain shoved Hero to ground as quickly as they tugged the weapon out of their grasp.
At first, they didn’t acknowledge the concern, but figured if anything, now would be the time to ask. Their eyes warily stared at Villain’s mischievous mask, though words began to fail them, “Uh…” it had to be now. They couldn’t let this stress take hold of them any longer.
The criminal stood just a few feet from them with a curious glint. They were certain they knew exactly what Hero was going to ask.
“I noticed…” Their voice was a lot shakier as they stood, “That you stopped with all the… names.” Their gaze stayed glued to the ground as their face grew hotter.
Villain hummed with an expression that lightened up instantly. “Oh, what do you mean?”
So they were going to play stupid. Was this some kind of punishment for not giving the reciprocation they were looking for?
They should’ve known and yet…
“You know…” They wiped their sweating hands onto their suit. “You always had a way with words.”
“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, Hero.”
They pouted slightly at the responses, “How do you not know? You’ve always called me… other things…” They trailed off. Just how long was Villain intending to keep them in this agonizing situation?
A laughter echoed which sent their head spiralling. Villain moved closer, their steps were quiet enough to match any predator. “I’m starting to think there’s something you want from me. I wonder what it is?~”
Hero tightened their lips. Maybe they should’ve kept their mouth shut after all. “I’m only asking a question.”
Villain circled them, still putting on their clueless face, “I can’t answer a question if you won’t make it clearer for me.” They shrugged. The enemy was no where in sight, though they could sense Villain stalking behind them.
A ghostly touch climbed up their spine. With their shoulders tense, Hero spun around to face Villain who was only inches from them. “W-what!?” They stammered.
“You always keep me waiting, Hero. Always guessing your motives.” From their expression Hero caught something change, “A never ending cycle of not knowing…”
They sighed, their heart still hammering in their chest, “Did I do something to upset you? To make you stop… with the terms of endearment?”
Lips curled slowly upwards at their questions. “Oh. So you did like them after all.” They chuckled warmly. “Did you enjoy having cute pet names?”
Hero took several steps back, “What? No!”
“Alright. Then I guess there shouldn’t be a problem then if I stop—”
“No, don’t!” It came out unexpectedly from them. It was enough to make Villain’s eyes go wide, and the air to grow thicker.
Their thoughts tugged at them again, they didn’t want Villain to just stop but they also hated to admit they loved it.
“So you don’t want me to stop? Why?” They chuckled.
Damn it. Villain knew exactly what they were doing.
Their mind fumbled to grab the words they needed to play it all naturally.
“Why? Because uhm…”
“C’mon. I know you can say it for me~”
They nervously tapped their foot to the ground, “Fine…” They said through clenched teeth, “I liked it.”
“You mean you loved it, right?”
They nodded.
Their nemesis’ laughter didn’t stop though, it only increased from there. Villain always went overboard with their teasing. “You loved what?” They leaned in closer.
Their hands tightened into a fist this time, eyes shut as their head hung low. It felt so shameful and exhausting to keep this up. “I loved it when… you call me… your love.”
“Aww… so you aren’t as heartless as it seems” Villain lifted Hero’s chin and brushed the hair from their face, “That’s all I needed to hear from you, my little dove.”
Oh, and there it was again. That satisfying tingle against their skin. That rush of dopamine and excitement.
Villain sensed their change in mood and smiled confidently, “You really take advantage of these pet names, don’t you?”
“Only from you.” Their head tilted into Villain’s palm.
~~~
MASTERLIST
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euno11a · 3 months
Text
Tattooed Hearts
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Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader
Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.
Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period
Edit: Hey guys, I got this idea for some reason and was thinking of making it into a series, so let me know if you enjoy it and want a part two :)
Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII
*** You weren’t one to put out, always waiting for the one person who made you feel special. But you never seemed to feel that, except for when you were with Jungkook. He made you special, he made you happy, he made you feel loved. Maybe giving yourself to him was your mistake, but how could you not? He looked so handsome with his piercings and tattoos. That’s where you should’ve known what you did was a mistake. Sleeping with him was never on your bucket list, sure you’d thought about it before, but you never intended for anything to actually happen. It felt good, it always did, but the pain of being pushed out always pained you after. Mistakes get made, but this one hurt too much.
Sobbing on the bathroom floor was something you’d never wanted to do when it came to a guy. But seeing him with that girl hurt, way too much. Why weren’t you used to this yet? It’s happened before, get used to it. “He doesn’t deserve your tears, Y/N, please stop crying…” Lindsay, your friend, pleaded. She’d been here when it first happened, the other hundred times it had happened, and now. Maybe you were the stupid one for never taking her advice. Now, you hated calling anything stupid, nothing was stupid. There was always reason for something being one way and not the other, but you were just stupid for how many times you’d fallen for his tricks. Tattoos make a story when on your skin, most of the time. The story behind your tattoo was that you’d fallen for a handsome tattoo artist, letting him sweep you off your feet, wine and dine you and then fuck you. Big mistake. It’s almost funny how many mistakes you’ve made with him. Going the day after to get your tattoo finished was not the happy ending you were expecting, instead finding a woman walk out of his office looking drunk off of sex. Just like you did. He apologized, wine and dined you, then fucked you again. The same thing happened. Something wasn’t clicking, stay away from him; he’s bad for you; he’s using you; all things you should’ve listened to, but didn’t. That was on you, you decided to keep going back and keep getting your heart broken. That was until now, countless nights of crying about him, going back to him, waiting for him to call and use you again, you were done.
Wiping your tears for the last time, you wouldn’t let this man or any man make you cry like that ever again. That was a promise. ***
“Are you ever gonna get that tattoo finished?” Lindsay asked as she placed the bowl of popcorn between you two. It was Wednesday night, your scheduled movie night. “I think it would look really cool actually completed.”
You placed some popcorn in your mouth, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know…I think it looks kinda cool now!” Placing the blanket over your legs, you looked at your shoulder, a half finished tattoo of a skeleton hand holding a rose.
“Girl, don’t lie, you need to get it finished. Please? I’ve been looking at it for so long, I can’t stand it anymore! How are you not annoyed it’s only half done?!” She was adamant about making you get it finished, partially because she wanted you to go back to rub it in Jungkook’s face how amazing you were and what he lost when he slummed it with those other women.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll get it finished, but you need to get me tteokbokki after, got it?” It was something you’d dreaded, but having the feeling inside that you’d let him win by not seeing him again was eating at you from the inside.
Lindsay squealed in joy, clapping her hands, “ I’m gonna make you so hot! He’s gonna regret sleeping with those other bitches!”
“Whoa, whoa, I’m going to get my tattoo finished, not see him. And don’t call them bitches! Women stick up for women, no matter how fucked up some might be.” Secretly, you were hoping to make him jealous or upset with how he left you. He deserved to feel like shit.
“Okay, okay, sorry…I’M GONNA GET MY HEELS!!” Lindsay yelled as she ran out of the living room to grab her heels from her room. I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t stop her.
***
A week later, you walked into the shop, seeing the familiar face of RM. He was one of the piercers that worked in the parlour, “Y/N, hey, it’s been a while!” He spoke with a big smile, happy to see you again. With the time you’d spent there before everything, you’d befriended his friends. It felt unfair leaving them behind after it all.
“Yeah, hi, how’ve you been?” Even though Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, you couldn’t help but feel a lump growing in your throat.
RM had a bright smile on his face, one that he’d always had that always managed to make your day better. “Good! I’ve been good, uh, how can I help you today?” He asked, standing up from behind the front desk.
“I want to get my tattoo finished. I think it’s finally time.” You gave him a small smile, he’d known about what happened between you and Jungkook. It was hard not to know, he was friends with him after all.
“Alright, we can do that! Let me see…V could take you.” He looked up from the computer, seeing what was open now. You nodded your head, willing to take anyone who wasn’t Jungkook.
They’d gotten you situated at a station, instructing you to take off your sweater. Your half finished tattoo was now on display, waiting to be finished. V was nice, making small talk here and there, making sure you were comfortable with everything and that nothing was too painful. Pain wasn’t your thing, yes, you had to go through a period every month and maybe one day give birth, but you had a low pain tolerance. He used to squeeze your thigh, kiss your neck, finger you to keep you calm…stop it! Don’t think about him! He’s not in your life anymore, don’t waste precious thinking space on him! Not thinking about the needle piercing your skin was abruptly stopped when you felt a prick, yelping, you moved your shoulder away. V looked at you with wide eyes, “ I’m sorry! Was that painful? Oh god, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
“No, no! It’s okay! I’m fine, just startled! Sorry, I zoned out for a moment…” You gave him a sheepish smile, relaxing in the chair again.
“That’s fine, just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay? Maybe I can sneak you a juice if you really want, too.” He gave you his signature boxy smile, instantly warming your heart.
You giggled, nodding your head, “That would be nice…” Smiling up at him, it felt nice to still be friendly with them even though you were nowhere close to being friendly with Jungkook.
V stood up, walking away to get you a juice from the break room. He left you in the chair, leaving you alone to listen to the music playing softly through the speakers. Quietly humming along, your thoughts were halted by hearing two voices. “Hey, RM, when’s my next client?”
“She should be here soon, it’s a touch up.” I could hear RM talk to the person. The other guy hummed, shuffling around a little.
You sat up, being faced with Jungkook. Everything seemed to go fuzzy, your thoughts, the sounds around you, even your eyesight. The lump in your throat returned, making it hard for you to breathe, V returned with your juice, “ I got you watermelon! You know? Since it’s your favourite!”
You were startled out of your trance, looking up at V who was holding your favourite juice. They still had it…? “Thanks…how do you-?”
You were cut off by V smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “We all thought you’d show up again…but when you didn’t, we kept the fridge stocked for whenever you decided to show up again.”
Heat rushed up to your cheeks, they’d waited for you? Why? His boxy smile came back again, looking over to Jungkook, waving “Hey, JK, lunch was good?”
“Yeah, it was fine. Pussy would’ve been better though.” Jungkook replied as if it were nothing, finally looking over to you. He faltered a little bit, quickly recovering by giving you a cocky smirk, “Glad to see you back, Y/N.”
Without another word, he walked away, back into his office. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. He was like a parasite, once you had it, it would never go away.
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astariontopofme · 7 months
Note
Hi! I loved your Astarion fic very much!! You really captured him very well! :D I would love to request a fic where Tav/Reader invites Astarion to watch the sunset with them and just have a sweet time together without obligation of anything more. Thank you! ❤️
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐬 🌞 (Astarion x GN!MC)
A/N: I took this prompt and ran too far with a bit of angst, I apologise. There’s still fluff I promise! Hope you enjoy!
Word count: 2.3k
___
Alone and miserable was exactly how Astarion intended to spend his evening.
He was growing a little tired of these long days ending in disappointment. They had been on the receiving end of some particularly brutal attacks that afternoon, each one adding to the ever lengthening delay on their mission to find a cure for their tadpoles.
It seemed there wasn’t an end in sight, their days repeatedly starting and finishing the same way. The worst part about it for him was his confliction when it came to the matter at hand. One minute he was determined and dead set on finding someone or something that could remove the tadpole, and the next minute he was absorbed by the actuality that the tadpole had given him the happiest moments of his prolonged life.
One of those moments being the warmth of the sun on his cold skin.
He couldn’t imagine being stripped of such luxury again, locked in the shadows until the harshly cold moon replaced the flourishing gold beams that it blessed upon the world. The very thought left him in a slight state of panic if ever he dwelled on it long enough. Everyone else was yearning for the solution to their infections, which was fair. It hadn’t brought anyone but himself any joy, just a disruption to their lives.
Which was why these thoughts were always kept to himself. He didn’t want to hear about how ‘everything would be okay’ or the irritating default ‘cheer up’ phrases. It wasn’t as simple as just seeing the bright side of ridding himself of the tadpole. Sure, it would eliminate the chances of being turned into something he didn’t want to become, but removing it would turn him back into his old self, something else he didn’t want to be.
The very thought of avoiding the daylight made him feel ill. He hadn’t expected to be so attached to it when he first realised the warmth on his skin wasn’t cooking him alive. Two hundred years of darkness was what he had no choice but to be used to. He knows how to live out his life that way, but he didn’t want to.
He just wanted to be free.
So as he could hear the rest of the camp making their attempts at cheering each other up, Astarion sat in his lonely little tent, slowly waving his hand in the strip of honey-like light that had invited itself in through the gap of the tent’s entrance. He almost wanted it to start burning him, just to prepare him for his impending intolerance to the beauty cascading a rich bronze hue across his deathly pale skin.
Judging by the deep shade of the soothing beam, the sun was beginning its daily journey to another part of the world. The nights were always a little difficult when he got in his head like this. Every glance at the stars shimmering in contrast to the ebony sky made him wonder if that had been his last day in the warmth before someone excitedly presented him with a cure he only half wanted.
Just as he felt himself starting to spiral uncontrollably, his tent was suddenly deprived of its sliver of warm light. Before he could tell whoever had come to bother him to leave him alone, a familiarly soft yet strong hand clasped itself around his, tugging him out of his solitary as his knees crashed into the hard ground. He was ready to start shouting at whoever had the sheer audacity to pull him around like that, but as he looked up from his knees he was met with a contagiously joyous smile.
Whatever Tav was so happy about must not have reached the others, most of them sitting around the start of a fire and barely looking any happier than he felt. The misplaced display of glee was almost irritating him, but the irritation was fizzling out quickly, as it always seemed to do with his partner.
Gods he was getting soft.
Doing his best to be stern after being so unexpectedly manhandled, he put on his best frown. “What on earth was that for?!”
Still, the look of delight before him did not falter. If anything they looked even more pleased that he was in a bad mood.
The same hand that had kidnapped him from the confines of his tent reached out to help him up. Being the ever so petty man that he could proudly be, Astarion completely ignored it and dragged himself up to his feet, being sure to scoff as he brushed the dirt from his knees.
“Come on,” his over excited companion commanded.
Astarion raised an eyebrow at them. “Come on, what?”
Before his tongue had even hit the roof of his mouth to exaggerate the T at the end of what, he watched his partner turn around quickly, darting off into the woods surrounding the camp.
Although their actions hadn’t exerted any will within him to now go and spend time with them, he wasn’t prepared to let them scurry off into the woods alone before it got dark. He quickly grabbed a small dagger from a stool outside his tent and hastily set forth to catch up to them. Sure, he was a little pissed, but he was too protective of them to retreat back into his tent and stew in his misery.
It didn’t take him long to catch up, despite how quickly his partner was speed walking through the trees. Wherever they were going, they were clearly in some kind of hurry.
“Will you slow down,” Astarion hissed. “Where in the hells are you going?!”
Tav simply continued without a word, stopping very suddenly at the edge of the forest. There was quite a drop only a few feet in front of them, and Astarion found himself automatically reaching out to grab the back of his partner's top, despite the fact that they had already come to a halt.
“I knew this would be the perfect place,” Tav exclaimed with an accomplished grin.
Astarion couldn’t help but hope that this wasn’t what he thought it was. He wasn’t entirely in the mood to try and be interested in sex right at this very moment in time, nor was it the most comfortable looking place for it.
“Look, I enjoy your body a great deal, but I’m not really-”
Tav’s gaze shot straight up to him, the smile dropping from their face. “I…I didn’t bring you here for sex, Astarion,” they explained innocently. “You know that’s not all I want from you…don’t you?”
Astarion didn’t know how to answer this. He had spent so much of his life being used to lure people to their doom with sex that he still couldn’t decipher between being appreciated and being used. It was a difficult area in their new relationship that they both knew would take time and plenty of reassurance. He trusted his partner a great deal, more than he had ever been able to trust a person before in his life.
After a few awkwardly silent minutes went by, Tav cut the tension by pointing out towards a body of water in the distance. “I wanted you to watch with me,” they murmured quietly, crossing one leg over the other to sit on the hard ground.
Astarion watched as the deeply orange sun was slowly approaching the water, reflecting itself on the surface like fire dancing over ice. It was a rather breathtaking sight, one that forced his legs to follow the same crossing motion to sit beside his partner and bask in such a beautiful sight.
Despite the earlier downward spiral into his fear of sun deprivation, he had never felt so soothed and relaxed by such simplicity. He hadn’t yet watched a sunset, which was usually down to missing it whilst journeying back to camp. The brightest star in the sky was sinking away, emanating a golden sheet across everything that surrounded them. It was almost hypnotic just how fascinating the sight truly was.
Any resentment he had for being dragged out of his tent against his will had dissolved almost instantly. This relationship thing was still all very new to him, and his biggest obstacle was understanding, which was difficult as there were so many things he just didn’t understand. The main one being Tav’s interest in him.
Even he couldn’t deny that he could be a bit of a negative bastard at the best of times, and yet this ridiculously patient person he found himself to be enamoured with wanted to share such a beautiful and intimate moment with him without the obligation of intercourse. They really did care about him.
But for how long?
If they were to eventually find a cure, Astarion was almost certain that he’d lose something far more valuable to him than the sun. Why would such a bright soul want to spend the rest of their life with him in the shadows?
He tore his gaze away from the descending sun to glance at his partner, only to find them already looking at him.
“Isn’t it lovely,” they whispered quietly, as if raising their voice would scare the beauty away.
Astarion swallowed a hard lump in his throat, not knowing how to answer that question. It was lovely, but he wasn’t just thinking that of the sunset.
Before he could catch his tongue, he blurted out a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “Are you going to leave?”
Once again, Tav’s content smile faded into a small and confused frown. “Leave? Leave what?”
He could hear his conscience shouting at him to just shut up and quit being so pathetic, but his mouth seemed to overrule it. He needed some sense of security.
“Me.”
The hurt look on the face that had recently become his favourite caused his cold heart to squeeze in his chest. He didn’t want to come across so accusingly, but he wasn’t exactly accustomed to loyalty. Nobody had cared for him the way they did, yet as much as he was afraid that they would eventually grow tired of him, he wouldn’t ever be surprised if they did as he just didn’t expect much from people.
Judging by the sudden sadness in those fascinating eyes, Tav hadn’t actually thought about it in the way he had. “You think I’m going to leave you when you can no longer walk in the sun,” they questioned, though it came out as more of a statement.
Astarion didn’t verbally respond, but the way his body tensed up at the thought was enough of an answer for his partner. Tav shuffled over a little, sitting closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his leg. Their piercing stare bored into him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes with his.
Still, Tav spoke so softly that it almost made Astarion uncomfortable. “If I had plans to leave you after these tadpoles are gone, then I wouldn’t have bothered with you in the first place. I know what you are, Astarion. I know what comes with being a vampire. That’s not going to change how I feel about you.”
He couldn’t suppress the frustrated sigh that escaped him. “That’s easy for you to say now,” he said, surprisingly calm. “But when you’re confined to the darkness-”
“I’ll still love you.”
It was the first use of the word between the couple. A word Astarion didn’t have a lot of experience with, which was why he couldn’t decipher between whether the feeling in his chest when he heard the intimidating word was a reciprocating feeling of love or whether he was dying on the spot. His eyes snapped back to his partner, but they were now staring off towards the water again, watching as the sun disappeared into the horizon and took its warmth with it.
Yet he still felt warmth. It was growing almost painfully in his chest as his heart thumped at an alarming rate. Any time he had heard someone explain what love felt like, the word warmth had almost always come up.
“The sun’s gone,” Tav whispered quietly, taking his hand. “And I don’t feel any differently. I mean it, Astarion. I love you.”
Astarion’s whole mouth felt like cotton. He did love them, he could physically feel it within him. But he was afraid that the words could not form yet. Sure, he’d falsely told people he loved them for manipulation purposes, but real love was a huge step for him, and he felt he needed to truly understand its meaning before he could declare such a thing back.
“You don’t need to say anything,” his partner reassured him softly, picking up on his dilemma.
He swallowed hard. “It’s not that I don’t-”
“I know.”
Their eyes finally met, something different presenting itself between them. It felt as though their relationship had taken on a new meaning, one that slightly soothed that voice in his head telling him he was going to end up alone when their mission was over. He just couldn’t believe he had found such a remarkable soul in such a strange and life threatening situation.
Though he couldn’t use the word love just yet, he couldn’t let this moment end with his silence. He knew that he could feel it, and he needed them to know that.
“I’ve always heard the phrase that home is where the heart is…and I never really understood it before now,” he began to conclude. “Nothing ever felt like home to me. Not Baldur’s Gate, and certainly not Cazador’s palace.”
He reached his free hand up to cup Tav’s cheek, his thumb absentmindedly brushing across their slightly blushed skin as they melted into his touch.
“But you…I have a home in you.”
.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic! This is my first time writing with a gender neutral character so please be kind if I’ve made any mistakes!
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judyx526 · 11 months
Text
Genya Shinazugawa NSFW Alphabet
Note: I normally don’t post on Tumblr at all. But I noticed a lack of Genya fan fiction and it seems a lot of people feel this way, so I made a simple one. Genya is 4+ years older for this, so he’s around 20-21. This is 18+ kids... I know where to find you. 
A=Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)
The king of aftercare. He makes sure you’re taken care of and comfortable. Always grabs a damp towel and water after doing the deed. Need more pillows and blankets? You name it and he’ll grab it. Want to soak in the bath? Man’s booking it with you in his arms to the bathroom. Considering his father was an abusive jackass to his own mother and did more harm than good, so he’ll do anything to take care of you.
 ---
“Are.. Ahem are you alright?” Genya croaked
After catching your breath, your hands soothed their way into his thick hair. A smile graced your lips as you nodded, “Yeah… I am a little thirsty though.”
He stared at you for a moment then set his forehead on yours and responded with “Alright..”
Within minutes, Genya was running a warm, damp towel along your thighs and stomach while you drank some water. Once you were finished, you gently stopped him from overcleaning and pulled him into an embrace, a small blush evident on his cheeks as you pressed his face against your chest. The man was asleep in seconds as you massaged his scalp, and pressed kisses to his head.
B=Body Part(their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
On himself, he likes his arms. Despite not having the best confidence in himself, he knows he can depend on his strength, whether it be to protect or please you.
On you, he loves your neck and thighs. Though he’ll never admit it out loud, he loves leaving marks on both spots. Especially on your thighs. There’s just something about biting and sucking on such sensitive areas that drives him crazy and makes him want to leave more than intended.
---
Your legs were starting to cramp from how long he’d been holding them on top of his shoulders. Even so, it was undeniable that Genya was enjoying himself and taking his time leaving hickies on your plump thighs. Despite the awkward position, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him because of how good his teeth felt on your skin. With a small tug on his hair, his dark eyes met yours with a hint of concern. A hum escaped your throat as you nudged his face closer to your entrance with a blush. Red enveloped his cheeks before pulling your hips closer to his face. This man was truly gonna be the death of you.
C=Cum
Most of the time, on your stomach or back. There’s something about making a mess of you that makes him go feral. Half the time, it’s what gets him going for another round.
However, every once in a while, he’ll release inside you and watch in awe as his cum seeps out. You always giggle a bit at his fascination with the staring, but you love it either way. You love seeing him go crazy from it, even if you end up walking funny later.
---
“Enjoying the view, love?”
Genya jolted a bit at the comment before muttering an apology.
“Don’t say sorry. I like it too.”
“Ah.. good to know.”
D=Dirty Secret
There’s not much Genya will keep from you, after all he promised to always be honest. However, he has had thoughts of you taking control over him more than usual. I.E. tying down his hands and feet while you have your way with him. Watching you ride him time and time again always gets his heart racing and his imagination running wild.
One other secret is the fact he likes it up the ass. How he found out was by pure accident. He was on top of you when your hand traveled down his back to grab his ass cheek and a couple of your fingers dipped into his hole. He didn’t even think you realized what you were doing considering how tight your grip was on his plump ass. Afterward when he happened to be on a solo mission, he reached down and tried it for himself. Let’s just say his face was beet red after. Overtime, he’s been working up the courage to ask you about it, but he gets too flustered by the time you’re in front of him. One day he’ll tell you. Hopefully.
E=Experience(how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
This is Genya we’re talking about, the man blushes whenever he interacts with girls period. He was surprised with being able to pull you for himself. Once you had reached that critical point in your relationship where you two were getting a little too touchy, he was embarrassed to admit he’d never had sex before. But you didn’t blame him. Being in the Demon Slayer Corps didn’t grant either of you time to have that pleasure, even if it was for yourselves. However, the first time you two had sex was truly a once in a lifetime experience.
---
“Um, Genya?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Can.. Can you kiss me for a minute? Please?”
His only response was to stare then place his lips on yours and rest his hips on yours. A moan hummed in your throat as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips. You felt one of his calloused palms cradle your face as the kiss became more passionate. Even knowing how strong he was, it made your heart swell with how gentle he was with you.
A few minutes later, you whispered his name and pulled away, cradling his face.
“Be gentle, okay?”
He simply nodded with a small smile then pecked your lips once more.
F=Favorite Position
You might as well be asking him to choose between you and his favorite meal. He can never truly pick a favorite position; however, he does have a top three:
1) Cowgirl
2) Missionary
3) Upstanding Citizen[basically fucking you against the wall]
He does have a weak spot for doggystyle, especially when he’s got a lot of energy and his confidence is higher than usual. He feels bad when you can’t feel your legs after, but you have no qualms or objection when he’s rougher. It’s a big turn on actually.
---
This was the third round, and you two were just getting started. You had been separated for almost a month due to a really important mission he was assigned. Shinobu had just released him from the hospital as most of his injuries were healed. Your grip on his hair was almost terrifying as he held your thighs open and thrusted into you, pressing you back against the wooden wall. His face was buried into your neck with your head arched back.
“O-Oh! God, Genya… Right there!”
“Fuck…! I missed you so much, baby..”
His teeth attached themselves to your throat, causing a loud moan to echo through the room.
You had a lot of catching up to do.
G=Goofy(are they serious all the time or will they make you laugh?)
Genya has always been a serious man, just like his brother. That includes when you’re having sex.
But every once in a while, he’ll end up making you giggle while trying to be all stoic. It’s unintended, of course. However, if it makes you happy, he won’t mind. Your laugh is the music to his ears.
---
“Heh.. G-Genya…” you utter out as you try not to laugh at the state of his wild hair nearly covering his eyes.
“Ah shit..” he cursed at himself as he tried to fix the mop of hair, slightly irritated he didn’t tie it up.
“It’s… It’s okay, love.. Pfft, r-really..”
“But you’re laughing!”
“Because it’s adorable!”
“I’m not supposed to be adorable, damnit!”
A laugh erupted from your chest as you held your stomach. You truly didn’t mean it, but his flustered attempts to make himself all serious for your sake was a bit comical. Genya made a move to get up with a huff but you grabbed his arm and pulled him into your embrace with a giggle.
“I promise it’s okay. I love it when you’re like this. You don’t have to be perfect for me. I love you for you.”
A small blush rushed to his cheeks before he pouted in defeat and muttered “Thanks..”
H=Hair(are they well-groomed?)
Even before he met you, he always made it a rule to keep himself well kept and clean. He’s an overall clean person despite his condition to consume demons. Genya keeps himself trimmed and well-groomed, though there are times he completely shaved off all the hair.
On you; however, he could care less if you were as smooth as a baby’s bum or as hairy as a bush, it won’t keep his oral fixation down. He’ll eat you out till you crush his head and suffocate him. ‘A hell of a way to die’ as Sanemi put it.
I=Intimacy(how are they in the moment?)
Considering how touch-starved he was when you two started seeing each other, the ‘intimacy’ was nonexistent to him. Slowly, you introduced him to it through holding his fingers and gently massaging his scalp. He practically fell asleep the first time he laid in your lap as you messed with his hair.
When it comes to sex, it came naturally to him. Simply from watching you be gentle with him of all things. Pressing his forehead to yours. Holding your hand. Checking in to make sure you’re okay. Hell, running his hands along your body to massage the aches out of your muscles. He loves doing it. He needs to be as close to you as physically possible.
J=Jack-Off(do they masturbate often?)
Genya can be a bit prideful, but not overly prideful. He understands his body has needs. But it doesn’t mean he’ll masturbate every single time. This is a man trained to be in control and calm at all times.
He won’t get himself off unless it’s truly unbearable. And even then, he tries to restrain himself until he’s with you again. He’s almost always in danger, he’d rather take his chances waiting for you. He cherishes every moment he spends with you.
K=Kink
Overall, Genya isn’t too kinky. He likes to keep things simple. The kinks he does have are truly stimulating.
1) Breeding Kink - This one is pretty obvious considering he loves watching his cum leak out of you. The thought of you being full with his kids isn’t a common thought, but a very tempting one.
2) Biting/Marking Kink - Another obvious one, afterall he leaves hickies all over your thighs, shoulders, and neck. Simply put: if someone sees them, it simply means ‘fuck off, she’s taken’ to any potential single man.
3) Choking Kink - When I mean choking kink, I mean it very mildly. Sometimes, he simply likes to hold onto your throat while he fucks you. However, he makes it a point for you to tell him if he’s squeezing you too much. Which thankfully hasn’t happened. Like I said, this guy has a lot of control over his strength.
4) Slight Manhandling Kink - In simple terms, he likes to hold your hands above your head and even toss you a bit. But only if you’re comfortable with it. This one is very slight as it only happens when he really needs to get his energy, and even frustration, out. 
L=Location(where do they like to have sex?)
Genya prefers to keep your sex lives in the bedroom. It’s the most private you guys can get and he wants to keep it that way. And again, he has a lot of self-control. You, on the other hand, have tested his patience a couple times.
There was only one time he fucked you outside the comfort of your bedroom. You two had a couple of drinks, and you thought it would be a good idea to tease him. He proceeded to fuck you behind a tree. He won’t admit it out loud, but it was a little fun.
M=Motivation(what turns them on, gets them going?)
He doesn’t need too much motivation when it comes to you. Just say the word and he’ll have you on your back in seconds. Then again, Genya always makes it a point to ask you if you were sure. Your consent is all he needs.
N=NO(something they will not do)
Genya will absolutely never inflict any pain on you. Too many people in this world suffer in pain every day. When he wants to have sex with you, he wants both of you to feel good. Period.
Despite it happening once, Genya is still firm in his belief to keep your sex lives in the bedroom. No one else needs to see you two in such a vulnerable position.
O=Oral(giving or receiving?are they good at it?)
When I tell you this man has an oral fixation, it’s almost always like he’s dying of thirst. He is a natural giver. Want you to sit on his face 24/7. Half the time you guys get intimate, it consists mostly of Genya with his face between your legs. There is a reason he has a strong jaw and sense of taste. Sometimes he gets a little ahead of himself and overstimulates you. But you love it. It just requires a small break in between rounds sometimes.
When it comes to receiving oral from you; however, Genya turns into an absolute blushing, blubbering mess. Tries not to cum too quickly, but you don’t mind. In fact, you try to get him to release a few times from your hands and mouth before actualling fucking. It’s when you use your tongue that truly drives him insane. Like he’s fisting your hair and almost throat fucking you(poor baby always worries about hurting you tho).
---
Delicate fingers tug on Genya’s hair as his tongue laps up your folds, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. This was your third go around and the stimulation was starting to overwhelm your senses. He was always so insatiable when it came to tasting you. His grip on your hips and thighs were the only thing keeping you steady as you sat atop his face. You really wanted to treat him as well, but he refused to accept the praise until you’ve cum on his tongue at least four times. Truly vigorous this man.
“Genya….” You moaned and whimpered as your hips moved back and forth against his mouth.
“Fuck.. Fuck me, you taste amazing.” he mumbled on your folds
If this was heaven, he wanted to stay forever.
P=Pace(are they fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)
It really depends. Most of the time, he wants to take his time with you. Passionate and sensual is the definition of a perfect night for you two.
On days he’s feeling extra spicy, he won’t hesitate to fuck the shit out of you. He will hold your hips so hard there will be handprints on your skin later. I’m talking there will be accessories and decorations shattered on the floor. Clothes? Torn to shreds. Furniture? Will be broken and replaced
Side Note: He feels embarrassed afterward and worries if he hurt you, but you’re a giggling mess. So, you just hold onto him and tell him you like that side of him. He blushes and accepts the affection.
Q=Quickie
Pretty much nonexistent. Like I said, this man does not like having sex with you out in the open. The time behind the tree was a one time thing.
Aside from the obvious, he doesn’t just want to pull you into some closet like a dirty secret. He wants to caress you, hold you, and kiss you as if it’s his last night on earth.
R=Risk
Don’t need to reiterate. He will not risk anything that includes exposing or hurting either of you. You are the most important person in his life[aside from Sanemi] and that is all anyone needs to know. 
S=Stamina(how many rounds can they go?)
Remember how I mentioned he prefers to have you cum on his tongue at least four times before the main event?Yeah, that doesn’t even count. 
It’ll start out slow and sensual like usual, but he’s rubbing your clit half the time. He likes it when you two finish together. This can go for three rounds without breaks. 
He’ll clean you up with his tongue, but not to overstimulate you. He just really likes to eat you out. 
The last two to three rounds, he gets a bit excited and thrusts with more passion than before. He’ll cum before you do but he’ll keep going until you cum one more time. 
Overall, he can last about five to six rounds. Even on days he’s tired. He will not stop until you are satisfied.
T=Toys[modern headcanon]
Personally, I believe he would have a small collection of toys. A couple vibrators[for both you and himself], dildos[mainly for him ;)], and some handcuffs and rope. We all know he secretly likes it up the ass.
U=Unfair(do they tease you? do they like to be teased?)
Genya doesn’t necessarily like to tease you. He sees no point to it as he simply wants to please you, not torment you. 
As for himself, he doesn’t care for it. He won’t mind if you tease him a little bit, but he’s grateful you don’t. You will please each other till kingdom come. 
V=Volume(how loud are they during sex)
Genya isn’t too loud. He mainly grunts and groans in your ear. However, if you touch and scratch him in the right places, he’ll whimper fairly loudly. You can’t help but smirk a bit from it, but you never bring it up since it’ll embarrass him.
W=Wild Card
This is mostly circumstantial as it pertains to the type of demon he’s consumed. His demonic abilities fade away within hours; however, there were a few times the demons he ate affected his tongue.
Long story short, the demon had a forked tongue. Normally, that sort of thing wouldn’t affect him, but for some reason, this time it did. The morning Genya came back from his mission, he woke you up with a bit of a surprise. You were louder than usual as he tongued you. Having a forked tongue inside was a whole different experience. Apparently, Genya forgot all about it and was just going along with it out of habit.
X=X-Ray
Genya is a big guy. Bigger than his older brother[who denies it]. It’s safe to say he’s on the bigger spectrum overall.
He’s five and a half inches soft and almost seven inches when hard. He’s mostly long and a bit veiny. One vein runs along the underside of his dick, which is sensitive when you glide your tongue along it.
Y=Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive was nonexistent before he met you. After though? He wishes he could have you 24/7. But he doesn’t show it, he’s a gentleman after all. He must show he has self-control around you.
Z=Zzz(how fast do they fall asleep afterward?)
After making sure both of you have been taken care of, Genya almost always falls asleep right away. The sex plus all the fighting and training that comes with being a Demon Slayer takes a toll on his mind and body. So, the fact he can sleep in the arms of the person he loves is all he can ask for at the end of the day.
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The soft snores from your lover’s lips were music to your ears as you ran your fingers along his back up to his scalp. A smile spread across your face before closing your eyes and humming.
“I love you, Genya… More than you’ll ever know.”
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Hope you guys enjoyed!
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